prince and his shield

For the rest of the day, neither Olos nor Royston showed up.Steve lingered in the ward for another half a month, and finally returned to his apartment with all the money.

There is a sense of gratitude for being released from prison on parole.

Standing at the door and flipping through his keys, the door next door suddenly opened, and the female neighbor looked at him poking her head, with two strange blushes on her cheeks.

"?" Steve looked at him suspiciously.

The female neighbor seemed to want to say something, but held back abruptly.

She beckons.

Steve glanced at his door, then turned his head and walked over: "What's the matter?"

"..." The female neighbor looked at his face and seemed to be struggling.

"What happened?" Steve squinted, almost thinking someone was holding a knife to her back behind the door.

"...This is the package you arrived in the past few days, and I signed for it for you." The female neighbor's eyes were a little red, and she piled up the things in her hand.

Steve was terrified, and when he saw the intact packaging, he felt that he was judging the belly of a gentleman with the heart of a villain.

"...Thank you." Steve tried his best to hold his face, and coughed lightly, "Thank you very much."

He turned to leave, and looked back at the female neighbor when he opened the door.

She was standing by the door, and there seemed to be something deeper hidden in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Steve wondered, clutching the key.

"No, no, no, no problem at all." The female neighbor pushed her hand, "Open the door—open the door."

After finishing speaking, she also showed a very weird smile.

Steve frowned, but couldn't help but hold the corner of his lips, wondering if she knew what he had bought.

"Open the door—" The female neighbor was a little anxious.

Steve snorted, "OK."

He laughed twice, turned the key, and opened the door.

"boom--"

Something bounced towards him, he dodged reflexively, his eyes swept over sharply, and then his expression got out of control.

"Roy—?" He cried out in shock.

Royston stood in the hallway, holding a champagne bottle in his hand, and smiled: "Welcome home—"

Responding, Steve slammed the door hard, blocking the neighbors next door.

The female neighbor, who had been excited all morning, looked at the tightly closed door with a weepy expression on her face.Then he cheered up quickly, his eyes emitted an abnormal light, and he laughed.

Then he tiptoed quietly to the door of the room, putting his ears together.

Fully hearing the neighbor next door leaning against his door, Steve pursed his lips: "...why...why are you here?"

Royston raised his hand and sucked the foam from his fingers into his mouth: "Well - I kindly asked the beautiful lady next door for a spare key."

"Well, surprise~" He suddenly thought of something, and added with bright eyes.

"..." Steve covered his forehead, "Well... why do you know..."

After speaking, he realized that he was stupid.Rose must have her own address there.

"You..." Steve felt a little helpless when he heard the other heart that was beating faster than his own across the door.

He looked at Royston wearing a three-cornered hat, at the half-eaten cake on the coffee table, and at the champagne being poured by Bowen.

Aside from being funny, there was a subtle, ironic emotion.

"You're here to celebrate my discharge from the hospital." Steve stopped paying attention to the neighbors at the door, put down the bag on his back, and smiled.

"Yes." Royston hiccupped and covered his mouth embarrassingly.

Steve laughed: "Then why did you open the champagne yourself when the protagonist didn't come back? Besides, can champagne be used to celebrate the recovery of the sick?"

"I even ate most of the cake myself."

He walked over, and then saw two empty bottles of wine under the sofa, and paused.

"……This is……"

Royston walked over with a slender bottle of champagne in his hand: "I've waited too long, and I'm a little bored."

Steve looked up: "Miss Rose said you can't drink too much."

"I don't drink much." Royston sat down on the sofa, kicked the bottle next to his feet, and counted, "It's just... 1, 2—"

Steve took a deep breath and quickly snatched the wine from his hand: "I can't drink any more."

Royston shrugged, not intending to continue drinking.He casually snatched the wine bottle from his hand.

Steve looked at the man reeking of alcohol with helplessness in his eyes.

"Are you here to celebrate my discharge from the hospital, or did you just come out to play on a whim?" Steve said angrily.

"I see." Royston narrowed his eyes.

"What did you see?"

Royston pointed at him.

Steve looked down at himself: "Yes, yes, you saw me."

Royston shook his head violently, pointing persistently.

Steve looked out along his fingertips and saw a thick stack of magazines on a shelf by his entryway.He froze, then pursed his lips and scratched behind his ear.

Looking back, he saw Royston's little smug expression.

"Yes, yes, you found out." Steve stuffed the box in his hand under the coffee table, not daring to open it, "I'm your big fan. Aren't you afraid?"

Learn from him.

Royston hummed and stretched out his hand to pull him to sit down.

Steve sat next to him and let the drunk childish ghost hang on his shoulders, and put his mouth full of alcohol close to his ear: "I know you won't like me."

Steve ducked: "Oh?"

"I know." Royston patted him on the shoulder appreciatively, "You are very good."

Steve pulled him away slightly: "Yeah—I'm fine."

He reached across the cake, feeling somehow relaxed and comfortable.

Flipping through the broken cake box next to it, I found a plate, a fork and a cake cutting knife.

He doesn't like sweets very much, but now he wants to try it unexpectedly.

Royston put his hands on his shoulders and rested his head on his neck, quietly watching his movements.

Steve lets him lean on.

He actually still has a lot of questions to ask, but obviously this state is not a good time.

He cut a piece of cake and put it on a small plate, took a fork to fork it, brought it to his mouth, and was swallowed whole by the mouth that came over suddenly.

Steve with all his forks bitten off...

Turning his head to look at the man chewing and chewing with puffed cheeks, Steve laughed.

"Does the one I cut taste better?"

Royston touched his burning throat, nodded, and gave a thumbs up: "It's great!"

Steve raised his eyebrows, and suddenly felt that the timing might be great: "When I woke up, I heard that you were unharmed because you were in the bathroom when the accident happened."

Royston pursed his lips, and reached out to drag the small plate: "Rose said."

Steve froze for a moment: "So you weren't in the bathroom at the time."

"Yes." Royston wiped a little cream with his fingers and put it into his mouth.

Steve didn't have time to grab his hand and watched him lick his fingers clean.A pink tongue wrapped around the same pink fingertips, and when he dragged his hand away, the tongue chased out enough.

Steve's hands froze, and he threw away his wrists as if they were burning.

Royston's shoulders cocked and he stumbled, and Steve put one hand on his shoulders.

He stares at Steve with accusing eyes.

Steve... "...it's unhygienic to eat like this."

Royston raised his eyebrows and looked at him strangely.

Steve... "Don't lick."

After speaking, his ears felt hot.

Damn, why do I always feel like I said something bad.

He wanted to put some distance away, but Royston pressed his shoulders with surprising force.

Steve moved a little, his eyes widening as he pressed down.

Steve moved again, and he pressed down, staring.

move, stare.

move, stare.

Steve laughed suddenly: "ohgod..."

Royston was kind of fun when he was drunk.There is also a shadow that I am very familiar with.

Royston showed a disgusted expression, and spread a handful of cream on his mouth: "God is not a good thing."

Steve was covered with cream, closed his eyes, and shouted in a low voice: "Bowen——"

Royston was mysterious: "Although God is as bad as Satan, I think Satan is closer to humans. Do you want to change?"

Steve licked the cream around his mouth: "...how do I feel that God is closer to human beings."

Royston patted him on the shoulder, making half of his body numb: "Young man, you can't do this!"

Steve hisses, shoulders away.

"You're talking about Jesus, not me." Royston glared at him.

Steve felt that he couldn't keep up with the drunk man's thinking: "OK."

He looked at the drunk man and blinked.

After all, I couldn't ask that sentence, were you in the cab when the accident happened.

When this sentence is asked, no matter what the answer is, it seems that it will lead to a bad ending.

Roy has always had a secret that they don't know, and now Bowen has it too.

I don't know if it was because the drunken Royston had too many familiar shadows on him, and his heart softened.

Smiling, he wiped the cream on his lips: "Try to believe in God. People like you, believing in Satan, always feel very distressing."

Royston looked at him, eyes wandering.

Steve looked straight into his red eyes: "Huh?"

Royston leaned over, very slowly, and Steve had all the time to dodge, but his vigilance was too low.

So until the face was enlarged until it couldn't be bigger, and then a pair of sweet and wine-smelling lips were printed on his mouth, he actually felt that everything was so unexpected.

His pupils reacted as slowly as his nerves to what had happened, slowly dilated, frozen in shock diameter.

Royston was half on top of him, meeting his eyes.

Steve looked at the large swathes of red in his eyes, and was in a trance, always feeling familiar.

Royston moved and bit his mouth, his teeth bouncing on his lips, as if testing for softness.

Before Steve pushed him away, he left by himself, looked at it for a while, and then pursed his mouth: "Steve, I miss you so much."

Steve froze.

The author has something to say: One more~