Wine and Gun

Chapter 134

Albarino's hand rested loosely on the flannel of the sofa, too relaxed for a man facing a psycho killer. The way he scrutinizes each other is reminiscent of the kind of curious animal that would rush onto the road unsuspecting, not knowing that death was coming until it was crushed to pieces.

When he made such an expression, he couldn't help but make others suspicious: even if someone would actually remove those scabs and even let his blood flow out again, he wouldn't object.

Herstal suspects that it's just a deceptive mask, but it's also quite intriguing.

He could only frown, pinched the flesh with his fingers, and pushed him to the armrest of the sofa.

Albarino didn't even try to struggle as he fell - he literally lay there lazily, with one hand on the sofa and his legs hanging uncomfortably over the edge of the sofa. Herstal heard the unsuccessful crash as he clumsily tried to shake off his shoes.

Then, Albarino said, "Are we really at this stage?"

"what?"

"Eat many meals politely, get to know each other and each other's family deeply, and finally get to the stage where you can talk while lying on an ugly but soft polka dot sofa - the normal flow of love, right? "Albarino pursed his lips, and so successfully threw his shoes off, Herstal heard the shoes hitting the heavy Bang on the ground.

"Do you call this a relationship?" Herstal asked, as a lawyer, he felt that the way the other party came to a conclusion was a bit illogical.

"It can be. For example, one is an unruly and willful little Spanish princess who just wants to play games with people who have no heart; the other is a small dwarf with low self-esteem and vulnerability, who receives a beautiful white rose and thinks it is love ." Albarino snorted, "It's a love story by some standards."

"I think you're making fun of yourself," Herstal pointed out.

"At least self-deprecating is a virtue," Albarino replied languidly, smiling. "I think it's more humorous than a murderous maniac who mocks every one of his victims, doesn't it?"

Herstal could only snort at this.

Still, Herstal's hand didn't come out from under Albarino's shirt, under which the forensic doctor hid his muscles to work out, of course: just look at him hanging Thomas Norman upside down in the water The workload at that time.

Herstal touched all the way up, chasing the knife marks with his fingers as if groping for the veins of a leaf. He finally touched the other's rǔ tip, hesitated for a few seconds, then reached out and rubbed it lightly.

Albarino let out a low hiss.

"I guess you're pretty happy with your crime scene," Albarino said, his voice deliberately lower, "I know what's going on in your head—just say it. "

Herstal stared at Albarino, those green eyes somehow reminiscent of the colorful skin of a viper.

"I want to fuck you again," he said.

Note:

[1] The example Albarino cites is Wilde's Birthday of the Spanish Princess.

Still, I have to say: that's a ghost love story!

Chapter 36 Snake 04

Albarino's expression seemed a little surprised, although he didn't know if it meant he was really surprised or just pretended to be such an expression. He seemed to think for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed.

"Who was accusing me of 'complicating things'?" he said while laughing. "How do I feel that things are more complicated now than a mouth job?"

He was still lounging when he said this, head resting on the arm of the sofa, staring fearlessly at Herstal who looked down at him. On one level, this pose says a lot—isn't there a saying that carnivores don't reveal their belly to a rival predator?

"I think it's because we have nowhere to go now," Herstal replied calmly.

"After the Westland pianist attacked the chief medical examiner of the Medical Examiner's Office?" Albarino asked happily rhetorically.

Herstal seemed unmoved: "You know that well."

"Of course I understand, because this is the result I want." Albarino admitted frankly, and added a completely unnecessary emphasis on "is" to show the tone, "I am willing to be a qualitative change in the relationship. That pusher - because that's exactly what I'm looking forward to, and I'd love to see how much of your soul you can reveal to one of your kind - but you? As far as I know, that wasn't what you envisioned in the first place, But now you seem to be enjoying it too."

They all knew what Albarino was referring to: when Herstal chose to go to Albarino that rainy night, he had no intention of turning Albarino's home into a pianist's crime scene .

Now that I think about it, Albarino is very suspicious that the other party may just want to sneer at him, throw two punches in the face, or say a few words that mean a clean break, I won't play with you, etc. After all, the killer is qiáng That thing really made Herstal very angry.

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