canary in cage

When Cecil came out of the cellar, the cold air outside made him almost breathless. The pine forest in front of him was rustling by the wind, as if playing a symphony.

Just a few steps away, Cehir stood at the door, with the cold wind blowing straight into his neck, as if something was going to blow away, Cehir stopped at the door for several minutes before entering.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, Isri stopped cleaning her hands, walked to Cehir's side, and untied the tie around her collar.

"Master, the shawl is stuck to water, be careful of catching a cold."

Isri put the untied shawl on his arms, and his voice was soft.

Seeing Isri getting closer to him, Cehir subconsciously took a few steps back, his eyes wandering a little: "Remember to cooperate with me tomorrow."

Isri noticed Cehir's movement, twitched his brows slightly, stepped forward, came to Cehir, bowed as if to salute, and his voice was still flat.

"I see, sir."

Cehir paused, his throat choked up, and he was about to leave, but in the next second, he was grabbed by Isri.

"Isri! What are you doing!" Cecil blurted out.

He was a little scared, since he had stood outside for so long just now, he probably wouldn't have noticed that Cecil was hypnotizing himself.

But in the next second, Isri's words made Cecil fall into hell.

The tip of Isri's nose lightly slid across Cecil's collar, his voice was low and terrifying, as if he was in a cold storage: "Master, I smell bad on you."

Cecil's whole body trembled, his pupils widened suddenly, and he looked back at Isri: "What are you talking about! I don't know!"

Although he was used to Isri's gaze, Cehir's voice was still a little trembling when he turned his head to meet the pair of amber eyes again.

Isri hugged Cecil by the waist, and said without any emotion in his voice, "Young master should know better than me what I said."

Cecil was hanging in Isri's arms, but because he was afraid of falling, he had to grab Isri's arm.

"Isri, stop, I didn't touch him!" Cecil was a little panicked, with a slight look of fear in his eyes.

Isri stopped, turned Cehir up, and faced himself with a ghostly voice: "I said, don't let me smell other things on the young master."

Meeting Isri's gaze again, the fear in Cecil's eyes deepened a little, and the trembling of his body became more obvious.

"Isri, let me go!" Cecil tried to push Isri away.

His fear of Isri was already a so-called physiological reaction, and he couldn't use any strength in his body, so he could only let Isri carry him to the room.

Cecil's voice was terrible, and his jewel-like eyes were replaced by water light in a short while, and under the reflection of the light, he was even more pitiful.

Isri's so-called punishment is very simple. It is nothing more than a few slaps on the back of his waist. It was nothing at all, but as Cehir, who was born in a greenhouse and was praised by others, this fearlessness is the greatest punishment for him.

Cecil couldn't resist Isri, so he buried his head directly on Isri's neck, the soft and delicate hair kept rubbing against it, and the fire in Isri's lower abdomen was burning fiercely.

"Master, don't act like a spoiled child to me." Isri's voice was bewitching, and he slapped Cecil's lower back with a slap.

Immediately, the person on his body trembled, causing the tip of Isri's nose to slide over his collar again, and the disgusting smell rushed in mercilessly.

Isri's eyes turned cold, and the strength in his hands increased a bit, and Cecil let out a cry of pain, and his lower back burned badly.

Cecil grabbed the clothes on Isri's shoulders and clenched them into a ball. The fine sweat on his forehead was slightly soaked by his hair, but Isri had no intention of stopping.

One after another, the interval in between was not long, and before Cehir recovered his breath, the next wave of pain hit directly.

In the end, it was Cecil who couldn't take it anymore, his voice trembled slightly, the corners of his eyes were red from crying, and he tried to lift his head up.

"Isri, I was wrong."

Isri's hand paused slightly, and the look in his eyes was full of teasing. Seeing such a well-behaved young master, his heart softened a little.

"What's wrong with the young master?" Isri's voice was very soft, but he couldn't hear any doubts in his tone. He knew that Cecil would not answer his own question.

Sure enough, Cehir buried his raised head into Isri's neck in an instant, and the white and delicate ear tips were instantly dyed red.

Isri raised the corners of his lips in satisfaction, and brought Cehir to the bathroom, changed Cehir to one hand to support it, and filled the bathtub with warm water with the other hand.

"Do you need me to help the young master?" Isri opened his mouth and asked.

"No! You go out, I will wash myself."

Cecil immediately retorted and refused, and the water color in his eyes slid down his face because of the violent movement.

Isri put Cehir on the ground, raised his hand, and took off the glove on his hand. His cold fingertips gently wiped away the tears on his face, and his voice became soft again.

"I'll wait for you outside."

Isri took a step back, bowed and said.

Only after Isri withdrew did Cehir dare to let out a breath of relief, and the trembling of his body slowly stopped.

After a while, Cecil's eyes fell on himself in the mirror.

The slender and soft hair of the person in the mirror rests gently on the forehead, and the facial features on a slightly rounded face seem to be finely carved, and the white skin can turn pink with a slight pinch.

Those jewel-like blue eyes have been squeezed a little red with tears, more like a new breed of rabbit.

Cehir pushed his hair up, and slowly unbuttoned his clothes at the neckline. When he took them off, he didn't care to scratch his back and got hot. Suddenly, Cehir gasped, and his eyes were irritated again. burst of water.

Once again, Cecil looked at the door with resentful eyes, slowly retracted into the warm water, and closed his eyes.

Thinking back to your own conversation with Fili today, even though he was a child, the words that came out of his mouth were half-truths and half-false.

This kind of falsehood mixed with truth is often the most convincing. Cecil frowned a little bit more, carefully analyzing every sentence Philip said.

But the stimulation of the warm water made his lower back even more painful. As soon as he thought of something, his mind was instantly filled with Isri's face.

There are not many people with black hair in the West Asian continent. On that monstrous face, a pair of amber golden pupils have elevated his appearance to several levels. With a trace of coldness.

"Master, what do I need to cooperate with you tomorrow?" Isri's cold voice suddenly came into the bathroom.