【Kip】Silent cohabitation

-I remember my birthday that year, and I also remember that song.

When Putin returned home, the whole house was surprisingly dark. Even the crack under the door of Kirilen's room was dark. As soon as he opened the door, the darkness invaded his pupils and froze at the door. Suddenly, the back of his neck was touched. It was warm at the last few minutes, and the body was frozen in place when the freezing reaction was triggered.Kirilenko's pink head protruded from the side of Putin's face, with some doubts on his face.

Putin turned around as if he had just woken up from a dream. The man was wearing a shirt and a formal suit, holding a takeaway bag of sugar water in his hand. The fingers on the back of his neck turned into palms covering the back of his head, making his hair fluffy and messy.The temperature of the man's palm became hot as he climbed the stairs of the tall building, paralyzing Putin along the spinal cord.Putin sat down at the table stupidly, looked up at Kirilenko.The latter raised his eyebrows at Putin, put the takeaway belt in front of the person, and after changing his shoes, he also opened the chair and sat down.

While eating dessert, Kirilenko looked up at his mobile phone, and looked at Putin, who was buried in eating without looking up.Kirilenko started the car in the parking lot after finishing the entertainment with the teachers of the Putin Academy, but turned in the opposite direction from home, and went to Putin's working place to arrest people.As a result, he only saw the moment when the restaurant light board went out, and the man had no choice but to start the car again in disappointment. The moment he stepped on the accelerator, he was attracted by the Tangshui roadside stall.Kirilenko likes these things, which are full of fireworks and ordinary taste. After hesitating for a while, he also ordered sweet red bean paste for the boy at home.

Then the noble writer's eyes were also stained with lust.

After eating the red bean paste in his bowl, Putin did not go back to his room to get clothes for a bath as usual, but sat in his original position and looked at Kirilenko with questioning eyes for a while, before turning back to get his notebook.Sensing the boy's eyes, Kirilenko tilted his head to sense what the boy was thinking, and answered,

"Recently, I have an event to attend, and it may be very late for meetings, negotiations and entertainment."

After receiving the response, Putin nodded but was still in a daze. Instead, it was Kirilenko's turn to look into his eyes, "Is there anything else you want to know?" But he gave another smile, shook his head, put his hands together and thanked him and went back to the room.

Unspeakable feelings will sneak out of the eyes. Putin has learned to observe men's eyes, which are crystal clear at certain moments, soft at certain moments, and bright when he is cleaning the carrots on the window sill in the morning.The young man felt that there was something hidden in the man's eyes, but his intuition told him that there seemed to be nothing bad about it.

Kirilenko was dazzled by the concerns he had concealed, and didn't realize that the boy was also a little strange.

Before the surprise or fright, the atmosphere is a bit subtle, one party tries every means to conceal it, and the other party notices something but can only do everything possible to guess.

Putin was sitting at the table in the room playing with his mobile phone. Komanich knew that Putin was interested in the contributor who was about to give a lecture, so he sent Putin his personal homepage URL.

Putin clicked in, the homepage only used the simplest theme, and scrolled down to see the articles posted by people. It seemed that this person's articles were only published a week after the magazine was published, and occasionally there would be some small articles of his own. emotion.Putin swiped to the typhoon day half a month ago, and the writer seemed to sleep comfortably at home all afternoon.

Instinctively, the thumb swipe up to trigger a page refresh, and Putin found that the deity had just changed the cover of his homepage and turned into Missbell on the flyer.Putin took a casual glance at the promotion of the event, clicked on the category of photos, and then began to tremble with his little finger against the phone.

He saw a promotional photo of Kirilenko, wearing a trendy T-shirt, leaning on a railing on a foreign street.

You will never think that your friends may be secret agents or wanted criminals.Putin divides knowledge and non-knowledge too far.

In his eyes, Kirilenko knew Kirilek, but Kirilek did not, so Kirilenko would not be Kirilek. The same publishing house was advertised on social networking sites, and the tone of reply to the text of Yan Confederate fans was the same embarrassment and bewilderment.

But now they are the same person, and Putin plans to read the articles of those who live under the same roof and who will be giving lectures tomorrow, Kirulek’s, and Kirilenko’s.When he switched the interface, he secretly saved the man's promotional photo, even though the filming location was only in a theme park in the same city.

It is also different to look at the words written by the writer who is far away and the landlord who is in the next room.Putin can't help but put the content inside Kirilenko's own living habits. Those seemingly depressing words are actually just carrots that Kirilenko found himself planted and refused to speak. Excited and energetic, and because I rarely went to the supermarket to buy chilled carrots and cold beer.

Life and literature may be so simple, Putin blinked his dry eyes, and pressed down the raised corners of his mouth with his fingertips.

The schedule for watching the lecture tomorrow is displayed on the desktop,

With joyful anticipation, the drums beat again.

From the morning to the end of the course at noon the next day, many students ran to the lecture hall, and many of them were young ladies in young clothes. They basically fell in love with the eye-catching appearance of this writer.

Kirilenko knows how famous he is, and he doesn't expect to win any literary awards for casually writing film reviews and essays.The topic of this lecture is handsome writers in the same city, and the key words are the same city, or appearance.Sometimes Kirilenko suddenly realizes that he laughs at himself too.

When Putin and Komanich arrived, the first few rows were already full.The two of them sat in the middle row, and by accident, they were in the middle of the stage looking down at the field of vision.

The big fluorescent tubes were turned off, the spotlights were turned on, and Kirilenko's pink hair turned into silver strands.The applause sounded, and Kirilenko bowed his head, and when he looked up, he took a slight deep breath to indicate what he saw at this moment.

When Kirilenko was answering the host's questions, he always glanced at the audience unconsciously.Others only looked up at him when he was taking care of the audience, but Putin only dared to look up at him when he turned his head to look at the host.

Then only Kirilenko was left on the stage, and the writer began his speech unhurriedly, looking directly at the audience.The man's unhurried voice, like chatting casually, brushed his ears, stirring his heart.

During the Q&A session, someone in the audience asked that it was because of Kirilenko's Peter Pan film review that many people also dug up the previous animation movies, which was naturally emotional.And when the writer himself wrote it, there was some opportunity.

Kirilenko bowed his head and thought for a while, then picked up the microphone again,

"Because I met Missbell and she made me fried pork with carrots."

Putin's face was flushed by the darkness of the auditorium, and he suddenly remembered a sentence he had seen somewhere.

When you come, the mountain is full of red makeup, and the time is not old when you leave.

-TBC