sinovels Chapter 45 Price
Chapter 45 Price
Valentin came back to live.
His clothes were hung on the hanger again, the pillow on the other side of the bed was dented again, the wine-stained tablecloth, and the bloody towel in the bathroom were all taken away by him. A little, and the lack of a towel will not cause much trouble to life; it's just that when he saw my neatly folded pajamas at the bedside, he paused and didn't wear them again.Other than that, everything is the same as it used to be.
Oh, and there's another difference - I don't talk to him anymore.
I still remember the moment when I opened my eyes, the first thing I heard was a hissing sound, and then I felt the oxygen mask on my face. The simplest activities of this living body require the assistance of a broken plastic cover.I have never been so powerless, there is no such thing as angels, romance, or pureness. There is only one sentence ringing in my mind: I can't even die.
Then Valentin opened the door and walked in.The moment I saw him, I was speechless, as if I was strangled by the neck and hung back into the air again. The fetters and panic surged again, forcing me to take responsibility; With a trace of fear, he turned his head and called out to the doctor; when the doctor came, he stood at the door, he was very tall, blocking half of the door, but he looked a little shy.
After the doctor left, the atmosphere turned cold, he moved from the door to the foot of the bed, and asked me if I was okay.I didn't say a word, and he came to lift my quilt, trying to make me sit up, but he lifted the clothes up, and he suddenly froze. He looked at me in disbelief, and then slowly put down the clothes, Don't touch me anymore.It was only later that I realized that he must have seen my messy tattoos, and those wounds had scabbed over, crawling on his legs and waist, and I don’t know whose scars it was.
I stayed in the hospital for two or three days, sleeping most of the time, as if I wanted to make up for all the time I didn't sleep in the previous few days.Valentin was going to work, and he came once at noon and once in the evening. He sat on the sofa for two hours in silence, and occasionally raised his head to ask me if I drank water or if I was eating, but I never answered. So he stopped asking, sat there, didn't play with his mobile phone, just stared at the corner of the room, or the 10-minute sales advertisement on the old TV, without blinking his eyes.
He acquiesced to all this and was very submissive to me.I think he probably felt that I hated him, so he stopped being tough on me; but his obedience would only make me feel ashamed of myself, as if I was threatening him with death.When I was lying on the sofa, I thought that if I didn't die, I would rather not see him for the rest of my life when I woke up.But now I was so caught off guard that I ran into his face, and I didn't even have to escape. God seemed to want me to give him an explanation on purpose.
So I can only choose to remain silent.Any explanation, any reason is unnecessary, when the wound was exposed in front of his eyes, it has been clearly and silently announced: this is how it happened.
On the day I was discharged from the hospital, he packed my things. Actually, it was nothing. It was just the food he brought that I hadn’t touched, and a few changes of clothes. But he rustled in front of the table for a long time. I had to temporarily look away from the window to see what he was doing.He turned his back to me, his shoulders trembled faintly, one palm rested on the table, one hand was raised and lowered, he sniffed his nose twice and then raised it again, rattling the plastic bag in front of him.I realized he was crying.
I really shouldn't have made a sound at the time, maybe I was too surprised, I didn't expect him to cry in such a situation, it was too sudden; I approached him to confirm whether he was really crying; when I saw the back of his hand When the reflective tear stains were on the face, he finally said: "—Valentin,"
He jerked violently, paused for a second, then sobbed uncontrollably again.
"Are you dumb? The gas—is it poisonous to you?" He cried so hard that I couldn't hear the middle words clearly.The sobbing voice of this kind of adult men is very high-pitched, as if they have returned to their boyhood, it is always heartbreaking to hear, I should have been heartbroken at the time, but after this experience, I dare not and do not want to respond , so I just looked at him for a while and said quietly: "Let's go."
These few exposed tears secretly reversed the roles between me and Valentin.In the past, he was always the one who said nothing and hid everything, but now he is completely different; I really don't know what he is doing. If he doesn't love me and look down on me, why would he want to return?Why are you shedding tears for me again?What did he want to explain through these few tears?To win my forgiveness?But if he looks down on me, why does he need my forgiveness?
On the way back, I suddenly asked, "What are you doing with the ice cream?"
"What ice cream?"
He doesn't remember.I turned my head and didn't speak again.
It was now November, and the weather was already very cold for me, and my relationship with Valentin had also dropped to freezing point.Under my day-to-day cold violence, he already knows that every morning he gets up and brings me breakfast to the bedside table, because I will never go out of the room even if I am hungry all day; Stay at home well, and occasionally bring back fried noodles from a Chinese restaurant; every day he tries to get me to talk, sometimes I pay attention to him, sometimes I just keep my eyes open, thinking his words are the background sound, and he doesn’t exist.
This day, after changing his clothes and preparing to go to work, he asked as usual, "What do you want to do today?"
I was staring at the ceiling in a daze, and laughed out loud: "I want to die."
"..."
After a while, he continued to ask, "Don't want to go to school?"
I looked at him: "I don't have a car."
He acted surprised, as if he had never heard of it, but he must have remembered it, so he didn't ask why there was no car.
There was a moment of silence. "Do you want me to take you there?" He actually said in a discussing and tentative tone, which had never happened before.
"No." I refused.
After hearing this, he squatted down on the bed, forced me to look at him, and asked, "What do you want?" His voice was very hoarse, and he probably didn't sleep well last night.
"You kept yelling the other day, 'Everything has a price'. What do you mean?"
"Do you want to break up?"
I am silent.He didn't seem to want to get an answer either, so he wiped his face, lowered his head and shook his head: "It's up to you, it's up to you."
"I'm leaving," he said, standing in the doorway and looking back, while I, like any time, lay in bed and played dead without responding.
He hesitated, then backed up and pulled the gas cock, and I sat watching him, laughing.I think he was still afraid of my death.Maybe he is just afraid that I will die in his house, but he still cares about whether I die or not, that's enough.I think I should have a vengeful mentality. I didn't really want to commit suicide for him at the time, but I had no other choice in this situation. He gave himself a knife in the face.If he believed it, he was afraid--as now, it's hard for me not to attribute it all to me threatening his death.It can't be because he suddenly loves me.
I often find it ridiculous that my heart is finally tougher than his. He is afraid of my death, but I am not.Death is my weapon. Valentin, who is not afraid of anything, is afraid of this, which is both expected and unexpected.He thought I was going to kill myself for him, and I was guilty of it, and I used that badly to torment him, and even though his guilt hurt us both, it hurt him more.
But such days will not last, and Valentin has his own resistance.One night after twelve o'clock, he quietly got up from the bed, leaned over to check if I was asleep, then rustled for a while, put on his coat and went out.The moment he closed the door, I opened my eyes and went to the window to look down. He was sitting in the car and looked up. I didn’t hide. I don’t know if he saw it or not. Anyway, he started the car. Headed in the direction of the familiar bar.Every night.Usually he will come back at three o'clock, sometimes at four or five o'clock, or even stay away all night. I didn't show any objection. , he returned to the real Valentin.
From the moment I stood in front of the window, I knew my punishment was limited to him.This cannot be avoided.
At eight o'clock that night, Valentin came back, two hours later than usual, but he still boiled red soup and marinated pork ribs. The main food was something he packed from an outside restaurant.I could tell he had already eaten, but I sat down as usual and took a couple of bites to watch him pretend to eat with me.
Halfway through eating, my fork fell to the ground. Valentin paused, seeing that I had no intention of picking it up, leaned down/body picked it up, and went to the kitchen to get me a new one.He just sat down and was stuffing food into his mouth when I put a foot on his lap and stared at him while Valentin lowered his eyes and rolled his throat as he swallowed and I knew he was never calm, this It was the first time I actively contacted him after I was discharged from the hospital.I started to step on his crotch, and I could see that he was patient and submissive, trying to atone for his sin.As I stepped on it harder and harder, he expressed discomfort and moved his body back, so I immediately kicked his crotch, and he opened his legs and let me step on them.Although I tried hard, I didn't step on it hard. After a while, his words swelled into a ball, and he was faintly hot. He also put down the fork at this time, his breath was unsteady, and he gasped in a low voice, with his palms on the bare tabletop, His fingertips turned white, if the tablecloth was still there, he would definitely be holding it in his hand.
"Don't—" he stopped, accidentally bumped the plate, and the fork fell to the ground.
But I ignored it and didn't allow him to pick it up. I stepped on his scrotum and said:
"Valentin, I'm going to fuck/you."