That Beautiful Man

Chapter 4

I frowned and suddenly let out a stiff sound.

"Why force it!"

"I will not answer."

"But you don't need to force, your hand has been taken away!"

I shook my face and ran away. Sister Ying finally let me take my hand off my face, but he left without saying goodbye.

"Do you like Booth?"

I turned around, annoyed, but he didn't know.

"Don't answer questions like squirrels."

"Squirrel face," I asked doubtfully, raising my brow instead of answering.

What does a squirrel face look like?

Without asking, Inn knew what I was thinking and poked his finger in my cheek to prevent me from standing up.

"You are making squirrel faces, do you think your cheeks are lovely?"

Dunk. . . I kept dunking, and finally I had to beat the s**t out of my face.

Hehe! I mean, cute, black, gone, just beautiful! By the way, I didn't get my cheeks swollen. My cheek is like this.

I avoided answering because I didn't want to talk to him, but as a result I was poked on his cheek, and I had to turn around and poke him again.

"Oh, that's enough!"

"I want you to answer, do you like Busy?"

Finally, I answered the same question.

"No!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"I really don't like it."

"Yes!"

"If you don't like Bush, why insist? Since you know that he is Brother Code, it is more than nougat."

I pretended to faint and answered with the same serious words.

"Yes!"

"I ask you, if you don't like Busy, why follow him? Just answer the question."

"Yes!"

He was silent and looked at me hard, as if he knew I was fighting a nerve war before he asked me.

"Then I'll ask a few more questions."

"Yes!"

"Don't you like Booth?"

"Yes!"

"Then you like me."

"Yes!"

When the sound came out, I suddenly regained consciousness. I looked into his face, and he jumped, put his hand on his left chest, and made an incredible sound.

"Good heavens..."

You're playing Adonis! You'll get into trouble!

I frowned when Inn was still bullying me.

"Love comes too suddenly."

I really wanted to pat you with my study table, but I just took a deep breath and pretended I didn't care.

But. . . He didn't stop. Seeing that I didn't respond, he leaned himself aside and whispered.

"It would be nice if you didn't like Bush, and if you did I'll tell you to stop thinking about it."

I took a look and there were many questions to ask, but needless to say, I knew what I wanted to ask.

"I can't like Booth because..."

"Because,"

"It's my husband."

Look for it. ,

The sheet fell off my hand, opened my mouth, and pressed it instantly.

Ah. . . Your cloth. . . Lost Adonis again! ,

"I don't want to. Why in the same dormitory?"

Inde said, one more time, I'll improvise.

I will. . . Really, why else should I live in the same dormitory?

"It's nice to live in the same dorm, the same room, the same bed. I think... I'm convenient and undisturbed."

Again, he said, I thought, and in this way his hands trembled at once, and his eyes trembled as hot as Busy had come back. When he saw my red eyes, he asked me in horror.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?"

Your Busba. . . Lost Adonis again.

As I turned away, tears, uh, could not help, immediately streamed down my face, and Busy quickly sat down and stroked my back and shoulders with his hand.

"What's the matter with you? Why are you crying?"

I looked into my brother's face, heartbroken, and sobbed and asked.

"Ah... Brothers Booth..."

"Well,"

"Is it Adonis's husband?"

"Find it,"

The audience's expressions were confused, and I wanted to explain how it happened, but they sobbed until they couldn't say a word, but pointed at Inde, who felt sympathy for what was happening. Only then did I know what was going on, and suddenly a low voice came out.

"Organic... villains."

Yes, yes, you evil Adonis!

"Are you sure you didn't do anything, my key?"

Bush asked this sentence for the tenth time, and Indon, who was pushed several times, frowned.

"You have asked me many times, and you have told me the reason for crying, haven't you?"

He squinted at me, and I wiped away my tears indignantly, while I closed my lips and bowed my head motionless, a little guilty and unable to control my emotions.

Who can control it? Suddenly I heard that people who have loved for so long have crossed the world, hoping to get love in this country, and have been eaten by their enemies, and no one can control them!

But when Bush asked me what happened, I didn't dare to tell the truth, which of course meant that he was Busba in a previous life, and that I was teased by Indor that Bush was his husband. So I lied that I cried because he asked me to take the afternoon test.

This. . . Sounds like an i***t, a damn i***t, a damn flunker, a damn crying tortoise-burning man.

As for the gaffes, if he was Adonis's husband, I said on the pretext that my mind was in a fight because his curse upset me. To be honest, I'm really shy. But let nature take its course, because I don't want Brother Bush to know that I cried because he said he was a husband, and Brother Bush did something natural. Of course, Brother Bush didn't believe it when he heard it, because if he believed it. Why would he ask him so much?

"Are you sure you didn't lie to me or threaten my sister with anything?"

Bush is still struggling, making his roommate sigh.

"If you want to know anything, ask your sister, please."

When the other person showed such a small impatience, Booth turned to look at me, and I looked at him in a faint voice.

"Only the story I told Boothgow, really."

His eyes said no, but I'm afraid it would make me feel bad, so he stopped finding fault.

"Anyway, leave me alone, because I am already such a chatterbox, he has a bad character, and I am already tutoring me through the test."

I didn't scold my friends enough. Finally, I touched my head with my big palm to comfort me. My heart was also very moist. I thought to myself that it would be good to make me cry, because it would make Booth touch my flesh.

Oh. . . Three countries, eight countries, I want them to touch your torso more.

I just thought, to get this far, I must make my brother like me first. As for people who make me cry, they can only look at me and then put their mouths crooked.

"Oh, the first password of your life."

I can't hammer like my brother.

"Shut up, your mouth is not good, you talk a lot, dog mouth."

Yes, being scolded means being scolded. Busji likes it very much.

But Indin made no secret of his a***e, looking reproachfully into Bush's face and pretending to s***k him.

"Why is Busaya not gentle with Indra?"

He was bitten so badly in the neck that he did not dare to call his real name any more, while a smile appeared on his face.

"It hasn't stopped yet."