City of Burning Snow

When Dostoevsky woke up, the shadow of the window fell on the snow-colored quilt.A tiny sparrow stood between the shadows. At first he thought it was the spiritual body of Nikolai Gogol again.

The man's spirit had changed appearances, but always in the form of a bird. He looked at the sparrow, and the sparrow looked at him.The sparrow's fat, round belly is fluffy and sticks to the edge of the glass window, and its short beak pecks at the frost on the glass window. The sound of thud-dump-dump is too real, and ordinary spiritual bodies don't have this sense of substance... This bird A critter is just a critter, he thought, then realized that he was looking for Gogol himself.

Squinting his eyes slightly, he followed the outline of the window and slowly observed the room he was in. The magnificent Baroque ceiling was decorated, and the walls were painted in light sky blue.His wound was itchy. He wanted to scratch it, but his fingers were blocked by thick medical cotton. His fingers fell and touched the objects around him. He lowered his head and saw a vacant space beside him. On the side, a bouquet of sunflowers is leaning on the fluffy soft pillow.

He looked at the bouquet of flowers, and the flowers looked at him quietly.

It was as if a bubble had popped from the bottom of my heart, and suddenly it stirred quietly for a moment.Then, he realized, it was him trying to laugh.

Ordinary people would not put bouquets of flowers on the pillow of a living person without any scruples. Such an arrangement would be misunderstood as a memorial service... By the way, that's it.

He survived.

His consciousness was heavy, and at the same time wrapped in a certain temperature.

The clear warmth like a sunflower lightly surrounds his thoughts. This should be the will of the sentinel Gogol himself. Dostoevsky sat up and felt that the person with this will was outside the door.

He has long been used to being alone, and suddenly he is completely connected with another person. This sense of security makes him feel some vague emotions.He thought of the sound of the organ playing in the church, and the soft bedding slipped down onto his legs. He took a glass of water from the bedside table and smelled it. It should not be poisonous. After taking two sips, he saw Gogol. Xiao Yingying came from outside the door.

His sentry sat down beside him, the mattress bouncing softly.Gogol kissed him lightly on the lips.

"You're awake!"

Dostoevsky was a little dazed by this series of situations, he didn't react, the water glass was still held in his right hand, and a thin layer of feathers had already fallen on his heart.

The other party kissed his lips naturally, and the pale gold eyelashes tickled the bridge of his nose.He was tickled by this shallow, superficial kiss.

"I... how long have I been asleep?"

"Four days and three hours!"

Gogol looked at him.

While he was busy salvaging memories, he straightened the collar of his turned-up pajamas.Gogol took a closer look at the bandages on his cheeks, in his hair, around his neck and around his waist.He still wanted to lift the quilt, Dostoevsky pressed his wrist, his body just waking up was still nostalgic for the comfortable temperature in the quilt, and because of this, he remembered the soft and fragile floating feeling just now. The mood is out of what.

He leaned close to the other's lips, bit the other's breath, and as if to confirm something, Dostoevsky searched for the peck that he didn't understand well.

"Did we combine successfully?"

Breathing on the opponent's face, he felt that the spirit of the sentinel was a little tired from taking care of him day and night these days.

"It worked...Fei Jia, you succeeded."

Gogol kisses breath into his.

Dostoevsky let go of the tentacle of thinking, allowing the two men's spiritual bodies to be comfortably connected together.He felt that when he was doing this, his back was a little stiff, and his body seemed to be afraid of being in close contact with the sentry again.Gogol felt it too.He looked at him, and when he tilted his head to kiss, he carefully observed Dostoevsky's reaction. The guide's body froze, but he didn't care.He thought of the little creature outside the window that also tilted its head like this.So before Gogol took off his coat and got into the wide soft bed, he tilted his head and glanced at the small animals outside the window.

"Nikolai, are all birds so timid?"

As he was speaking, the sparrow tilted his head and knocked on the glass window, and a large piece of snow suddenly fell from the top of his head.Chirping and screaming, the little guy got out and flew away quickly. Dostoevsky adjusted his body's stress response. When he noticed something, he chuckled softly.

"Now you're jealous of a bird again."

"...Don't tell me if you see through it!" Gogol laughed and got into his quilt, covered his head with the thick quilt, bent down, and wrapped the guide in his arms, "You let me What should I do in the future—you know that I am very face-saving..."

They carefully sealed off the frozen area in their hearts that they knew well.Without mentioning the previous catastrophe, Gogol kissed Dostoevsky's lips again, as if he was already used to this kind of relationship.

He lowered his head and kissed the delicate skin on the side of Dostoevsky's ear.This caused Dostoyevsky to let out a small, cat-like grunt.It seemed to try to make Dostoevsky forget the painful experience before, and the spiritual system exchanged a very happy light.Dostoyevsky begins to feel that the bandages on his face are too much of a hindrance, but Gogol won't let him tear them off.

"It's not clear yet!"

"It's getting better."

"Huhu...I change my medicine every day, how can I not know."

"Isn't your healing ability very strong? It has been four days, and it must be better now."

The two whispered on the bed.Gogol's voice faltered for a moment because of guilt.

"That won't do either. It's just at the end of the healing process, and if you get scratched... if scratched, you'll probably have a scar."

When Gogol felt guilt, Dostoevsky felt it too.

The sentry's kiss fell back again, as if deliberately avoiding some kind of accountability. Dostoevsky thought for a while, then suddenly raised his hand and tore off half of the bandage.

"Feja!"

"Let the scar stay, Nikolai?"

The room was so quiet that only the sound of breathing could be heard.

Dostoevsky's voice was calm.He looked into his eyes, and the curtain was as gentle as falling snow.There was a faint crackling sound as the frost outside the window melted.Then the voice gradually came back.

"I think it's better to leave it on the surface than to have an invisible scar."

"...I know, that won't work either."

Gogol buried his head in the other's neck.

Like a leopard, he softly rubbed against Dostoevsky's neck a few times.

"No, no, no, no, no—I will remove all the scars. You will become super—super perfect, handsome and beautiful like a sculpture again!" As if wanting to break the heaviness that just surfaced, he laughed, "Absolutely not Turn you into alabaster."

"...Ugh. Is this really comforting, Nikolai?"

"Want to become an alabaster?"

"If you are so glib, I'll look for a marble in this house that can fit into your mouth."

Dostoevsky gave up and allowed the tape to be put back on his cheek.

His skin was itchy, and his emotions were also itching faintly.While Gogol was checking the bandages, he raised his hand and slowly unraveled the other party's braids section by section.

Different from the noisy atmosphere on the surface, at this moment he could feel a small part of the spiritual power in the sentry's heart, which was quietly retreating to the corner.But he couldn't comfort him.He pretended not to know.The last person in the world to comfort Nikolai Gogol right now is Dostoevsky himself, because it would hurt the other person.

After the combination, they have their own independent spiritual space, and there is also an open area connecting the two spaces. In order not to worry him, Gogol has tried his best to keep himself in the common part.Now, Gogol's hidden guilt is like using all his acting skills to maintain the surface of happiness.This made Dostoevsky sigh.

He had expected this to happen.

But I didn't expect it to be so difficult.

"Nikolai, I feel that some part of your spiritual power is missing." Before Gogol hid in the independent space, he easily entangled Gogol's spiritual system back.The bottom itself is connected, so it doesn't take much trouble to do so. "You have now become an ordinary sentinel physique, and that part of your ability is taken away by 'punishment', right?"

Gogol's eyes wandered.

"Ah...ha, you know what! Suddenly calling her full name reminds me of my mother."

"I'm talking about business."

"It's more like this!"

Gogol pursed his lips, and gently kissed the other party's more serious brows.

"Okay—it can't be helped! What's the matter? I'm an ordinary sentinel now. Do you want a divorce? Fedya? Don't you think I'm more romantic?"

Dostoyevsky was defeated by the Ukrainians' persistent smile attack.His blaming was like shooting an arrow into the cotton, and it had no effect at all. Hearing that he was denying his question in his heart, Gogol's ingratiating smile automatically expanded to become more pure and superficial.This made Dostoevsky, who was used to playing tricks on people, feel dissatisfied. Now he will lose even the chance to punish the opponent.

"Okay, let's not do that."

"Ugh!?"

"What are you doing, I was also a seriously injured patient."

"Isn't your injury all healed up...well," Gogol said with a self-contradictory shut-up, "just one kiss, let me kiss you again..."

Gogol and his own thinking tentacles are more honest, and they are still reluctantly connecting the circuits with each other, but Dostoyevsky said that that is not enough, and he will reduce this circuit connection to the lowest level.The guide pushed the man's face away, and he sat up, pretending not to see the obvious disappointment on the other side's face.He glanced at the ground and was about to say something when Gogol flew off him with a grunt.

In the next second, a pair of velvet slippers dotted with gems of various colors inexplicably appeared in front of his eyes.

"...I..." Dostoevsky gasped, but Gogol interrupted him again.

The answer was as accurate as an automatic clock chiming.

"It's 10:30 now! Morning! Hungry? I made a lot of bread for breakfast and haven't finished it yet—why? What if you wake up and want something to eat! You always make too much by accident—" "

"……That……"

"I want to ask how you survived these few days? The medicines for the infusion are still in the closet! But I think that since I woke up, it's better to eat some real food, so I'll bring it here for you—ah, no need? go?"

"……Um."

The senior guide who has read countless minds and no one can guess it, silently put on slippers for himself.

As soon as Gogol seems to temporarily put his troublesome guilt behind him, he begins to derive a sense of fulfillment from reading shared minds.Dostoevsky endured it, after all, Gogol made the dark circles under his eyes when he was asleep anyway.

Following Gogol through the overly complex corridors of the mansion, Dostoevsky groped for his lips.If he had known this, he would have stopped kissing.He should study and study the combined control systems in advance... Then he smiled slightly, because Gogol took him to the kitchen, where there were twenty or thirty strange-looking handmade breads piled up in the kitchen, and the corners and ceiling were suspicious. burn marks.Two blasted ovens piled up pitifully in the corner, for some reason only Gogol can think of, covered with brocade cloth, placed two apricots, a date, and a bunch of dried flowers stuck in the crack Son.

tbc.