The sun was about to go down, and the sunlight hitting the floor had a reddish-orange hue.
The honey milk had already cooled down, and a thin film of lipid formed on the surface of the milk. Nemo let out a breath, his eyes still a little dry. The invisible, icy shell that had been covering him finally collapsed. He sank into the world again, like a fish thrown into clear water again.
He was finally able to breathe smoothly.
Nemo could feel a soothing kiss on the side of his ear. Oliver withdrew his arms around him, spread out a pillow, and lay back again—his lover put his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling solemnly, obviously lost in thought.
After a moment of hesitation, Nemo threw off his shoes and climbed onto the bed cautiously.
Since Oliver disappeared, he hadn't closed his eyes for a moment. Although it was impossible for the Demon King to fall because of this trivial matter, but the spirit that had been stretched to the limit suddenly relaxed, and Nemo almost fell down. While dawdling forward, his knee touched the hilt of the Sword of Rest.
Nemo originally wanted to put the bone sword on the bedside beside him, but he regretted it the moment he stretched out his hand. After sneaking a glance at Oliver to make sure that the other party didn't care about it, Nemo put the sword in the gap between the two, and then drew his hand back as if scorched by fire.
That way it's still within reach of Oliver.
He quickly pulled half of the quilt, buried his face in the pillow, and turned his back to Oliver. Nemo originally thought that he would be so nervous that he couldn't fall asleep, but the sun was warm, and the other party's heartbeat was gentle and powerful - he almost fell asleep in a few seconds.
"Oli." As if to confirm something, Nemo stared at a thread on the edge of the pillowcase and spoke again. "When everyone gathers again, I have to make this clear."
He paused for a moment, but Oliver had no intention of answering, so he had to continue. "I do count as... some kind of danger, and it's not fair to them to keep Mr. Ann and Mr. Cross in the dark."
"Dylan knows?" Oliver quickly grasped the point and threw a rhetorical question.
"He knew it from the start. If I'm not mistaken, he probably was—"
"Stop, stop." Oliver interrupted him quickly, "I have a bad feeling... Nemo, I'm still digesting your identity. I'll talk about Dylan later."
The air was completely quiet for a while.
"About the confession, would you like to hear my thoughts?" Just when Nemo almost fell asleep again, Oliver took the initiative to speak.
"Yeah." Nemo replied dazedly.
"This matter is up to me." Oliver's voice was firm and steady. "I understand what you're thinking, Nemo. I'm not going to hide it from them, but now is not the right time."
Nemo was sober: "How do you say?"
"Let's not talk about Ann's position, Mr. Cross will definitely report the situation to the Holy See. Compared with ordinary judge knights, his attitude is indeed milder... But your situation is rather special, I think you know."
"… I see."
"None of us now know what the 'Once You' was planning. If you were to come clean about it, it would only lead to pointless conflict and panic. Even if they don't have direct evidence... If anyone wants to investigate There are still some clues about the Church of the Abyss." His lover sounded terribly calm, "Personal advice, we'd better talk to them after we have some clues."
"… "
"As for the safety of those two... Trust me, Nemo. Neither Ann nor Mr. Cross will survive if your identity is revealed - after all, you were once companions, and no one would want to be lenient in this kind of thing. "Everyone just wants to be safe."
Nemo wrapped the quilt tightly and curled up. The thorn-covered depression hit him again. "I see."
"And it's better for me, as a human, to confess this matter than yourself." A warm hand reached out and rubbed the back of his head. There was a screeching of fabric behind him—Oliver seemed to draw the weapon between them, laying it on the edge of the bed. "You don't have to be in such a hurry to prove yourself, it's okay."
"Go to sleep," Oliver added, "I'm not going anywhere."
Before the end of the sentence had landed, Nemo fell asleep, like some powerful hypnotic spell. Anxiety and anxiety are still there, but now they are extremely thin. I guess I can sleep all the way until Ann arrives, Nemo thought in the haze.
But he woke up much earlier than he thought.
The sky outside the window was an inky blue close to black, not even a few stars could be seen, and the warm sunlight disappeared. Nemo sat up abruptly, leaned to his side instinctively, the next moment his fingertips touched the warm skin - Oliver's temperature was still there, he was relieved.
Really not a dream.
Nemo looked at the people around him. Oliver maintained the posture with his hands behind his head, his green eyes still staring at the ceiling. He turned his gaze over now and met Nemo's.
"You didn't sleep." Nemo withdrew his hand in embarrassment.
"Hmm." Oliver replied softly.
So Nemo gathered his courage and put his hand on it again. Oliver wasn't shaking, but his muscles did tighten under his skin. The skin wasn't smooth, and now he could feel bulging scars and sunken dark wounds. Anger and pain came out of his heart again, and Nemo gasped, running his fingers along a long scar.
Then he was grabbed by Oliver.
Nemo looked at Oliver's face subconsciously, and found that the other's eyebrows were slightly twisted. He subconsciously wanted to withdraw his hand, but found that Oliver's hand was clenched tightly.
"This is not a dream." Oliver's tone was very determined, and the strength in his hand increased a bit. "I've been thinking about it, Nemo... but it's not a dream."
The faint moonlight shone into the room, and Oliver's nightgown opened slightly due to the movement, revealing the hideous scar on his left chest. Nemo moved closer, pressing the scar with his other hand. He could feel Oliver's body stiffen with his movements, but the warmth attracted him, and Nemo couldn't take his hand back.
This reality is too beautiful, even now, he dare not believe it from the bottom of his heart. Maybe he'll wake up at some point and find himself sleeping in some lonely, cold corner—
And he's not the only one with this concern.
First the fingers, then the entire palm. Just like touching human skin for the first time, the other person's temperature continuously poured from the palm of his hand. For the first time in his life, Nemo had the idea of taking the initiative to plunder or something.
He likes the temperature.
Before his own consciousness could react, he had put his hands on Oliver's pillow and stared condescendingly at those familiar green eyes—they were glistening dimly at the moment.
"Do you mind?" Nemo asked softly, he could feel his pupils losing control and turning back into a demon. But he doesn't care about it at all now. His heart was beating so loudly that it kept pumping blood into his brain, and Nemo once again forgot to breathe.
"Of course not." Oliver's voice was hoarse.
So Nemo leaned down, pressed his left hand on the fatal scar, and bit the other's lip very seriously. I just feel that the next moment my heart will explode with joy and sorrow. Oliver stretched out his hands and rubbed his ears and cheeks gently. The temperature in the room was rising, and the skin under his palm showed a thin layer of sweat, which became slippery, bringing a little coolness.
They kissed each other intently, as if the world outside the room had long since ceased to exist.
Oliver's slender fingers inserted into his black hair, and his movements were extremely light, and the heat in his palms became more and more obvious. Nemo let out a small sigh from his throat, raised his arms slightly, and licked the corner of his lips.
"You don't need to be so careful," he mumbled, pulling Oliver's robe collar wider with one hand. "You know, I'm not fragile—"
Before he finished speaking, the world in his eyes suddenly turned upside down.
It took a few seconds for Nemo to realize what happened - Oliver rolled over quickly, and held his wrist tightly with his hand. The gentleness and obedience just now dissipated in an instant, and his aura was like a beast that gave the final blow to its prey.
"Yeah," said Oliver, word by word, "I know."
Then he bent down and kissed Nemo in the eye. It was his last move that had to do with the word "soft".
After the wet kiss, before Nemo could open them, a tiny sting hit the side of his neck. He wanted to struggle, but he could feel the eagerness and sadness in the bite. The numbness hit his brain, and when he tried to inhale air again, his breathing turned into a slight panting.
Come on, Nemo thought. Completely relax the body.
Then the concept of "time" completely disappeared from this ordinary room. The crazy night wasn't really over until the sun rose the next day.
"…Have a discussion, Ollie," Nemo muttered feebly, burying his face in the soft pillow. "You can kill me, I really don't care... but this kind of killing is fine, okay?"
However, his lover did not give a definite answer. Oliver grunted vaguely and fell asleep.
Nemo braced himself, hating his physique so much for the first time. He gritted his teeth and applied a cleaning spell to the crumpled sheets, repairing the newly added cracks by the way. Oliver was lying on the pillow, sleeping very deeply. The loose nightgown had long since turned into pieces on the floor, and the scarred upper body was exposed to the air.
Nemo turned his eyes away in frustration, and the only bit of unhappiness left in his heart disappeared instantly. There were many bloody scratches on the opponent's back, and as a final revenge, he was determined not to treat them.
Even though the cleansing spell was much faster, he decided to take a shower. The touch of hot water on his body brought him back to reality again, and the absurd night left few marks on his skin. Nemo stared deeply at the splashing water, and found that no matter what, he couldn't get back the heavy mood of the previous days.
Oliver really isn't afraid of himself at all, he thought seriously. Even if the opponent's proof is a little too strong, that's always good news.
After a careful rinse, Nemo dries his hair casually, puts on a loose robe, and plans to go to the restaurant to get some food. After all, the pudding and milk were ignored by them all night, and they were no longer suitable for entrance.
However, when Nemo just picked up a glass of hot milk and was about to take a sip, he truly returned to reality—
Ann was sitting at a table by the window with a piece of oatmeal in her mouth. The grey parrot was chomping at the nut biscuits by the side, and it met Nemo directly and let out an earth-shattering cough.
The female warrior raised her head, raised her chin, and said hello. But when she saw the other party's situation clearly, Ann stretched out a hand and slowly took the oatmeal bread from her mouth.
"… Where's Oliver?" She swallowed the bread and cleared her throat. "I remember you wrote 'all goes well' on the mission?"
"Still asleep," Nemo said with a stern face, his ears hot—half nervous, half embarrassed.
"Oh, still sleeping—no! What time is it!" Ann clenched the poor loaf. "Can't you cure him? Oliver is usually... at five o'clock... yes... you shower, Nemo? This time? ?"
She glanced at the plate Nemo was holding, which undoubtedly contained breakfast for two.
The female warrior's expression froze.
"My God, you really—no, no. I mean, you gave Oliver—?" Ann raised her eyebrows high, ignoring the gazes around her, her hands making rude gestures.
The heat exploded directly on his face, and Nemo turned his head and left without saying a word.
"This reaction... Oops, it doesn't seem to be." An tutted loudly, "Hey, don't leave yet, come back! I'm sorry!... Puchi."
"Young people are thin-skinned." Looking at Nemo's running back, Ann poked the grey parrot with a smile. "I can't see that Oliver's kid really did it. This is not a problem that medals can solve. Cross should apply for a trophy for him."
The nuts in Baglmore's mouth fell directly on the table.
It stood dumbfounded for a few seconds, then passed out neatly.
,Wonderful!
(m.. = )