Chapter 11 Entering the City (3)...
The boy's body froze in place, and fragments of childhood memories suddenly flooded into his mind.
"It's so dirty - a gypsy son of a bitch is not worthy of eating with us. I'll be infected with muteness."
Will unhappily threw the plate to the ground, and the expensive carpet was covered with soup, which gave off the disgusting fishy smell of cold mutton soup.
Six-year-old Leo sat blankly at the corner of the dining table, not saying a word. He himself didn't understand why his father asked him to sit at the table to eat today.
He used to eat his meals among the servants, eating the leftovers of his master.
This was the first time he sat at the dining table. The lace tablecloth on the table was several times more expensive than the clothes he was wearing. He sat on the stool in a daze, without any ripples in his heart, as if he had already anticipated his own ending.
His father frowned and knocked on the table. Will's mother quickly hugged her son and scolded him in a low voice.
He saw tears welling up in Will's eyes.
His father smiled kindly and asked him, "Leo, what is the secret recipe your mother left you?"
"What secret recipe?" he asked in a low voice.
"The secret recipe to turn stone into gold," the father said with a good-natured smile, "Your mother left you a copy before she ran away."
He tried desperately to search for memories in his mind, but his brain was empty. Leo raised his head, stared into the man's eyes, and shook his head.
In the man's eyes, Leo was challenging his authority.
The father in front of him suddenly became like a blown-up balloon, his face quickly became red and swollen. The man raised his hand high and slapped him in the face with a bang.
The force was so strong that he rolled off the stool and lay on the ground. His head was buzzing and he couldn't even get up.
The father wiped his fingers carefully with a towel, as if touching him was like touching a virus.
"Don't give him any food these days. This shameless bastard will behave himself after a few meals of starvation."
He covered his face and raised his head, only to meet Will's expression full of gloating.
Will opened and closed his lips, mouthing: a filthy bitch's bastard. He then grinned, not sparing his malice.
He curled up on the floor. Countless people passed by him, but no one dared to care about him or anything. They stepped over him like they were garbage, fearing that they would be infected with the dirty virus that ran in the blood of the gypsies.
Leo wished someone could pull him up, no matter who it was, his father, a servant, or even Will. He didn't want to be pushed around like trash, but no one was willing to touch him.
He lay on the floor for a long time until the cleaning servant couldn't stand it anymore and kicked him out with the broom.
Chaotic memories flashed through his mind like lightning, and he seemed to be back in the scene, except that Will was replaced by Irene.
Everyone thinks he is dirty.
Now there is one more her.
The endless rage in his blood was mixed with the grievance that he deliberately ignored. The emotions were running rampant in his body, clamoring to use the woman's blood to quell the anger.
The murderous intent that had originally ignited became more and more intense.
Leo looked at her with increasingly cold eyes, as if he was looking at a dead object.
Irene was rubbing her nose and had no energy to pay attention to him. The woman's hoarse voice sounded, with a thick sob tone:
"I'll help you wash your dirty clothes later. You can wear my clothes first, and I'll buy you new ones when we get into the city."
She faced Leo's frightening and cold gaze and tried her best to make her tone as natural as possible.
The moment the words came out of her mouth, she realized that her words might hurt Leo's fragile nerves, but she couldn't swallow them back.
All she could do was try her best to make amends, let Leo know that she had never disliked him, and use this to solve the problem of Leo's women's clothing.
Although it is like picking up sesame seeds and losing watermelons, it is better than not making any excuses.
And... Irene glanced at Leo's right hand and felt that a revolver would appear in it and point it at her in the next second.
Her body seemed like a taut bowstring, ready to be launched out of place at any time.
Within five meters, who is faster, the bullet or her? You can tell the answer without even thinking about it.
Her eyes were sore from being open for too long, but she didn't even have the time to blink.
If she lost her life because of this sentence, Irene's heart was beating violently, regret mixed with nervousness, stimulating cold sweat to keep pouring out.
The woman looked like a fragile deer with a tiger's neck firmly grasped - frightened, panicked, and powerless.
This thought suddenly popped up in Leo's mind, and the subsequent sense of pleasure climbed up his spine, but at the same time, a bottomless fear also hit his mind - the natural fear that arises when one's emotions are controlled by someone.
The two emotions were like a tangled genetic chain, one side convinced him to keep her, while the other side instigated him to kill her.
But, is she worth his hesitation?
*
Damn it, how come he is more sensitive than a teenage kid?
The gaze that fell on her was heavy and judgemental, as if Leo was considering whether her words were credible.
Can't give him time to think -
Irene clutched the hem of her skirt and took a deep breath.
She rushed forward without hesitation, and before Leo could react, she reached out and hugged him tightly, clasped her hands behind his back, and rested her chin on his shoulder, with an attitude of complete trust.
Her mouth and nose were filled with the thick smell of blood. Irene subconsciously held her breath and strategically pressed his hands to his sides - so that she would be aware when he tried to grab the gun.
Leo also realized this, and he wanted to just throw Irene away and shoot her to death.
But the woman's slender arms were around his waist, and her lips were only a few centimeters away from his earlobe.
Leo could clearly feel the hot breath she exhaled, her high body temperature, her soft body pressed against his, and the unintentionally seductive tone of her voice when she spoke.
The intimate touch of skin against skin was like a deadly gift from the devil. The desire that had once flourished became real at this moment, and everything before my eyes seemed almost like an hallucination.
Unspeakable filthy desires were churning in his heart, and the boy's heart, liver, spleen and lungs felt as if they were being fried in oil and cooked in fire.
Want to be closer - closer to me -
This desire came with great force, pouring into his body like a tidal wave.
The woman seemed to be able to hear his thoughts and hugged his back even tighter.
But his mind murmured: No, this won't work. If you are used to the warmth of being in contact with others, how can you face the loneliness of being alone?
It was like a bucket of cold water was poured over his head, chilling his body and mind, and even making him feel cold in his bones.
Leo tried his best to push against Irene's shoulders to increase the distance between them, but his wrists were numb and weak and he couldn't exert any strength at all.
He was like a criminal imprisoned on a cliff by golden chains, unable to break free no matter how hard he tried.
The young man closed his eyes as if giving up on himself, his arms hanging loosely at his sides clutching the edge of his pants.
He has already been hugged, what else can he do? Can the memory be erased?
Leo turned his head away and even began to hate himself.
He stared at himself as if he saw a pathetic stray dog with its mouth open, tempted by a poisoned sausage.
*
so--
In Irene's opinion, it didn't seem like he was refusing, but rather he was trying to accept it.
She seemed extremely aggrieved and even sniffed. "I don't mean to dislike your dirtiness. I just wanted to find an excuse to get you to change into my clothes. I was afraid that you didn't want to wear women's clothes, so I wanted to stimulate you."
Nonsense, she obviously cared, otherwise why would her breathing be so rapid, and she even tilted her head slightly to avoid his blood-stained collar.
Leo's eyes were cold and his body was stiff. He didn't know why he hadn't killed Irene yet - this hypocritical woman who was full of lies.
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