Imprisoned Crown of Thorns

Han Sen's case is really peculiar, and he needs to study it carefully.

Because in the past, when doing psychological counseling, basically all the parties involved in the incident must be present, and then both parties can openly communicate with each other's ideas, and professional psychological counselors will adjust and correct the ideas of both parties.

But this time, Nietzsche came here alone, and he was obviously unwilling to let Han Sen know that he was here.

Smith is not a person who doesn't know good and bad, so naturally he dare not order Nietzsche to go. In addition, he himself doesn't know much about Han Sen, so this makes Smith's work more difficult to a certain extent.

When Han Sen entered the door, Nietzsche was quietly lying on his back on the bed in the bedroom, taking a nap with his eyes closed, his hands folded in front of him, and his posture was graceful.

Han Sen walked slowly to Nietzsche's side, lowered his head and looked straight at Nietzsche. Nietzsche's demeanor during the break became unprecedentedly gentle, not like himself.

Han Sen bent down and sat down, raised his hand and gently stroked Nietzsche's cheek.

As if feeling Han Sen's touch, Nietzsche opened his eyes, yanked Han Sen's finger, put it in his mouth, licked Han Sen's fingertip with the tip of his tongue, raised his eyes and said, "Husband , want to make out?"

Han Sen just lowered his head, looked straight at Nietzsche, and shook his head:

"Lutheran, can you tell me why you want to be with me?"

"I want to speak from the bottom of my heart."

Nietzsche raised his eyebrows and smiled, raised his hand and pinched Han Sen's chin, shaking it left and right,

"Why else, I... can't live without your body."

After finishing speaking, Nietzsche sat up straight and pinched Han Sen's chin with one hand, put his mouth on it, and kissed Han Sen, humming softly while kissing again and again.

"Well……"

Nietzsche gasped, feeling that he couldn't take it anymore, put his arms around Han Sen's neck, lowered his head and kept kissing Han Sen's cheek and collarbone, and then yanked off Han Sen's collar, tearing off several button, the bright red lips are wet, and the expression is also wet.

Nietzsche put his lips against Han Sen's neck and chest and sucked hard and quickly.

"Han Sen... You haven't felt that feeling for a long time... I want you, Han Sen..."

Han Sen sat still and didn't speak. Nietzsche put his arms around Han Sen tightly, as if wishing Han Sen could put him on the bed now.

Dirty thoughts once again appeared in Nietzsche's mind.

Han Sen didn't know what he was thinking, and let Nietzsche molested him blankly.

"Well……"

I don't know when Nietzsche opened his mouth suddenly to put the spot on Han Sen's chest in his mouth. Han Sen frowned in annoyance, avoided Nietzsche's sucking, stood up, and took his own The clothes are arranged, and there is no expression on his face, making it hard to see what kind of face is underneath his expression.

Nietzsche licked his lips, his eyes fell on Han Sen's tall and straight back, he quickly curled his hair that fell on his shoulders, and said with a smile, "Sen, don't you like it?"

Han Sen looked at his clothes in the mirror. The buttons had been torn off and couldn't be fastened at all. The collar was loosely open, revealing Han Sen's slender neck and the reddish hickey on it.

"I'm not a woman. How could I like it?"

Hearing what Han Sen said, Nietzsche suddenly suppressed the smile on his face, and looked at Han Sen with a gloomy expression. Han Sen was still looking in the mirror and didn't look at him, as if he didn't care.

Nietzsche snorted coldly, then turned his head to look at the garden outside the window. The flowers in the garden were blooming beautifully. Han Xiu was still sitting quietly in front of the easel, looking very serious.

Like Han Sen, Han Xiu's patience is surprisingly good.

The butler quietly waited by Han Xiu's side, watching Han Xiu paint.

But when he saw the flowers in the garden blooming against the sun, Nietzsche felt indescribably disgusted, and frowned in annoyance.

Flowers, those colorful things that smell strange, are the most disgusting things in the world.

Han Sen raised his slender fingers and stroked the hickey on his neck silently, his eyes lingering on Nietzsche's face in the mirror.

Looking at the flowers in the garden, the man seemed to be frowning in annoyance. When he didn't make any expression, his perfect jade profile looked cold.

Han Sen looked at Nietzsche who was sitting on the bed, closed his eyes, and pulled his lips silently, with an inexplicable smile on the corner of his mouth.

"Get up and get dressed, and come down to lunch with me."

Han Sen said in a deep voice, because there was no ups and downs in his voice, Nietzsche sounded very ruthless, and it seemed that Nietzsche hadn't become so tender because Nietzsche was safely by his side now.

Nietzsche felt that Han Sen was like a programmed robot, except for the most severe moment of friction, other moments could not change him.

Because of being suppressed for a long time, the bottom of my heart was clamoring for almost gushing anger and manic tyranny. I don’t know why—probably because of Han Sen—Nietzsche suppressed this feeling in his heart. Brushing her hair, lying on the bed lightly, turned over, "I don't want to eat, I want to sleep."

Han Sen went to Nietzsche's bed and sat down. He reached out and stroked Nietzsche's cheek. When he smelled Han Sen's fingertips, Nietzsche trembled all over, and the familiar smell spread through his body.

"Uncle, be obedient, go have lunch with me, and we can rest together after lunch."

Hearing what Han Sen said, Nietzsche sat up suddenly, and Han Sen also stood up following Nietzsche's movement, turning around to go out first.

Nietzsche quickly got out of bed and hugged Han Sen from behind:

"Sen, didn't you just feel unwell?"

"Why are you asking these questions?"

Han Sen looked down at Nietzsche's slightly pale fingertips.

Nietzsche raised his head, covered Han Sen's earlobe, and whispered in his ear:

"Every time you do this, I feel so comfortable..."

Han Sen had no expression on his face, but said coldly:

"As long as you can get pleasure, you will probably do it."

Nietzsche quickly stood in front of Han Sen, stared at Han Sen silently, and then said word by word: "Han Sen, you have a mental problem."

Hearing that the man with the most serious mental problems in the world told him that he had mental problems, Han Sen nodded silently, "You're right."

"I do have a mental problem."

After finishing speaking, Han Sen took Nietzsche's hand and walked towards the hall downstairs.

"Dad, Mom!"

Seeing Han Sen and Nietzsche coming down the stairs together, Han Xiuxiu, who was brought in by the butler, sat at the dining table and waited for them. The lunch had already been served, and he was waiting for the two parents.

"Mr. Han, Mr. Nietzsche, young master, please have dinner."

The servants set the tableware one by one, indicating that the three of them could have lunch.

Han Xiu looked at Nietzsche and blinked,

"Mom, I want to sit with you."

Nietzsche smiled at Han Xiu, raised his hand and touched Han Xiu's head, "Come here."

Han Xiu immediately sat beside Nietzsche. Nietzsche picked up the cutlery and had lunch with Han Xiu. The TV in the hall was broadcasting the news. Han Xiu was taken down by the housekeeper to rest after finishing his meal.

From the beginning to the end, Han Sen ate lunch without saying a word. Nietzsche gave Han Sen a hard look and kicked Han Sen's knee.

"Ludland, eat well, you are already middle-aged, you don't need me to teach you this kind of thing."

Han Sen looked at Nietzsche and smiled silently.

"I rested by myself, don't come to me for a while."

Nietzsche said annoyedly, and forcefully put down the tableware in his hand, then stood up and walked upstairs.

Han Sen silently put down the tableware in his hand,

"Ludland."

Nietzsche paused, turned to look at Han Sen,

"what do you want to say."

Han Sen turned his face sideways, propped his chin with one hand, and said seriously:

"Ludland, I think we should sleep separately for the time being."

"I personally think you need to reflect on your own thoughts and values."

Nietzsche looked at Han Sen in disbelief, and said coldly:

"I think my values ​​are so good that I don't need any reflection."

Although Nietzsche is really unhappy now, what he said is true. He has always felt that he is the most outstanding and normal person in the world.

Han Sen stood up as if nothing had happened.

"Lutheran, you are refusing to progress. Reflection can help you grow."

"I don't need to grow up because I'm old enough!"

It seems that because the topic of age was involved, Nietzsche gave Han Sen a hard look, "Han, you are still a man, do you hate that I used so much of your semen before, so now I won't give it to me if I die?" ?”

Han Sen didn't seem to be angry either. He walked slowly to Nietzsche's side, lowered his head, and kissed Nietzsche's cheek with a gentle expression, "People can only be better when they avoid being conquered by desires." Reflect on your own words and deeds, uncle, you must cherish this opportunity I gave you."

"Slap!", Nietzsche waved his hand and slapped Han Sen hard, then turned and went upstairs, then entered a bedroom, stood in the bedroom, and slammed the door hard.

Hearing the sound of Nietzsche slamming the door, all the servants left in the hall trembled violently.

The butler stood in the hall in a cold sweat, thinking silently—God, our hard days are coming again.

Obviously, Lutheran was angry!

Subconsciously recalled the time when Lutheran was locked up here by Han Sen a few years ago, that man with a temper that could not be looked at directly, the whole family surrounded him and carefully served his ancestors who could not be appeased smoothly , the housekeeper who stood by with a blank face silently shed two lines of painful tears from the bottom of his heart.

Nietzsche sat by the bed, the lights in the room were not turned on, and the curtains were drawn down. The room was dark and without light. Nietzsche was like a devil exuding a cold breath, silent in the darkness.

His slender fingers tightly held the bed sheet under him. Nietzsche was waiting for Han Sen to comfort him, just like before, but he didn't want Han Sen to come, because he would lose control and go crazy.

Han Sen changed.

Nietzsche now fully understands.

Han Sen is no longer like that, handsome and simple, his city has become very deep, unfathomable, so complicated that he can't understand it.

Apart from knowing that Han Sen hated him and everything he had done to him, Nietzsche didn't know what other feelings Han Sen had towards him.

But... Nietzsche didn't care at all.

Because he never considered any emotional issues.

Being hugged by Han Sen will bring great happiness, and Nietzsche only cares about such intuitive feelings.

"Mongrel!"

Nietzsche stood up angrily.

Soon, there was the sound of things being thrown in the upstairs room, and the sound of broken glass products one after another.

Thinking of the expensive glazed artwork in the room, the butler couldn't control himself anymore, his originally clear eyes became blurred, and tears were about to fall from his eyes.

Although his master Mr. Han doesn't care about the money, the housekeeper knows that because of Lutheran's bad personality, he deliberately doesn't put some small and expensive artworks in the house, just to prevent those artworks from being stolen by the ancestor upstairs. It fell.

Later, Lutheran obviously got better, and he was not so divided. He recently started to arrange to place valuable artworks in each room, and also arranged special servants to maintain them carefully, but still Within a week of placing them, Lutheran casually dropped a batch of them.

"Mr. Han...you are still..."

The butler reminded Han Sen cautiously, suggesting that Han Sen go to comfort Nietzsche.

Han Sen turned and turned off the TV, and said in a deep voice:

"I'll go out for a while. Lutheran's dinner should be light. Don't let him eat too spicy food."

What Han Sen meant was that as long as Nietzsche liked it, he could throw things like crazy.

The housekeeper nodded, "Okay, Mr. Han."

Standing disheveled in the center of the room, with broken artworks on the soles of his feet and around him, Nietzsche stretched out his hand to straighten his somewhat messy hair annoyed. He didn't expect that Nietzsche Lutheran would try to figure out a younger than himself today. The minds of teenagers, and they still can't figure it out.

Nietzsche knelt on the ground slowly, clutching his heart, a burning pain hit him.

Han Sen, I deserve what I did to you all those years ago, so that I can't leave you so much now, and I'm in a cocoon.

The burning pain in his heart became more and more serious, Nietzsche quietly bit his lip, and his upper teeth ruthlessly bit his lip until the bite was bright red.

Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and Nietzsche began to hate himself.

Tired of tossing and tossing himself, Nietzsche got up and walked to the bed in the bedroom, then turned sideways and lay down on the bed.

He closed his eyes, opened them again after a while, adjusted his posture and leaned his back against the bed, Nietzsche picked up the landline beside the bed and held it in his arms, and dialed Smith's number .

"Han Sen and I separated."

Nietzsche said coldly.

For the first time in his life, Smith had doubts about his professionalism, and no client had ever been worse off following his advice.

Smith squeezed his temples angrily, "What's the matter, did you do something you shouldn't do to Mr. Han?"

Nietzsche shook his head:

"Although I have the mentality of simply raping him, I personally feel that the possibility of me raping him in terms of strength and physical strength is zero."

"Actually, it's not that there is no... um!"

Realizing what he had just said, Smith covered his mouth abruptly.

Nietzsche frowned:

"No, I really plan to spend my whole life with him. If I do something excessive, Han Sen will definitely hate me even more."

"Then what do you think is going on?"

Smith was confused. Han Sen was much more complicated than he imagined. Although Smith knew that Han Sen was not simple, it seemed that Han Sen had successfully surpassed the adjective "not simple".

Nietzsche curled his hair with his fingertips, and said firmly:

"Han Sen may not love me at all."

Smith's face was dark, thinking that he was spoiled like that by you when he was young, why should he love you.

"I personally think that you can openly and honestly communicate with Mr. Han what he thinks now."

Nietzsche shook his head, licked the blood stains on his lips, and didn't feel pain for his bleeding.

"Impossible, Han Sen thinks I'm superficial, and he thinks that all I think about is tricking him into bed."

"Then what's going on in your head?"

"Yes." Nietzsche readily admitted.

Smith: "..."

Smith held his forehead with a headache,

"I think you should calm down now. It's better to wait and see what happens and see what Mr. Han means. Maybe Mr. Han has his own ideas."

Nietzsche nodded.

"I basically can't think of Han Sen's thoughts now. I think I'm old and I can't see through Han Sen's mind."

"Mr. Nietzsche, no one can see through some people's thoughts."

"Yes, what you said makes a lot of sense."

Nietzsche felt that what Smith said was very reasonable. In some respects, he was a more pragmatic person and didn't like to dig into corners. Since he couldn't understand Han Sen's mind, then maybe no one else could understand Han Sen.

Thinking of this, Nietzsche felt that everything was fair. If others didn't understand and he didn't understand, then no one knew Han Sen better than himself.

Nietzsche felt completely relieved.

Because since everyone can't understand Han Sen, the one closest to him is the one who will always sleep with Han Sen.

Whether it's in bed or in life, the position next to Han Sen must be his own - this is the firm cognition of Lutheran who was just proposed by Han Sen to sleep separately.