[Titanic] Ticket

Lester and Carl put their heads together and chatted in a low voice. Little Alaska crawled all the way to the table with a crocheted tablecloth, attracted by the smell of smoked salmon and steak, and stood up staggeringly, whimpering softly While running towards Mrs. Bucket's plate - the lady looked terrified, she jumped up almost immediately screaming and kept chasing the pups away with her kerchief - and tried to kill the pup with a sharp silver Stabbing it with a fork: "God! Go away! Don't come here! Lovejoy, get him off!"

The little thing roared desperately, the voice was sharp and piercing, like someone scratching the glass vigorously, Karl frowned unhappily, and signaled the old housekeeper standing aside to bring the puppies that caused the disturbance to him: "Get him something to eat—milk, or oats, no meat, he's got a rather weak stomach."

Mrs. Bucket stared in horror at the puppy that was still barking at her—a dog she knew, a giant Alaskan in adulthood, compared to a woman who was no taller than five feet four inches. Almost frighteningly, she raised her voice and exclaimed in disgust, "I can't sit at the same table with it! Throw it out of the white cuckoo, it will hurt us!"

Lester stroked the puppy's coat and gently comforted its nervousness. Mrs. Bucket's words made him raise his eyebrows slightly. Swallowing nervously - she hoped at least for the sake of the afternoon they'd spent together - oh please, at least don't let her mother lose face in the streets of New York.

Catherine swallowed her last mouthful of borscht, pressed the corners of her mouth with a white silk scarf, took some cod sticks from the plate brought by the servant, and said slowly: "You don't have to be so embarrassing at all, Bucket Ma'am, after all—no one is obliged to invite you to dine with us. May, please ask Mrs. Rosta to prepare more food in the future, Mrs. Bucket seems to prefer to be alone."

"Okay, miss."

Mrs. Bucket's face was almost indescribably ugly, and she finished the meal in a state of uneasiness - completely forgetting all her rules and manners, Ruth and Jack thought there was nothing better, God knows. How could anyone want to dine with two Hockleys at the same table - it couldn't be more difficult, and they used six or seven spoons for a meal alone, which is really annoying.

……

"Solved a big problem, huh?"

Lester was slung boneless on Carl's back, his entire forehead bared in the shower, those wet blond hairs falling on his shoulders, the cold water dripping into Carl's silk pajamas, man Cursing in a low voice, he kicked him lightly on the knee, and pressed his whole body on the carpet: "Do you want to die with a headache tomorrow morning, boy? I have said it many times, when will you condescend to listen to it once?"

Lester hugged his knees and leaned on his lap, his light-colored eyelashes drooping densely. The young man picked the corners of his mouth lazily, feeling Carl's gentle and delicate movements on his head, dragging his voice slowly. Tun Tun said: "Maybe I was just looking forward to this moment, dear Mr. Hockley. You know, I have always been scheming."

"Don't light it, Lester," Carl responded dryly, turning sideways in embarrassment—but it probably didn't help, Lester was squeezed between his legs, and he couldn't have felt it.

What the hell, it's just a flirt, Carl Hockley, don't act like a little virgin, it's unbearable!

Lester held his hand, and covered his head with a soft white towel. The young man leaned closer to his crotch, and said with a hot breath, "Do you want me to help you? I thought we should have reached that point long ago .”

"Gosh - don't act like a slut."

Carl tried his best to restrain himself, but Lester's innocent and sweet expression half hidden in the shadows, he licked his lips - Carl noticed that they were not as thin and straight as he thought, which was the most suitable for spitting out bitter words, honestly It can be called plump and charming, the young man raised his lips, and the lip line was stained with soft water: "If you need it, it's not difficult."

……

Ruth and Jack walked briskly back to the room, and she had babbled several times on topics such as "Miss Hockley was so inadvertent" or "Mum's face really drove me crazy." Jack wasn't impatient at all, he was holding an empty basket in his hand - Catherine was leaving a cocker spaniel, and in view of Mrs. Bucket's resistance to the small animals, she graciously agreed to raise them together for the time being. the one.

"Hey, I'm here. I mean, thank you, Jack." Ruth stopped in front of a beautifully decorated wooden door, and she pretended to look at the delicate Victorian carvings on the wall-actually His eyes were almost looking forward with anxiety, and his side face was as red as a rose, "I should go in."

Jack leaned forward and kissed the corner of her lips: "Trust me, everything will be fine. I'll take you out of here—start making lists now, girl, we'll have a long time to complete them one by one. Don't It's annoying, it's the rest of our lives."

"No, never. I believe you." Ruth gave him a sweet kiss full of love, and then reluctantly opened the door and walked into the room.

Mrs. Bucket was sitting at her desk in a lace dressing gown and was writing something quickly—she seemed troubled by her words, stopping to think once or twice, and Ruth even noticed sharply that she was A heavy dictionary was placed at hand.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Ruth was in a good mood, and she and Mrs. Bucket hadn't had a good conversation for a while--for her endless platitudes, and honestly, if it hadn't been for something that happened today. Good thing, she's probably going to have a lukewarm relationship with Mrs. Bucket for a long time.

Mrs. Bucket had deserted her—Ruth could never let that go, after she had bowed to Hockley so many times, even for her own mother.

Mrs. Bucket stood up abruptly like a spring under her buttocks. Her movements were so great that she even swept the dictionary on the table to the floor, knocked over the ink bottle, and smeared a large piece of the letter paper. Mrs. Cotter stared and scolded fiercely: "What about your rules, Ruth! Why don't you knock on the door! Are you done dating your good lover? Let me tell you, he will never play, and never expect to marry you! "

Ruth smiled icily.

She felt that the heart that was still beating hot 10 minutes ago was gradually getting dusty, and the deep and cold exhaustion almost drowned her whole body.

She never felt that she was wrong, she was always only herself.

Ruth wrapped her arms around her shoulders—a posture of subconscious refusal and defense. She raised her chin fiercely like a proud Valkyrie, and announced loudly: "You are useless! Never expect Karl can marry me, Mrs Bucket!"

Mrs. Bucket yelled sharply, and would not stop even when Ruth slammed the door, and those ugly words like "working girl" and "we have nothing left but surnames" were like sharp arrows. As if mercilessly stabbed at the girl's heart, she finally fell down on a pile of soft velvet and feather cushions and wept loudly.

Mrs. Bucket outside the door finally got tired of cursing. She carefully held the letter paper on the table—a lot of places were stained, the woman tore it off with some annoyance, and spread out a new piece of paper to write on. Said: "Dear Mr. Hockley,

Sincerely hope you are all well.

Recently, Ruth and I have arrived at the White Rhododendron Manor, and everything here is satisfactory.Miss Catherine and Ruth had a great conversation - I've known for a long time that they would be boudoir confidants (she crossed out the word, presumably thinking that a slightly frivolous tone would arouse old Hockley's displeasure, and marked the decision Make changes after checking the dictionary)...

I think Carl and Ruth's wedding should have been brought forward - given their love for each other and their life and death together - I mean you must have known about the Titanic incident and sincerely hope that the dead have fallen into the mercy of God the Father embrace.Also, I'm afraid I have to tell you something about a shameless, obscene figure trying to lead Karl astray..."

……

Carl slept very well that night. When he woke up, it was still early. Lester lay quietly in his arms, with his right hand resting on his lower abdomen, his fingers warmed by the skin. It's a good dream.

Karl touched his lips - they didn't make it to the end, it was Karl's fault, and it certainly wasn't because he hadn't gotten used to from being straight straight to gay - even he felt that Simply fantastic, maybe he was born that way, but he wants to give Leicester a more official, better start.

Hell, how dare he not prepare for anything, he is always in the same place, and he will probably fuck Lester to death in this bed!

"It couldn't have been worse, I gotta say, it's pretty stupid," Carl murmured, scratching his tangled hair, dissatisfied.

"Such self-knowledge is rare, Mr. Hockley. Good morning."

Lester opened his eyes, with a gentle smile on his face, but his eyes were full of teasing, which made Carl flush with embarrassment, covered his lips aggressively, and bit hard a few times: "Don't laugh! Boy, if you laugh again, I will make you unable to get out of bed sooner or later!"

"Sounds like a terrible threat. Hey, don't be like chocolate, you're past the molar period." Lester pushed him away, his eyes were soft and calm, "I feel very happy, seriously. For you to stop Come down, for you have no other lover before me that deserves your attention."

Carl carefully kissed the young man's swollen lips, and muttered, "You know, I'm used to making exceptions for you—time and time again. And, what the hell is chocolate? That one Little Alaska? Oh, does it have to be called this sweet girly Haw?"

"Your sister likes it. And cream and cookies, which do you like?"

"...Chocolate, thank you."

The author has something to say:

Small theater [Man is not as good as a dog]

Chocolate: Master, I want to eat meat bark bark

Lester: give it

Chocolate: Master, the old lady is yelling at me

Leicester: fight

Chocolate: Master, I want to have sex with the Samoyed next door.

Leicester: fuck it

Carl: Daughter-in-law, I don’t like Jack, I want to beat him to death

Leicester: ... rolling