canary in cage

Yisili raised the corners of his lips: "Young Master's order, I dare not disobey."

Cecil looked at Isri who lowered his head, a sneer flashed in his eyes, dare not defy?How dare I say it.

Cecil didn't reply, turned around and closed the door and walked in, leaving Isri standing outside the door alone.

It was already half dark outside, and the light snow just now had turned into a slightly heavier snow. Yisi was facing the door, standing straight outside the door, and within a few seconds, snow fell on his shoulders.

Cecil stood by the window on the second floor and glanced at Isri, with a sense of complacency in his eyes, but he still told himself in his heart that it would be good to just punish him like this, and let Isri in later.

Cecil hung his coat on the hanger, curled up in the blanket to warm up for a while, then picked up the book on the bedside and flipped through it.

Maybe it was because the lights in the room were a bit dim, but within a minute, Cecil fell asleep leaning on his back.

The wind outside also picked up, knocking on the glass, and the white snow fell in large pieces like torn pieces of paper.

Isri was still standing at the door, his black deacon uniform was stuck to his body like a piece of paper in such a blizzard, and it couldn't keep warm at all.

After a long time, the hair in front of the forehead became wet and sticky into strands, and soon formed fine icicles, and the hands in the white gloves were also frozen and unconscious.

Isri exhaled a mouthful of white mist, moved his frozen hands slightly, raised his head to look at the room that was still lit with faint lights, and chuckled lightly on his lips.

Today's young master really doesn't leave any room for it.

Isri sighed in his heart, then lowered his head again, looking at the tightly closed door in front of him.

—

Cecil woke up from the cold. When he opened his eyes, he sat up hastily and turned his head to look out the window. It was completely dark outside, and a large amount of snow fell on the window and refused to melt.

As if God was punishing, Cecil's eyes showed panic, and he hurriedly ran downstairs regardless of his cold hands and feet.

Even people in good health cannot withstand such a blizzard. Clouds of black mist have appeared in front of Isri's eyes, and his body has completely lost consciousness.

At the last second, as if he heard the movement in the house, Isri's ear tip moved, and he fell towards the snowdrift behind him with all his strength.

The beauty wrapped in black has fair skin, her long and slender legs curled up slightly, and her bright red lips are reflected on the black and white snow, like a red rose soaked in blood.

He fell asleep in the snow, his soul intertwined with hell, and the snowflakes wrapped around him like thorns.

The soul lives forever in hell, enshrining his god.

"Isri!"

His god came.

Cecil rushed out from the door and looked at Isri who fell on the ground, the panic in his eyes instantly filled his whole brain.

"Isri!" Cecil yelled again, raised his legs and stepped into the snow, and ran to Isri.

Cehir raised Isri's arm and hung it on his body, grabbed Isri's waist with one hand and dragged him in. Isri's cold body was tightly attached to Cehir's body, and the ice-cold Cehir Er shivered for a while, and couldn't help but speed up his steps a little.

The fingertips of the person leaning against Cecil moved slightly, and a subtle smile curled up on the corner of his lips.

-

After dragging the man to the fireplace, Cecil ran upstairs with confidence and took off the blanket to cover Isri. The ice on the hair on his forehead began to drip because of melting.

Seeing that Cecil ran upstairs again, he took off the towel and covered Isri's head to wipe it off. Seeing that he was still awake, he ignited the fire in the fireplace.

Cecil was sitting next to Isri, the panic in his heart hadn't eased just now, why did he suddenly fall asleep, and now he felt a little resentful towards himself.

Looking at the person wrapped in the blanket, no blemishes could be seen on the sharp-edged face, and under the reflection of the fire, the cold profile softened.

After waiting for a few more minutes, seeing that no one was awake, Cehir frowned, and was about to get up and add some wood to the fireplace.

Just when I was about to throw it, finally, the familiar voice reached my ears.

"Master, if the fire is burning hot, it will catch fire."

A trace of surprise flashed in Cecil's eyes, and he threw the wood in his hand aside, with a little excitement in his voice: "You're awake!"

Isri propped himself up and sat up, the movements of his hands were still a little stiff, he tore off the blanket covering his body and lifted it up to wrap Cehir in it.

"Master, be careful to catch a cold."

How can Cecil control these things now, he tried to reach out to take off the blanket but was twisted together by Isri.

"I'm not cold." Cecil looked at Isri.

Yisri's expression was gentle: "I will be in trouble if the young master catches a cold."

Hearing Isri's words, Cehir felt unhappy, so he slapped Isri's hand away and said, "Aren't you catching a cold now?"

Isri's hands froze in mid-air, and his face showed a bit of grievance. He raised the corners of his lips: "Young master is right."

Cecil stood up, put the blanket back on Isri, and put the wood he had left aside back in its original position, and finally couldn't help looking back at Isri and asked.

"What have you been staring at me for?"

Isri wrapped the blanket around her body tightly, and moved the end of her eyes: "So, is your punishment over, young master?"

Cecil was stunned for half a second, the tips of his ears were connected to his neck, his eyes turned red instantly, and his eyes were no longer fixed on Isri.

"I... I didn't say punishment!" Cecil stuttered.

There was playfulness in Isri's eyes, and he said in a provocative tone: "If it's not punishment... then the young master's game is a bit labor-intensive, do you need me to hire some servants?"

Hearing Isri's words, Cecil swept away the embarrassment just now, looked into Isri's eyes and said, "How many do you want to hire?"

"This is your decision, young master, I can't control it." Isri pursed his lips and raised the corners of his mouth.

Turning around, the problem still came back to him. Cecil couldn't resist, and interrupted: "One of you is enough."

"If I'm alone, I might not be able to stand your game, young master." Isri opened his mouth to tease again.

Speaking of games, this is a private taste of some nobles who take pleasure in abusing people, and even set up a market to sell servants at a low price to satisfy their so-called small games.

This is no longer a normal relationship between master and servant, but another kind of more obscure and perverted relationship.

When Esri said such words, he was undoubtedly not teasing the relationship between them.

Cecil's face was flushed by the words, and his eyes glared at Isri: "Don't mention this matter again!"

Isri's voice was respectful, but he still couldn't hide the smile inside: "I understand, young master, I will keep the secret."