The voice was cold and he tried his best to suppress the urge to cut the other person into pieces. He watched the man on the other side of the path turn around sluggishly, his eyelashes half blocked by his forehead hair, and the thick mask covered his thin face, revealing only a pair of pupils that occasionally flashed across the blue sky.
The brow bone lowered a little bit, and the man's eyes narrowed into a line, and the light full of hostility was gathered in his eyes.
Narcissus was a little dazed, this expression was very familiar, the door of memory was originally closed and even the gap was rusted, but now it was suddenly broken open by his lonely look.
He didn't dare to take risks with the little person in his arms, not at all.
"Is she yours?" The middle-aged man shook his head,
