Fail Demon King

white palm.It was still spinning restlessly, as if unwilling to be locked in the wine bottle for so long.

Looking at it, Owen couldn't help thinking of the Golden Snitch that was always running around on the Quidditch field.Doubtless Tom must have thought of something similar from it, and Owen saw him pick up the marble with his slender fingers, and then said casually, "It looks kind of silly, doesn't it?"

"...I just think it's rough and doesn't suit your taste." Owen searched hard, and couldn't remember that it was their plaything when they were young. "Is this what you're looking for?"

"Well." Tom smiled with an indescribably complicated look, and he put the marble into his cloak pocket, "No one would have thought that I would put this thing here—for old Cole Said it was a never-ending bottle of gin, but what a pity she couldn't find it when she tried to drink two."

They walked out of the cramped little office together, through the silent, dark corridors and bare courtyard, and Owen looked sideways at Tom: "I suppose this is taking the lead against the Misuse of Muggle Substances Division?"

"Probably," said Tom tactfully, "the pressure helps them work better."

The old janitor was still asleep, and they walked out of the iron gate, and Owen re-locked it very kindly.He saw Tom standing a few steps away from the door, looking up at the square old building, and slowly hitting his pale palm with his wand.Owen walked up to him, shrugged and said, "Better not."

"what?"

"If you're going to take my advice, I'd say it's not a good idea to start a fire here or cause an explosion or anything like that."

"It's too drastic," Tom said half-truthfully, and he gave Owen a fake smile. "It's not my style."

Owen took a deep breath, paused, and tried to reason: "Look, I didn't stop you from attacking Penster at midnight today. After he said so many erratic words, I knew He's going to die - but the Muggles are nothing like him, so this time I don't agree."

Tom snorted and turned away, his black cloak making him seem like a distant ghost.Owen never thought that he could achieve his goal so easily. However, while he was surprised, he was also slightly relieved, and hurriedly stepped forward to follow Tom.The tall man paused for a moment, and when Owen caught up with him, he resumed his usual stride: "Do you regret it?"

"Of course not." Owen immediately realized Tom's meaning, frowned and said, "In any case, you will not allow Pence to live - I think he should be regarded as an outstanding liar, or he is an outstanding actor , perhaps the two are not much different in themselves.”

Thanks to Merlin, Tom looked as if he had really left the orphanage behind, and he sneered: "That's a politician's natural ability, in fact, he performed quite poorly. A certain Minister of Magic Nobilis was It's called 'Active Imperius', so you get the idea—it's not quite done until every word they utter blows your mind."

Owen touched his nose and muttered in a low voice: "Really! I should have known you had a deep understanding of this..."

Tom ignored Owen's grunts and looked as if he didn't hear them.

"I mean—that's what it actually is," Owen continued, shrugging, "we're all good actors. You know, Slytherins and Gryffindors have always been known for their acting skills, so see through There's nothing surprising about him."

"You're overestimating your talents," said Tom, sarcastically, with a sidelong glance at him, "I see through your tricks every time you don't even need one glance--what a fun show, Owen. "

"Yeah, of course I'm no match for Roy Penster," Owen retorted angrily, "so I rarely act to you."

Tom fell silent.After a while, he seemed to be smiling, and suddenly said slowly: "That makes sense. Just because of this, you are many times better than old Penster."

Owen looked at the tall man beside him suspiciously.Living with Tom for a long time, no one can distinguish between sincere praise and sarcasm.But none of that mattered—thanks to Merlin, nothing could have been harsher than Tom's sneer.Of course, there is nothing to complain about, and Irving has long been used to it.He shrugged his shoulders and decided to respond to Tom's last words with the stunt of "Sorry, I didn't hear"-because it was always the seriousness of the mean man that really made him difficult to deal with.

The night gradually turned gray, and Tom and Owen were still walking through the Muggle neighborhood.Owen was originally worried that his different attire from Tom and Muggles would cause suspicion and sideways glances, but to his surprise, most of the people who passed by him occasionally were drunk and stumbled, and even dressed up better than the latest wizards—of course, this is a Complimentary terms—even weirder.

Owen watched with disbelief as some disheveled-haired women in cape pants and tights passed them, giggling flirtatiously at Tom.The manic guitar and drum beat suddenly came from a bar they passed. Owen took a deep breath and suddenly dragged Tom into an alley.

"...let me catch my breath." He leaned against the cold brick wall, tugging on Tom's cloak, and said through gritted teeth.

Tom first glanced at him in surprise, and then quietly stood beside Owen with a chuckle: "I can give you 5 minutes."

It was early morning, but the city never fell asleep.Some loud rock music came vaguely from an indecipherable direction. Owen shook his head, feeling that his nerves had been tortured that night, and a large group of Libyan goblins must be dancing disco on his temples.

A gust of night wind blew, Owen wrapped his cloak tightly, and the cold made him feel better.He glanced at Tom beside him, and suddenly asked, "Now, can you tell me what exactly is that glass marble you found?"

Tom raised his eyebrows, paused, and said lightly: "Yeah, I should have thought that it would be quite difficult for a person with such strong curiosity as you." He glared at Owen, and then The reporter touched his nose and pretended nothing had happened. "Well," Tom continued, seeing the light blue under Owen's eye circles, he frowned slightly and looked away, "Well, I admit, I was going to tell you too. Of course it wasn't just a tattered bullet Bead, that's a—"

Suddenly a shadow swayed in the dark alley, Tom turned his head vigilantly, and Owen also left the brick wall he was leaning against.But they were too suspicious, it was just a wild dog running over the dumpster.

"...It's just that I really can't remember the origin of this marble," Owen said casually, he was still looking around carefully, but apart from the messy music—if that can be called music— Besides, there was silence all around, "Is that the big Man Woston's? I thought you had already thrown away the trophies you collected here."

"I don't know whose it is. I just took one from Old Cole's confiscated contraband," Tom sneered, "I don't think it's a rare treasure."

"So what the hell is that?"

"It's a—" Tom's voice was so low that Owen had to strain his ears to hear it, and the last word really made one wonder if he was just lip-synching, "Horcrux."

Owen was standing on a step with one hand propped up on a brick wall of a building. When he was startled, his left hand slipped and he almost fell from above to the flat ground.He looked back at Tom, pale, and stammered, "Wh-what? You mean—"

"It's true," said Tom calmly, with unnatural eyes and a particularly hoarse voice that didn't match his calm expression, "—I'm not kidding you."

"Of course I know you won't be—joking with me about this kind of thing!" Owen gritted his teeth, and finally he couldn't help but grabbed Tom by the collar—he stood taller. On the steps of the next level, this move was rarely done smoothly.

"But it's not mine."

"Ha!" Owen was almost annoyed by him. "Thanks to Merlin, this is really the only consolation. But I think I can probably guess who it is—Made by Riddle, it is honest and reliable from head to toe."

To be honest, Owen was in a state of confusion, not sure whether to punch the pale face in front of him directly, or to maintain the dignity of a wizard and take out his wand to fight Tom - but no kidding , damn Merlin, he himself knew that neither of these two ideas would be successful—so in the end, Owen could only let go of Tom's cloak with a livid face, and asked through gritted teeth: "Merlin, are you still going to go to the cloak?" How many things are you hiding from me?"

Tom suddenly grabbed Owen's wrist tightly, his face became paler and his eyes were faintly blood red, but he didn't say a word.

Owen looked at him extremely depressed, and asked dryly: "Don't you want to say, there are actually a dozen things like this that you haven't told me yet? I know, it's already your instinct to conceal details and plans ,but--"

"and also."

Owen looked at Tom in astonishment.

"One more thing." Tom said curtly with his eyes downcast. The dark shadows in the alley covered half of his face, making him look unpredictable. "Only one thing."

Looking from the angle of the steps, Owen rarely saw the soft black hair of the tall man. He was speechless in a daze, but he was suddenly pulled forward by Tom.

"I think it's been 5 minutes," said the black cloaked figure walking in front of Owen calmly. "We need to find a place to stay as soon as possible. It's almost dawn--" Tom turned his head, his black eyes stared straight Staring at Owen, "Before that, I just want to keep that secret for one last moment."

Very rarely, Owen saw a look of pleading in Tom's eyes.But he figured he'd better not point it out, lest some proud people would be pissed off.He held Tom's hand instead, and asked coldly, "Where are you going? If nothing goes wrong, all pure-blood family manors that can be named will probably be searched, and there will be no second headquarters."

"That's right—go on."

"Of course I'm going to go on—admit it, Tom, it's you who interrupt|cut in every time I'm not finished." Owen said angrily, "No. 12 Grimmauld Place is very close from here, at Near King's Cross station, but no doubt it's not immune to raids - I can almost hear Walburga yelling at the poor inspectors now, Lucretia's cousin is far inferior to her Gloomy, I remember her being lively when I was younger, screaming as loud as the most potent mandrakes - well, so it's not safe here even in the Muggle block, we do have to hurry Find a place. They're coming soon."

Tom stared at him without blinking.

Owen raised his head in confusion, frowned and asked, "Why don't you speak?"

"—now I can say 'go on'?"

Owen felt a burst of gold stars in front of his eyes—no, no, no, he has long been used to it—he took a deep breath resentfully, and swallowed it again: "... yes."

"Excellent—go on."

"..."

========================

The author has something to say: [The fourth bullet in the manuscript box]

I wish you all a happy reading~~~

╭(╯3╰)╮

87 A new temporary residence

A cloud of dirty fog floated in the night, and a few street lamps stood alone on the street, standing motionless by the side of a narrow road—shrouded in thick gray fog, even the lights were helpless.This is a quiet neighborhood, at four o'clock in the morning, all the windows are dark and there is no life.There are several shops across the road, one of which seems to have a problem with the signboard, with two letters shining from time to time.

During this silence, two people came from the corner of the street.They walked in a hurry, and they were dressed strangely. Long black cloaks covered their whole bodies, only one corner was occasionally blown by the night wind.

They stood in front of an apartment building, and the taller man spoke first, both his pale face and his cold voice were incompatible with this place: "Is this the place you want to stay?"

"Come on, Tom," said the other, "you've thought of it yourself, but you've been loath to bring it up - we can borrow a house from a nice family of Muggle owners, though they don't I don’t know. A family here has gone out.” He flipped through the messy letterbox at the door, “Look at this—from the date, newspapers and letters have been accumulated for almost half a month, and there are postcards from the British Caribbean , I guess they went on vacation."

Tom pursed his lips tightly and looked at Owen with raised eyebrows: "—so?" He narrowed his eyes and whispered to himself, "It doesn't mean we have to live here."

"Looks great," said Owen, deafening slyly. Tom's voice was low anyway, and he pulled the collar of his cloak tighter. "We'd better hurry in. You've got the house number, don't you? I need a hot cup of tea urgently." , and warm up to the fire, the bloody night has been exhausting - I just hope the Muggles don't come back suddenly tomorrow morning."

Tom snorted coldly, and said stiffly: "That depends on their luck."

Owen stole a glance at Tom's unkind side face, and secretly laughed in his heart, but on the surface he still kept his expression as if nothing had happened: "I'm sorry to make you humble, my lord," he said with a teasing emphasis, "But We'd better get in there soon, hell Merlin, I'm about to freeze."

This is not entirely a lie, Owen stretched out his hand to pull Tom, his hand was so cold that Tom paused slightly.The tall man frowned and grabbed Owen's hand, and turned around before him - the dim street lights flickered, and it seemed that a stray cat looking for food in the garbage bin jumped by, and the two The figure standing in the middle of the street had disappeared without a trace.

— Clang!boom!

After a while, Owen cried out in pain: "...Oh! Merlin's sock... I hit the cabinet..."

"Stay still. Wait for me to turn on the light."

A floor lamp was turned on, and the room was enveloped in a soft, dark orange light.This family seemed to be on a long-term trip, and the furniture in the room was covered with a large white cloth, making it look clean and deserted.

Owen curiously studied the fireplace in the living room for a long time, and then solemnly concluded: "If I'm not mistaken, it uses electricity." These messes share many electrical appliances, and he prefers to simply find some firewood to start a fire.

Tom was taking off the cloth cover on the sofa, when he heard this, he strode towards the wall and pushed Owen aside.While plugging in the electricity, he taunted: "Yeah, this is really novel." He pressed the switch, adjusted the temperature up, and even squatted down, and personally unfolded the folds that the family rolled up for tidiness by the fireplace when they left. carpet.

Owen looked at Tom in extreme surprise, with the expression on his face as if he saw a flying troll - of course, due to the requirements of etiquette, he quickly closed his unconsciously opened mouth.Bless me, Merlin, although all this is perfectly normal for a Muggle, it's hard to imagine that series of deft tidying actions came from a wizard, and it's even more amazing when that wizard is the great Dark Lord up.

"They figured out a lot of ways to make life easier for lazy people and fools," Tom sneered mockingly, and glanced at Owen with twisted corners of his mouth. "I'm surprised it still stumps you."

In fact, the life of wizards seems simpler to Muggles-magic is considered to be a panacea that can solve all problems, but Owen does not intend to refute this.He knew he couldn't use magic frequently in a Muggle-infested area, and that too much fluctuating magic power might attract the attention of the Ministry of Magic, so he couldn't rely on wands and spells for unnecessary things - but he did need to get used to it.

He took the black cloak from Tom in a daze, hung it up together with the one he took off, and turned around to see that Tom was arranging the coffee table—Merlin, he still didn't quite believe it was real.Owen shuddered, and murmured: "It's terrible, there must be some profound magic in this room that I don't realize, so that a thought bewitched me..."

"what?"

"I almost thought you'd boil water and make me a pot of tea."

Tom stopped what he was doing, and gave Owen a cold sideways glance. That glance could really freeze hell—as expected, it made sense in this way, and Owen felt that everything was much more normal.He touched his nose in relief, and turned around to shake off the dust on the sofa cover.

Twenty minutes later, a cup of hot tea was placed on the tea table.

The fireplace makes the living room warm, the aroma of milk and tea is mixed, the bone china teacup is steaming, and the floor lamp beside the sofa casts a slanted shadow on the teacup. This is really the warmest home life.

Owen slumped stiffly on the couch, hands clenched in fists on his knees, looking almost bewildered.

Tom sat opposite Owen, and his posture was much calmer.He crossed his long legs and crossed his arms impatiently: "You said you wanted to drink tea."

"Indeed. But that means the same as I usually say 'Merlin bless'..." Owen blinked quickly, "I never thought this would come true."

He couldn't help wondering whether Tom's pocket had been cast with a traceless stretching spell-maybe there was no need to doubt it, it was an indisputable fact that there must be a warehouse and an all-day dining restaurant behind the cloak pocket.Someone pulled out a whole tea set, cutlery, milk, sugar, and even a plate of Cornish pasties, and pushed them away with the haughtiness of "it's so easy to do such a small thing" to Owen.

"Porridge, smoked fish, and bread with marmalade are available for breakfast later, if you want—" said Tom casually. That image was connected, but Owen's face made him frown, "What's your expression?"

"...I'm sorry, but I can't help but speculate," Owen murmured, taking a sip of tea unconsciously, "...are you under the Imperius Curse?"

Tom snorted coldly: "Stupid question."

"...so I said sorry in advance."

"Tea in peace," said Tom, raising his eyebrows lazily, and lifting his own cup deliberately, "for which I shall be very grateful."

The windows were covered with gauze curtains, the night was slowly fading, and the sky gradually turned into a light gray.The sound of some cars passing by gradually drowned out the whistling night wind, but in such a vague din, the soft sofa cushions and hot tea are like a net of devil vines that bind the spirit, and Owen feels that his sanity is a little bit more A little bit was invaded by the warm floor lights.

…The shadow of the teacup fluctuates from short to long, and the delicate patterns on the bone china flicker in and out of sight… A glass marble is placed squarely on the coffee table… Owen’s head suddenly droops——

He wakes up.

A half-cold cup of tea was still placed in front of him, opposite Tom's pale face, flickering in the twilight of dawn and in the shadows of the lamps in the living room.The man folded his arms, and there was a deep line between his brows that looked like a knife cut.Owen touched his nose, he suddenly remembered something, but looking at Tom like this, he hesitated for a long time, and finally did not ask.

But Tom relieved him with a rare empathy: "It's your limit to control your curiosity to this point. I know it's not easy." He crossed his fingers on his knees, his slender index fingers restless It was bouncing, and the low voice echoed in this small living room, making people feel more sleepy, "Well, it's time to tell everything," Tom glanced at the glass beads on the coffee table, and said to Owen said with a pun, "I know, if you don't solve this problem, you can't sleep peacefully."

"You're always chasing after my curiosity," Owen said dryly, and he shrugged resignedly, "I was actually going to give up—you could keep your secret for a while longer, even Never mention it from now on—after all, you also know that I have never been able to do anything to you."

Objectively speaking, this statement is not entirely true.Owen Skoe has a lot of ways to deal with Tom Riddle, and many years of wits and courage have accumulated a considerable amount of experience, but one of the two men is dubious about whether they will really help achieve his goal, while the other in any case would not admit their fruitful results.

Tom almost sneered at Owen's hypocritical remarks, and he pointed to the glass marble: "In short, it is one of the Horcruxes. I didn't split Benjamin's soul too much, because I made it Yeah, I wasn't sure he could take it - so I just split three."

Owen looked at him shrewdly: "What about the other two?"

Tom raised his eyes to look at him, and reached into his pocket--some spell had been cast there--and took out an old iron box.Such an old object was all too familiar to Owen, and for a long time, in the orphanage, they used it to store Tom's collection and all other belongings.

"Here." Tom said inaudibly, and he lifted the corner of the lid. The moment the lid was opened, Owen noticed that there were many things inside, and one of them immediately caught his attention: a small A small, black hardcover diary.However, Tom didn't let Owen look more, he immediately took out two things and placed them side by side with the glass marble.

A woolen sock and an old green woolen mitten—both of which Owen remembered, as his birthday and New Year's presents to Tom, whom he had ridiculed for.

"He knew that the pieces of his soul were with me, yet he never showed any sign of getting them back," Tom said quietly, "but he certainly was looking for them."

"I really don't understand why you want to make a Horcrux for him?" Owen asked with a frown, "Or...is this just your soul experiment?"

"Just to be on the safe side." Tom replied, waving his hand casually, "I once wanted to defeat death—I respect it, but that doesn't prevent me from seeing it as my adversary—it's just that I didn't expect it, and finally laughed out loud at my It's actually time." He gave a short laugh, as if laughing at others as well as himself, "I am sure that there must be something in this world that can escape the control of these two, if not, I will personally Create one. This time nothing will suddenly disappear—"

Owen looked straight at him, and Tom seemed to suddenly realize the gaze from the other side, and he waved his hand again, as if he was very impatient with what he had just said; but those black eyes gleamed under the orange light. For a moment, he turned his face away, pursed his lips as if nothing had happened, and said nothing.

====================

The author has something to say: [The fifth bullet in the manuscript box]

I wish you all a happy reading~~~

╭(╯3╰)╮

88 One thing more worthy of apology

After a while, Owen coughed dryly twice, and finally recovered his voice: "So——you said you are still hiding that thing from me? I can't seem to think of anything else that you can give back to Benjamin while you created Benjamin. It's even worse that he made Horcruxes."

"Actually I don't think it's much better," Tom leaned back, his expression completely hidden behind the light.Outside the window behind him, the sky was gradually graying and white, making him look like a sharp black silhouette. "I think you might be angry, Owen," he laughed quickly again, one hand subconsciously Pushing back the black hair that fell over his forehead, "Frankly, this is not very pleasant: I made Benjamin out of your dead body - I mean Billy Stubbs - in other words In other words, he was formed because I used your bones."

Owen looked at him in amazement: "—Excuse me?"

"—I dug your grave," Tom said, leaning forward slightly, watching Owen's expression carefully, "don't make me repeat this a third time—I mean, at last Well...or 'don't make me repeat it a third time, if you want'. Of course I'm not—you know, it's not a thing to completely create a new life—"

"I know." Owen was still in a state of astonishment, but he interrupted Tom without hesitation—for some reason, the feeling of the man's difficulty in phrasing made him feel flustered—but this is Tom. Riddle, this man can't speak normally without being mean and taunting, "You mean, you dug up my grave, dug up the bones of Billy Stubbs, and made Benjamin out of it?"

Tom frowned and looked Owen's expression up and down, and he leaned forward again.Owen still looked shocked, and at the same time subconsciously leaned back——In the gray sky, Tom's face turned livid in an instant. If possible, he would definitely wave his wand and let "Owen Scott fly over" , but he did not.

Tom moved his pale fingers restlessly, and continued to speak quickly: "I admit that this matter is me—but I have tried many methods, searched many ancient magic books, and there is no better way to—" He paused again, and at the same time his face became more and more ugly.

It was horrible, and Owen felt it was time to save the disaster—even though he was still baffled by it.But as he cleared his throat and opened his mouth, Tom said something quickly and lowly:

"—in fact I don't think it's any worse than the first two."

"—I'm... very sorry for that."

There must be a fire dragon flying with the troll in the sky... No, no, you can't say that, fire dragons can fly.

Owen felt that for a moment his speech function must have been disordered, so that he could not even feel his tongue when he spoke. He seemed a little confused, but vaguely understood something: "I'm sorry-I mean, Tom, what did you just say?"

The man on the opposite side stood up and walked towards Owen. He was really tall and thin, and his black figure against the backlight looked like a sharp knife splitting the white gauze curtain: "I said," he said in a word, "I feel I'm very sorry." After a pause, he added, "If you didn't hear clearly, I can repeat it one last time."

"..."

"What's that look on your face?" Tom frowned tightly. "Are you—laughing?"

"You think this matter is very important—I mean, you even made Horcruxes justifiable, but you feel sorry for this matter?"

"I think the only thing that deserves my apology is creating Benjamin and that, which is a lot more than that," Tom said briefly. I did. I quickly realized he wasn't your resurrection, so I was—"

Owen couldn't bear it anymore, he smiled and said intermittently: "May...Merlin, this Muggle house will become a historical monument one day, I actually...I actually heard it here Tom Marvolo Riddle's apologies! By your noble middle name, you don't have to feel sorry because it really wasn't a big deal...”

He stood up suddenly, and gave Tom who was standing stiffly in front of him a tight hug—the almighty Merlin, he never thought that one day he would have such feelings for a person, Merlin, this is simply shocking Terrified - but nothing to complain about, he quickly let go of the pale, uglier-than-a-ghost man, and Tom pursed his lips, still looking at him suspiciously.

Owen slightly raised his head to look at Tom, his deep black eyes were flickering, and his pursed, thin lips were completely bloodless. Such a look was extremely rare on the face of this conceited and proud man, and it was almost unbearable.Owen took another step forward, and now he could almost feel Tom's breath: "So—you dug the grave?"

Tom didn't move, he hesitated: "Yeah."

Owen sighed: "I must have been pretty ugly back then." He was speaking casually, and suddenly stretched out his hand to press down on Tom's head and neck, and pressed a quick but deep kiss on the corner of the cold lips, and then acted nonchalantly back away.

Tom froze for a moment, he subconsciously wanted to turn Owen's face back, but he was in vain.Very rarely, he had a confused and complicated look on his face.Tom licked the corner of his mouth, obviously he was very dissatisfied with Owen's too short kiss, so soon, the inherent viciousness prevailed again: "Not only that, but it also smells bad."

Owen touched his nose regretfully, thinking that it would be more cost-effective for him to be more nervous just now, but it was too late to regret.He looked at the teacup on the coffee table and shrugged at Tom: "Tea?"

"Thank you. You will find the water in the kitchen." Tom raised his jaw and said, "Turn the electrical switch counterclockwise," he smiled, "I believe you will succeed."

The sky is getting brighter, the sun is rising, the rain in the middle of the night has washed the blue sky, the long-lost sunlight penetrates the gray fog of London, and shines in through the gauze curtain of the room.Owen sighed, turned his head and walked towards the kitchen.Tom stood on the edge of the sofa with his hands behind his back and looked at his back—if anyone from the second wizarding world stood here, he would be terrified by the expression of the Dark Lord: the soft shimmer of light shone on the black hair, a A layer of faint golden red plated the cheeks that were always pale like a vampire, and that handsome but often frightening face looked strangely calm and soft at the moment.

To eat well in the UK, eat three breakfasts.But under the present circumstances, it was enough to have a good breakfast, and it was quite rich, and thanks to Merlin, it was by no means worse than anything Owen had eaten anywhere else.

"It's me you should be thanking," after cleaning up their cutlery, Tom glanced at Owen who was standing beside him drying the water stains on the plates, "not some Merlin who never heard your prayers."

"Of course, it couldn't be more correct. I sincerely thank you...Damn it, what does Merlin have to do with me?" Owen blinked sleepily slowly, grabbing the plate that almost slipped from his hand.

Tom snatched the plate from Owen's hand: "Don't be perfunctory. Go to sleep."

"I know you have a treasure store in your pocket, so I can only express my gratitude to you by brushing the dishes."

"You have other ways to express your gratitude," Tom's eyes paused meaningfully on Owen's lips for a moment, but the unconscious man yawned just right, so Tom just turned his head and snorted, "But I'm not in a hurry, you owe me more than one and a half stars