East Berlin's June Boat Song

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"No, you lied to me." My face was pale and trembling: "Why do you still lie to me now? I won't try to escape anymore. If you want to use me, just use it. It doesn't matter. But what belongs to me, at least it should be Leave me something."

Regardless of my trembling, he hugged me tightly, as if to comfort a distressed dog, and whispered pleasantly: "Don't you still have me?"

The implicit complacency in his sensuality turned his smile into a nasty one. He touched my hair over and over again, pressed me under him to touch me face to face, and pulled the quilt to cover me, trying to let his body temperature wrap me.

He comes in, explores, and I cry out.

He kept saying sorry, but in this fiery panting, there was a bit of sincere debt.He swallowed my tears and kissed my eyes so hard I cried out.

He said that he would rather hear me screaming because of excitement than hearing my heartbroken cry.

He said, you still have me, you still have me...

you only have me...

In the next few days, he cared for me very much. Although the gunshot wound was almost healed, the residual sequelae always made me cough uncontrollably.From time to time he looked at me worriedly, brought a cup of black tea in time, or ordered Alyosha to go to the town to buy medicine.

He took care of me like a child, wrapped me in his army coat, and sometimes put me to bed with nice words.This weird behavior is uncomfortable, but he doesn't seem to care, and even enjoys it.

Once at a shared lunch, he cut open a surimi pie on a plate and said, "If you're so hard to let go, you can think of me as your father."

The milk in my mouth spurted out in an instant, and then I coughed desperately, my face flushed, and he hurried over to help me breathe.

"You...you're out of your mind!" I shook off his hand and scolded him.

With an indifferent smile, he pulled me back to the dining table, and took the napkin to wipe the milk from the corner of my mouth.

"Be obedient, eat well first."

I stared at him bitterly, then stretched my brows and said indifferently: "It doesn't matter, you can do whatever you want."

A few days later we left the country for Leningrad.

St. Petersburg in the past, Leningrad today, the northern capital of Russia, the window to Europe.

The car drove by Nevsky Prospekt, and the surrounding buildings were both Baroque and Rococo, blending the unique style of old Russia, towering and heavy, as if they were telling stories of the years.Crossing the Moyka River, the Gribayedov Canal and the Fountain River, the avenue extends to the Alexander Nevsky Monastery.

I was attracted by the scenery by the river and wanted to get out of the car and walk along the river when Julian's hand suddenly tightened.

"It's cold outside," he said with a smile.

"But there is sunshine." I said to Alyosha in front, "Alyosha, please stop."

Alyosha glanced at him in the rearview mirror, and he nodded expressionlessly.

The Neva River glows blue and black in winter.There was a cold wind blowing, and flakes of snow fell in the shadow of the bridge piles.There are all kinds of ships coming and going on the canal in the distance, the sun turns the surrounding buildings into a warm orange-yellow, the bright red flags on the blue roofs flutter in the wind, and Soviet folk songs are heard from the surrounding shops.A Ukrainian woman in a brown mink coat came up to me and winked mischievously, and I smiled back at her, noting her beautiful blue eyes.

Although he got out of the car, he walked on the side of the street.Looking forward, his expression was inexplicably nervous. He was dressed in a black coat and a black round hat. The air pressure around his body was low, and he looked like an Italian mafia from a distance.

We didn't communicate. After walking for about a kilometer, I saw a brown carved armrest and sat down.He sat down naturally and took my hand on my lap.

Still speechless, we sat quietly.

I reviewed the memories of Russian novels in my mind in the flowing river, while he silently stared at the blue-black river surface, like a cold sculpture, only a faint look of wanting to leave and being deeply attracted appeared in his blue eyes. Like human beings, when facing drugs, they feel dangerous but are uncontrollably fascinated.

He has such a feeling for a river, which makes people suspect that the Neva River may not only carry the rushing water, but also the memories of his past.

His lips were slightly pursed, his brows were slightly wrinkled, his eyes gradually diverged, like a mist, the river wind blew his soft hair and brushed it on his smooth forehead.A cluster of slightly longer ones flitted past his eyes, and he just blinked instinctively without making any other movements.

You see, he is caught in the past, wandering in the aftertaste of the past, forgetting the present.

But he always tells me to forget.

Even he can't do it, why ask me to do it?

He suddenly stretched his brows and let out a long breath.

"I won." He raised the corners of his lips, complacent like a child. "Rhein, I just won."

"What did you win?"

"fear."

My heart trembled slightly, and I opened the corner of my mouth: "Do you still have fear?"

"Of course..." He turned his head to look at me, "I've always been afraid of you leaving me, haven't I?"

He smiled sincerely: "But, other than that, I don't have many things to fear. The Neva River is one."

"why?"

"Why..." He lowered his eyelashes slowly: "Because I jumped off before, with Sasha, no, I should have jumped off, Sasha also jumped off to save me..."

"The water quality of Ke Sasha was very poor at that time, I rescued him..."

This is the first time he has taken the initiative to tell me about the past. Today, there is a strange force that is giving birth to his desire to tell stories, which was almost impossible in the past.

"And then? Why did you jump into the river?"

"Because... I think I'm dirty." He grinned and his eyes drifted towards the past like light smoke.

"How old do you think we were? Twelve, Rhine, about the same age as you met me. Sasha and I set off from Moscow, along the October Railway to Leningrad, on our first mission... …At that time, Sasha was afraid and didn’t dare to do anything, but if the woman doesn’t die, we will be sent back to the Gulag, do you know what it’s like to be in the Gulag?”

His smile oozes with sadness: "That is the place we would rather abandon our parents and leave."

"So I did it first, and cut the woman's throat with a knife, but the technique was not sharp. The blood in the artery sprayed all over me. The woman died. I was terrified. I was covered in her blood, as if This smell will be with me for the rest of my life, so I jumped into the Neva River without even thinking about it, trying to wash myself off..."

"Maybe you won't believe it." He pursed his lips and chuckled, his eyes sparkled, but they were all bitter ripples: "I cried at that time, very loudly, Sasha thought I was stimulated to commit suicide, So he also jumped down, knowing that he couldn't swim..."

"He is afraid of killing people, but he is not afraid of dying with me."

"You two love each other very much." I choked up a little, and said with a smile, "Such a relationship is rare."

"Really?" His eyes trembled, he touched my face, and asked, "What about the one between us?"

"Do we still have feelings for each other?" I managed to maintain a smile: "Shouldn't you and Sasha be loyal to each other? Even if you are acting, you have to go to a certain level. Just put on a show, but don't take it seriously."

"Rhein, you know that saying such things will make me angry."

"What about Sasha? Don't you care about Sasha's feelings at all?"

Julian laughed softly: "Didn't you realize that Sasha really loves you?"

"None of you love me, I know." I pulled back my hand nervously, my face pale.

"You just want to use the so-called love to bind me, show it to the Americans and the British, make them salivate, and then you catch them all."

"You treat me like this, Sasha is not convinced, so you treat me like this. I'm just an object of anger between you, I know."

His expression suddenly became distressed, he frowned and touched my face and said, "How can you say such things so easily, doesn't your heart hurt?"

"It hurts." I smiled and nodded, "But it doesn't matter anymore."

I lowered my head and choked, raised my eyes and smiled again: "I still want to ask you, how does it feel to kiss Sasha? Who gets in and out when you two go to bed? I can't imagine how rough you are to Sasha, you It can't be the one below, right? You love him so much, you shouldn't be willing to let him hurt."

He smiled coldly and didn't answer.

"That's right, you two are so right and love each other so much, it can be exchanged." I stood up, stretched, turned my face away to hide my wet eyes, but my voice couldn't stop trembling.

"He can jump into the river for you. You are afraid that he will leave you, and you even cut him so long on the neck. Julian, your desire to control is a bit perverted, you have to restrain yourself."

I wiped away my tears and turned to him and said, "I can't scratch other people's necks anymore!"

He snorted softly, staring at me like a burning green phosphorescent fire, "Then you have to be careful, it's not as simple as scratching your neck."

My heart trembled, but there was still a wet smile: "It doesn't matter, you want to kill me, which is exactly what I want."

I turned and strode toward the street on the embankment when I heard his voice calling to me from below.

"Rhein."

I looked back at him, he was standing by the bench, looking up at me with a smile on his head, and then retreated step by step towards the Neva River.

"You said, if I jumped off now, would you come to rescue me?"

I was horrified, and the determined expression on his face showed that he was definitely not just joking.But I still smiled calmly, and answered him loudly: "No, because Alyosha and the guards will save you, many people will save you, and it's not up to me, a useless person."

"it is good."

He bent his eyes, stared at me with a smile on his face, and then stepped back faster. In my terrified eyes, he resolutely opened his hands, like a suffering saint, with a peaceful smile on his face, falling into the The icy and raging Neva.