[Titanic] Ticket

When Carl and Lester returned to the room, Mrs. Ruth Bukett looked very bad - they all knew why, but no one was very willing to talk to this prostitute to maintain a luxurious life - in a tone — Lady Noble.

"Carl, we need to have a good talk." Mrs. Bucket pressed the corners of her lips with a handkerchief—Lester guessed that she had just drank a cup of top-quality Ceylon black tea, and the air was full of that strong fragrance. And Mary was rolling her eyes hard behind the couch she was sitting on.

Lester shrugged. Seriously, he has always been a man of sense, and Mrs. Bucket doesn't need to look at him with that kind of—oh, how should I put it, like a male whore who is trying to seduce her son-in-law. , although he is indeed likely to go all the way to the dark on this road.

"No, stay here." Carl grabbed Lester's hand and pressed him on the sofa. After losing interest in Ruth Bukett, he obviously couldn't show excellent patience and good temper. Come and speak to Mrs. Bucket.

Mrs. Bucket sighed veiledly, her moss-green eyes looking gently at Carl—like her disobedient boy: "Carl, I mean—alone—"

Karl curled his lips into a mean arc, gestured to Mary, and then said in an annoying aristocratic drawl: "I'm with Lester—or don't talk, ma'am, we all Understand what your daughter has done."

"You can't slap, Carl, you are obviously not very loyal." Mrs. Bucket was trembling with anger, and she couldn't even hold the cup in her hand-there was no tea in it, and Mary obviously refused to give any more. She adds some.

To be honest, Lester actually admired this woman.

Rarely shrewd, rarely ruthless.

She can put her beautiful daughter up for sale without shaking hands, and Lester bets that if Karl hadn't appeared early-maybe Ruth is already a famous courtesan in the aristocratic circle by now-if the strong girl And again and again she softened her heart for her mother.

She can also watch her daughter and son-in-law drown in the depths of the North Atlantic without blinking an eye. Maybe they can be saved, but sometimes things are unpredictable. The two knew each other well, but she chose to save her own life - she was a living female version of Cronus - and those actions seemed outrageous at any time.

Carl squeezed Lester's hand, which was his new little habit. He really loved these little gestures, and raised his eyebrows and said lazily: "So? I have this power, Ruth-maybe It is more appropriate to call you Mrs. Bucket these days. I spent a lot of money-I thought I could buy an obedient and beautiful wife, but who knew I bought a white-eyed wolf? Oh, and you, a I'm taking it as a bonus for the Infinity Money Printing Machine, huh?"

Lester withdrew his hand and reminded vaguely: "Carl, you don't want to call Dr. York at this time—for Mrs. Bucket's heart attack that you are about to piss off."

"Forgive me." Carl apologized casually. "Mrs. Bucket, have mercy, and tell me the point? I'm a little sleepy, and you should be busy getting Ruth back and getting ready for the party right now." Banquet tonight."

Mrs. Bucket pressed her chest and gave Lester a savage look—the young man could put his feet up and swear he was innocent, God, shouldn't she blame this rich man who speaks evil?

"Carl, I think--I mean--you just need more time, and Ruth won't let you down. If you really like Mr. Rowland, I don't think she'll mind if you get married —to have a mistress, who is a good, decent girl, who is always considerate."

Mrs. Bucket, as if making some great sacrifice, said with a pale face that she avoided looking at Leicester—not even a glance, as if such a handsome young man was nothing to her. Pile of bills - maybe trash or another Margaret Brown?

Mary brought the tea, and Lester took her own hot cocoa from her—this was the only thing the girl was willing to serve her little darling since Carl declared Mr. Roland a sickly beauty—really Desperate.

The young man curled up on the sofa drinking hot cocoa with an indifferent expression on his face. Carl looked at him eagerly, so he lifted his eyelids from the heat: "She is right, this is the most common way. I can do it A lot of things, but can't make a baby for you, and of course, I think maybe Miss Ruth can't either."

Ruth Bukett was furious at these words, but she couldn't help it. She looked at Carl almost pleadingly: "Mr. Roland is right, Carl, you need a child."

"No." Carl put down his teacup coldly, his light brown eyes were full of anger, and it was obvious that he hated this topic.

For the sake of fucking Bucket, he hasn't got Lester yet, and this greedy woman is about to come and beat a mandarin duck?

Lester was a formidable character, and the young man might not have been willing to befriend him if it hadn't been for the Titanic.

Gentleness and elegance are just a trick he uses to deceive the world, Karl can see clearly that he has smashed his bones and branded him with pride and even arrogance.

Carl also sometimes wondered if his boy would simply abandon him if he got off the boat because he was tired of dealing with all the trivialities.

God knows, a Hockley never bothered about love.

If it did start, Dr. York could presumably give him a life-long critical illness notice—for that damned "Leicester need" that got worse every day.

"If I really need a baby, I'll just accept Lester and mine." Lester rolled his eyes—Carl squeezed his wrist carefully, "but it doesn't really matter, the Hockleys have many Children—I can pick the best of them—much more capricious than genes than the weather.”

Mrs. Bucket had nothing to say, and she even began to tremble, but no one present could sympathize with her rare panic and weakness.

Who knows what she is afraid of——

Maybe it was the overwhelming bill after getting off the boat.

Maybe it was the weavers' cheap wire bed that fell from the high feather mattress.

She is destined to bear these, and good and evil will be rewarded in the end.

……

"Lester, don't you mind? I don't need that damn kid at all. I can't give him love." Carl rubbed his hair. On the forehead, Lester even found them a little curly, making Carl look years younger.

Lester parted his hair for him, and said with a smile: "Do you really think I care about that? Come on, Carl, she's just a woman who deals with jewelry and dresses all day long, what can she understand? If I want you, it's Jehovah It doesn't help to come in person."

The young man was standing in front of the Victorian-style wall smiling, the sun was streaming down from his forehead, his eyes were peaceful and powerful, like a sharp iron claw piercing into Carl's heart - he controlled its heart Beats—if he said leave, it would die in an instant.

"If there is a god in this world..." Carl murmured softly, walking towards him uncontrollably, "Don't you want to get me?"

Lester lowered his eyes and gave him a warmer kiss than that in the gentle sunlight: "Speak from the heart, I think about it all the time, Mr. Hockley."

They deepened the kiss logically, the sound of viscous water rippling gently in the air, no one can tell who went crazy first, they pushed each other and rolled onto the sofa, almost in this narrow place a shot.

When Carl took off Leicester's pants, he left without saying goodbye and finally bought a return ticket and gave him a punch. The young man pushed Carl away forcefully-he couldn't help it, the idiot probably thought he was a piece of shit Chewing gum, do you have to tear it?

"Gosh, does it have to be now?" Carl muttered petulantly.

"It has to be at this time, and God agrees." Lester rolled his eyes and wiped off the water stains on his lips with his fingers, "We have to solve something."

Carl held him down, deliberately preventing him from getting up, and said lazily, "For example?"

"Heart of the Ocean. Sweetie, please turn over, you're as fucking heavy as a Siberian brown bear!"

Carl finally got up and half-leaned on the sofa. The boy was dressing with his back facing him. The exquisitely embroidered white shirt covered his green waistline and beautiful butterfly bones little by little—compared to those stiff Leicester is obviously more suitable for shirts that can turn people into tombstones every minute. When he returns to the United States, he can prepare a wardrobe for the boy.

"Baby, you are so beautiful." Carl hugged him from behind, zipped up his pants, and sighed with admiration.

Lester gave him a merciless elbow: "Thank you Carl Sagittarius thicker than a wall Mr Hockley for telling Mr Lester Rowland that he was not for nothing. Do me a favor and let your poor Going out on the deck, little one, to see what's going on? I don't want to be wasting time in this room with you at all."

Carl gritted his teeth and smiled: "Of course, will you accompany me? Astor is a scum, but there is no denying that he is really rich."

Lester thought for a while, then shook his head and refused: "No, I don't want to be relatively silent with Mrs. Madeleine. Carl, you know—"

"Of course. Keep your pride, boy, I will never let it out of your life." Carl solemnly kissed Lester's forehead, then took out the heart of the ocean from the safe and walked out of the room .

Lester touched the small piece of hot skin and smiled softly.

There were some small laughter from outside the door.

"Draw me a picture, Jack. Right here, okay?"

"It is my pleasure, my dear girl."

Lester's face suddenly became gloomy, his clenched fist trembled uncontrollably, and his fingernails were deeply embedded in his palm.

He remembered that everything would happen tonight.