prince and his shield

"Yesterday, that girl was pretty." Royston sat at the dining table, picked up a piece of fried egg, shook it, and said.

"Miss Ged?"

"Well, Jedd, the name is not bad." Royston put his finger on his lips and coughed.

He couldn't really eat anything.But, you can't eat it.

"Yes—" Steve watered the pothos and agreed.

Thinking of last night, he hesitated holding the watering can: "Do you like her?"

"No, I don't like her. I don't like her at all, not at all." Royston seized the opportunity to express his opinion hastily, and swallowed dry food with difficulty.

"Okay..." Then why mention this suddenly?

Steve was a little puzzled, didn't think much, turned his head, and continued to water the pothos.

Royston poked the plate with a fork, looking at the leisurely man out of the corner of his eye.

Was caught peeking, met a pair of curious blue eyes, and Royston, who rarely looked directly at him, turned his head instantly, almost twisting his neck.

He grabbed the cup next to him in a disguised manner, and took a sip, his face instantly had the same color as Luluo.

"I want Coke!" Royston vomited out.

"It's sweetened milk." Steve rubbed every leaf of the pothos until it turned green, and carried it to the window, which was extraordinarily energetic.

This green radish is really tenacious.

"It's even more disgusting!" Royston pushed away the cup and went to find the Coke in the refrigerator.New Bayi first launch

It didn't come out.

"Where's my Coke?" Royston leaned on the refrigerator door and looked at Steve.

"Where did you put them?" Steve didn't look back.

Royston raised his eyebrows, slammed the refrigerator door, propped it up with one hand, and squinted: "I just drank it not long ago, just before you entered the door."

Steve turned around: "It's not good to drink too much Coke."

Royston stared at him.

"..." Steve brought him a Coke from the cupboard.

Still have to take it slow, step by step.

Royston snatched it and turned over the cupboard above his head.Just one bottle.

"For Satan's sake—" He turned to look at Steve, "You can't believe it."

Fill the devil with sweet milk, what do people do? ?

Steve raised his hand over his head to sort out the overturned things inside: "Coke has a high sugar content. You are a model, and diet management is the foundation."

"Also, don't keep talking about Satan. It's not very good." Steve looked down at him, closed the top cabinet door, and frowned.

I scolded God yesterday.

Royston faced his pecs, face twitching.He took half a step back, distanced himself, and stopped looking at his face.Also swallowed the useless effort to ask myself where to put the rest of the Coke.

Walking away, his mouth moved, as if silently chanting some curse spell.

Steve watched him look around the kitchen and smiled.

He went to the table and put the dishes away in the sink.Bowen lives in a very convenient environment, but everything related to life is brand new, and he doesn't seem to want to get to know it in depth.

As soon as he left, the place could almost sell as a new home.Steve paused for a moment with the hand that pressed the sink switch, glanced at Royston, and looked away.

Probably just a personal habit.

Not the same as Roy.He has the ability to turn all places into his stronghold. He is obviously not very conspicuous, but he has a strong sense of presence.

Blog posts seem to be reversed.

Bloodlines are amazing.Steve remembered something, a smile on his lips.

Royston caught a glimpse of his smile and frowned, inexplicably upset.

Shouting, what are you doing?It's amazing to have someone you like.

This man is in the wrong mental state!It feels harder than ever.This is a leave of absence for a meeting, and came back after recharging? ?

The kid couldn't do it, and the person involved was still being silly and happy, Royston's head was enlarged, and he was vaguely suffocated.

Most of the coke was poured with an air of drinking vodka. Royston stared at his movements and realized later: "Wait a minute, why are you doing this at my house? You are my driver."

"It's still a bodyguard." Steve added, "After discussing with Miss Rose last night, I am also your life assistant."

"Take three wages?"

Steve nods.

Royston's face twitched: "Take my money and still control me? What are you? Satan?"

"I have to be worthy of the salary Miss Rose gives."

"I'm your boss!" Royston squeezed the bottle.

"Yes." Steve smiled at him, with an indescribable meaning in his smile, "and my job is to take care of you."

"..." Royston looked at his smiling face and couldn't hold back a word for a while.

Look away.

He put what little cold Coke was left on his forehead, and walked out: "Satan on me—it's unbelievable."

Steve was amused by his soliloquy, and after a laugh, he felt bad again, and suppressed his voice: "Satan is not very good."

"Do you care what I believe in?!" Royston roared impotently.

Steve coughed dryly and smiled.

No matter how Royston looked at him, he looked flattered, but when he looked at himself, he looked like a lonely cabbage.

There is no energy anywhere.

Throwing the bottle away, he asked, "So, Zed is your girlfriend?"

"No. I just dropped her off." Steve wondered, "Why do you think so?"

"Didn't you ask for leave for a date?" Royston got excited and sat up straight.

"Well, indeed."

"It's not Jedd?" He lazily looked back, "You're having fun."

"Huh?" Steve wondered.

Royston looked at him like a fool: "A man and a woman. At night. Go to the bar. What do you expect me to do?"

Steve mused: "Indeed..."

"If I were the one you like, you would kill me." Royston was speechless.

"So, who the hell did you go out with?" Royston looked at him.

Steve paused, looking back at his face.

"What are you looking at?" Royston touched his face.

"No," Steve shook his head, looking away, "I'm going to see... a very important person."

Royston had a half-smile: "Like her?"

"..." Steve acquiesced, didn't say much, and smiled with his lips pursed.

The corners of Royston's lips flattened slowly, becoming more and more unhappy.He raised Erlang's legs, looked at the person trembling, and didn't know what he was thinking.

Steve looked at his feet: "Do you... have someone you like?"

"No." Resolutely, Royston got up and walked away.

Slumped shoulders, slumped back, slouching, no vitality left.

Steve instinctively felt that he might have poked the sore spot of the young man, and was a little at a loss.

The villa is very big, and I still can't hide it no matter how I go around.

Royston got into the toilet, looked up at the mirror where he had been crushed to pieces, and saw the red flowing heavily in his eyes that were broken into pieces, and closed his eyes.

Tsk, the face looks too similar.Also like others.

He took a deep breath, lowered his head and washed his face, and walked out, again a good man.

It was quiet for a long time, and there was a person on the side who kept making small and small sounds.Royston was basking in the sun on the balcony, feeling like he was almost the same in his later years, drowsy.

"Call me Roy." He said abruptly.

Steve froze.

Seeing that this face will appear in front of him more and more frequently.Isn't there some kind of, um, desensitization therapy?

Just like that.If there is too much contact, if the blunt knife is sharpened too much, it will become numb.

Steve declined: "No need. The blog post is fine."

Royston ran away from sleepiness, got up and went upstairs: "It's up to you. I'll take a nap."

He entered the room, rubbed his temples, his head hurt.

Steve stood downstairs, rubbing his nose.

After knowing it, I realized that my refusal might not be friendly, but...it is not easy to explain this problem directly.