prince and his shield

While Steve was moving things into the house, Crowley was touring the house up and down, touching here and there and prodding as he went.

But his subordinates didn't make unnecessary little moves, and Steve could see clearly.

"What's the point of you moving?" Crowley sat on the sofa with his legs crossed after shopping around. "Everything is exactly the same."

"Does it have something to do with you?" Royston wandered around the room with Lu Luo in his arms.

Put it on the coffee table, move it, turn it around, and carry it away.

Put it on the dining table, move it, turn it around, and take it away again.

Steve looked back and forth, following his movements, hesitating to speak.

Raphael was not as familiar as Crowley. He sat on the sofa very stiffly, and from time to time he peeked at Royston with small eyes, which were shining brightly.

The guest is not like a serious guest, and the host is not like a serious host.

"You suddenly came to see me for something?" Royston finally found a suitable place to place the green radish.

on top of the refrigerator.

Steve... gotta take it down later.

"I came here to see how you're doing." Crowley shook his foot, and the snakeskin boots made strange little movements.

"We're here for a trip." Raphael followed suit, and Crowley finished speaking almost at the same time.

Royston let out a sigh, understanding.

Crowley pulled the corner of his mouth aside and glanced at Raphael.

Raphael nervously averted his gaze: "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Crowley slowly looked away: "No. It's okay."

More than 6000 years, bear with it.

"Are you two traveling on holiday or really eloping?" Royston looked at them and asked suddenly.

"Fuck off." Crowley flicked his tongue gracefully, with a hiss or two.

Royston walked to the sofa and sat down, folded his legs and put his hands on his knees: "You seem to like me very much, Raphael."

The posture is dignified and dignified, and the voice is gentle and polite.

Raphael lowered his chin shyly: "Your Excellency's charm is very impressive...touched [Note: Touched]."

After finishing speaking, he was happy that he had found the right word, and looked at Crowley with a sense of appreciation.

Crowley pursed his lips and smiled back at him, the corners of his mouth twitching as he turned his head away.

Royston smiled and hummed, with a slight pleasure of being praised.

Such positive feedback obviously made Rafael very happy.

Crowley narrowed his eyes slightly.

Royston bent forward, put his hands on his chin, and moved closer to Raphael, just waiting to speak.

Unable to see it any longer, Steve quickly made a cup of instant milk tea and brought it to Raphael, barely in time to block Royston: "Sir, please drink tea!"

Royston was interrupted to perform at the end of his energy, looking at the thick back that blocked him tightly, he frowned.

"Oh, thank you!" Raphael was flattered, and took the cup with both hands, happily.

Steve felt very guilty for a moment because of his sincerity.

Crowley forced a small laugh from his throat, and his shoulders twitched.

He scratched his nose and tilted his head: "Is there any Coke?"

"No." Royston leaned back on the sofa boredly.

"Yes." Steve turned to the kitchen to get an iced Coke.

Royston...

Can Coke be given to others to drink?ah?That's a collection!It is private property!

As if he couldn't feel Royston's knife-like eyes, Steve poured Crowley a big glass.

It seems like you can't drink too much Coke.

It's okay to give this guy more water.

The hair on the back of Raphael's neck stood up, and he always felt that there was a hint of malice leaking somewhere.

He glanced at Steve and touched his face suspiciously.I don't understand, so I continued to drink milk tea.

Crowley took a large glass of Coke with one hand: "Thank you."

Royston squinted: "White, I want Coke too."

"Mr. Bowen, I am your driver, not your butler." Steve emphasized.

Royston... Oh, do you remember now?

"You shouldn't have the slightest sense of existence." Royston looked at him sideways, "Huh?"

Steve didn't say anything, just looked at him.

Royston shook his head slightly, murmured something unbelivable, and poured the Coke himself.

Crowley gulped down the Coke and let out a long, pleasant belch.

Raphael glanced at him dissatisfiedly: "Be more elegant."

Crowley raised his glass: "o—k—"

Keep on drinking Coke.

Raphael was helpless.

Steve, with his back turned to him, didn't notice that the Coke was being refilled from empty to full.

The Coke bottle in his hand suddenly lost more than half, and Royston shouted: "Crowley!"

Crowley smirked at the turned Steve, winked at the kitchen, twirled his fingers around his temples, and continued drinking his Coke.

Steve just smiled.

Royston came out with a dark face: "Eat and drink, shameless."

Raphael froze, and silently put down the cup in his hand, feeling aggrieved.

Royston... "Not about you, Angel."

Raphael was relieved and smiled like a child.

Crowley grinned.

Royston silently swallowed back a mouthful of blood.

Steve...angel?

To an elderly English gentleman, why not stop?

He went around to the kitchen and laid out all the snacks that had been stuffed in the freezer before.

Royston stared at the covered coffee table and looked up: "Where did you get it?"

"Fridge." Steve replied calmly.

"What?!" He didn't believe it. After taking a shower yesterday, he turned the refrigerator upside down and didn't find a package of food.

He went to open the refrigerator door, no.

Open it again, still nothing.

Royston slammed the refrigerator door, sat back on the sofa, crossed his legs, and squinted at Steve.

"It's really in the refrigerator." Steve said honestly.

It's just in the wine cabinet of the refrigerator.

At first glance, it is a place that cannot be turned over, just like the drawers in the steps.

"Any normal food? Your taste is beyond flattering." Crowley picked up a Cheetos.

Raphael took a sip one by one and put it down, holding the cup and sitting very obediently.

"No, I only have junk food here. You can go." Royston laughed twice, and didn't say any more.

Stand up and clap your hands, "White, see off—"

The voice was extremely light.

Raphael let out an ah, stood up, and smiled sincerely: "I had a great time. Thank you very much."

He patted his clothes and looked at Crowley.

Crowley opened his mouth slightly, the shape of his mouth was about to say 'wh', looking at Raphael's bewildered face, he swallowed it back.

He took in a breath, exhaled it, and stood up: "——ok."

"What a wonderful time," Crowley smacked his lips, put on his sunglasses, picked up the cup in front of him, and drank it all down.

Burp comfortably.

"Bye—" he swaggered away with Raphael.

"Goodbye." Raphael waved to them, and closed the door thoughtfully when he left.

"Your friends seem to be okay." Steve couldn't find a trace of incongruity, except for his personality...very distinctive.

When he turned his head, Royston was already standing in front of the door on the second floor.

Steve...does he use flying?Why is there no sound at all?

"Damn Crowley, he fucked up all my cokes!" Royston rushed out after returning to the room, with a hideous face.

"It's just a cup," Steve said helplessly, "you are the master anyway."

Royston was furious when he saw him: "You, it's all you!"

"Get out - get out - get out -"

"boom--"

Steve looked at the door that patted his nose, and raised his hand to touch his forehead.

Maybe I really didn't do very well today.And, I don't know why, I don't regret it yet.

cough.

He tugged at the doorknob, made sure Royston remembered to lock the door, and turned to leave.

After walking a few steps, he groaned and turned his head helplessly.

"Mr. Bowen," Steve knocked on the door, "I forgot my key."

After a while, there was a sound of flipping in the room.

"On the coffee table, maybe." Steve put his hand on the door frame and couldn't help it.

The flipping sound stopped abruptly, and Steve covered his mouth with his hands.

Royston slammed the door open, and Steve quickly suppressed the smile on his face and stood up straight: "Sorry, I forgot."

"You seem to know me well. So rampant—" Royston laughed angrily.

"No, it's just... I put it myself." Steve said honestly.

Royston hit him in the face with a chain of keys: "Fuck off—"

Steve covered his face with his hands, caught the key, tossed it, looked at the re-slammed door, the corners of his lips curled up.

When he got home, Steve hummed softly and greeted the female neighbor who was just off work with a smile.

The female neighbor looked at him with a complicated expression.

Steve...huh?

The female neighbor took out her mobile phone and waved at him.

Steve walks over.

"This, is it you?" The female neighbor turned out a photo and handed it to him.

"What?" Steve looked at the photo full of heads, not knowing why.

The female neighbor clicked her tongue, swiped her fingers, and the photo was enlarged several times: "This!"

Steve recognized it for a moment.

...It really is him.

Among the many heads, his face was already highly mosaic, and his figure and the movements of his thumb could barely be seen.

"Um, yes." Steve looked at the female neighbor, puzzled, "Why do you..."

"So, were you present the whole time today? Standing in this direction?" The female neighbor looked at him rigorously like a police detective solving a case.

"Yes," Steve frowned, "well, if it's about Mr. Bowen, I just happen to work there."

The female neighbor stared at his face, weighing something, watching Steve's back.

She suddenly turned cold: "I wish you happiness—"

Then open the door, knock on the door, all in one go.

The whole time, Steve didn't understand what was going on.

But the next day's entertainment newspaper made clear arrangements for him.