Secrets of the strong half of humanity. I want to deal with my character. I'm a terrible owner

30.04.2019

The captain of the basketball team Kirisaki Daichi did not leave a poor unfortunate classmate who approached the girl with a question about writing an essay. Grabbing the guy by the collar of his white shirt, Hanamiya mercilessly pressed him against the iron cabinets, so much so that a noticeable dent formed on one of them.

What. You. I wanted to. Do. With Aiko? - using parceling in his voice, said Hanamiya.

Not ... nothing ... I swear, - the guy croaked with difficulty, trying to free himself from the steel grip of the Spider.

Makoto, please don't! Stop! - Shouted the girl, running up, - He just asked me for help!

Fuck it, Aiko! - the basketball player casually threw in the direction of Sakamoto, - I'll talk to you later!

The girl involuntarily recoiled from the guy, really worrying about the safety of her body. And nerves.

What's going on here?! - at the end of the corridor came the thunderous voice of the headmaster.

The gathered onlookers instantly parted, letting the man pass about forty-five years ahead.

Yamato Kensuki, Aiko Sakamoto ... Makoto Hanamiya? What happened here? I demand an explanation!

Hanamiya, removing his fingers from Yamato's neck, quickly approached Aiko, covering him.

Sorry, Director Kokuzawa. This ... guy was molesting my girlfriend. I could not endure this and stood up for my beloved, - having said the last phrase, the basketball player took the girl's hand in his.

Well, Hanamiya. This, of course, is a noble deed, - concluded the director, straightening the glasses that have moved down on the bridge of the nose, - But it was possible to intercede for your chosen one a little quieter. Kensuki, what do you say in your defense?

At first, Yamato tried to tell the truth, but, catching the incinerating gaze of the Uncrowned King on himself, he bit his tongue out of harm's way.

After that incident in school corridor, Aiko never met Makoto all day. Generally. It didn't look like a guy at all. Usually he is next to her, either holding her hand, or keeping in sight.

Aiko was well aware of what would happen when they met. A battle will take place again, in which Hanamiya will again emerge victorious. And again, the girl will cover up the suction and bites with a toner all over the body. Again...

What are you thinking about? - suddenly a voice rang out over the ear, - I hope that you are waiting for me, and not that freak in sneakers?

The basketball player approached the girl so silently that he made Sakamoto jump in surprise.

Hanamiya-kun ... You scared me.

I like to intimidate people, you know, - the guy grinned in response, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his trousers, - Well, where will we go: to you or to me?

If you want to drink tea with cookies, then come to me, - the Japanese woman answered quietly, blushing, - But if you don't want ...

Makoto didn't answer. He just grabbed the girl by the wrist and pulled her around the corner.
- Where are we going? Aiko asked, dutifully following her boyfriend.

To the store for a bar of chocolate, ”he finally said.

The couple went down the street, rounded a small square and, turning left, found themselves right in front of a small grocery store. Makoto released Aiko's hand and ordered him to stand in one place with a nod of his head.

I have chocolate at home, - Sakamoto said quietly, lowering her head, - Dark as you like. And there are cookies. And even chocolate biscuits ...

Fool, who said we were going to your house, huh? And I need chocolate in order to smear it with my tongue on your body in the process of your punishment, - Hanamiya smiled vulgarly, - I quickly: there and back ...

T oh, that a man is an owner, everyone knows. Having inadvertently fallen in love, he is not going to share the object of his desires with anyone. The very thought of the possibility of such a division enrages him. There are four types of male owners:

owner:
conceited;
conceited owner with a minus sign,
conceited owner with a plus sign.

Take a closer look at your chosen one. Your friend probably embodies the features of all the named types, but only one of them gravitates your heart more than others. The task of a woman is to use the capabilities of the strategy to clearly determine which one to rely on in the first place, otherwise, as a result, you may be required to behave completely unusual for you.

You will have to decide to change yourself or change your friend, since men do not leave any other alternative. Make a choice based on your natural properties, the comfort of the soul (although it is believed that women can adapt). It is possible to go beyond your "I", but not much, so as not to be left alone or to devote your whole life to a compromise.

Man-owner

Psychologists believe that the character of the owner develops into early childhood... The owners are the sons of emotionally not very balanced women. Throughout their childhood, they alternately felt either love or dislike on the part of their mother - everything depended on her mood, and it, in turn, depended on the situation in her personal life.
Owners are made by men and unsuccessful romances in their youth, when betrayal and breakup of relationships occur at the initiative of a woman. Vanity is also not alien to the owner, but it must be satisfied with caution. The maximum that such a fan can withstand is five minutes of innocent flirting.
The owner is more guided by his own tastes than by the opinion of the crowd. Surrounded by love, he is sensitive and attentive, but is able to escape if he feels cold.
A hasty marriage to him is dangerous if he proposes without getting to know you properly. Perhaps this is the desire for a safe haven, in which he will then get bored.

The vain man

They are, as a rule, more insecure about themselves than the owners. If a man gets to know you at a time when you are surrounded by admirers and admirers, then, most likely, this is a worthy representative of the vain class. They beat off the woman from others and provoke to beat them off.
But despite this, it is in this group that there are the most charming and interesting men... Generosity, wit, unpredictability, adventurism - everything is brought to perfection. For them, a relationship with a woman is addicting game, and he prefers to stay with a woman as long as he is sure that she has no equal, or rather, as long as his environment is sure of this.
These men make high demands not only on their girlfriends, but also on everything else that surrounds them. The woman of such a man must again and again confirm her dignity in the male circle; but he does not forgive betrayals and hints of betrayal. Possessiveness is in his blood, even if vanity obscures him.

A conceited owner with a sign -

Men try to balance both principles in themselves - both vanity and a sense of possessiveness. Not everyone succeeds in this, but there is movement in this direction, especially in mature age... The results are such that such a man has harmony in his soul if he has an amazing woman who causes the envy of all men, but at the same time she is absolutely indifferent to everyone except him. The fact that such a combination is impossible does not bother him. He simply does not think that a woman who is indifferent to men will never be successful with them.
Men of this type have only one advantage: they almost always faithful husbands... Women who can withstand them are rare. Men are vaguely aware of this and, as a rule, "stick" tightly - and they themselves are a rare phenomenon. At the first stages of acquaintance, they imitate an honest owner or an honest conceited person.

A conceited owner with a + sign

There is and perfect option- a man who combines the owner and the vain with their virtues, but without extremes.
In the woman he loves, he values her personal qualities, and he will not curtail his assessments with the opinions of friends, acquaintances and the first they meet. The interest and sympathy for his girlfriend of other men is pleasant to him, and he will not arrange scenes because of this. He brings an element of play into the relationship, knows how this game will end. Adventurism, lightness, unpredictability in him - from the vain. Sensitivity, tenderness, respect for a friend - from the owner.
The best part is that you can be natural with him, no effort is needed to please all people in a row, if you are not someone's taste, this does not mean that no one needs you. With him there is no need to whisper tenderly in his ear all the time about his fiery feelings - these extremes are not for him.
They say about such people - these are the heroes of the novels of all women, only where these amazing specimens live has not yet been studied by science.

The fact that the majority of Men are proprietors is known to everyone! It can be easily identified by the presence of jealousy and vanity, and sometimes lack of common sense.

Subconsciously, such a man wants his chosen one to cause violent delight in people. In a word, it is not enough for him to have a treasure, he must be afraid of losing it.

Therefore, he attracts a kind of various provocative circumstances in order to prove to himself that his chosen one is the best, together with him, of course. In the absence of real betrayal Man-owner suggests their theoretical possibility and communication, for example, with an old school friend or friend can end sadly.

I do not argue that many Women like Men-owners, although they do not admit it! But this is already a matter of choice and subconscious desires of the Woman herself. There's no one to blame! We choose those Men who subconsciously reflect ourselves and teach us to take care, first of all, towards ourselves and our partner. The lack of freedom already in itself means the absence of love both for oneself and for the chosen one or chosen one.

Let me remind you - to get in the face of a Man true love, understanding and freedom - one must learn to cultivate these feelings in oneself and learn to be free and responsible!

In order to understand the Man-owner, you need to know the real reasons for this behavior. As a rule, the character and qualities of a person, and Men in particular, are formed by childhood itself.

Men who are owners are usually the sons of emotionally unstable Women. Often these are children from single-parent families and the mother's attitude towards them changed depending on the situation in her personal life.

Bad romances in adolescence also give rise to this type of Men, especially when infidelity and breakup occurred at the initiative of a Woman.

- Male owner- this is a Man who had a hard time going through a chill loved one, and most of all he is afraid of repetition of the past.

So if you are really interested in Man-owner it is necessary to influence him with care and tenderness - the methods will have amazing results. In no case should you call his attention with jealousy!

I must say that such a Man, as an owner, has a lot of merits. He always has his own opinion and he will be able to find treasure where no one else would have seen. And he is not mistaken! Surrounded by love, he is empathetic and considerate, but a hasty marriage with him is dangerous!

John rolled his eyes and pushed the pillow away from his face slightly as he continued to put the dishes in the sink. The boy tried to reach out to his boyfriend for about an hour, but, spitting on Sherlock that he decided to go further into his Halls, he turned all his anger on the wrong time neighbor. David accused him of all sins, starting with the fact that John removes them with Sherlock joint photographs or deliberately take the trinkets that David Holmes Jr. gives away from sight. It all ended with the fact that on the pillow brought here by the boy, John allegedly spilled tea and, of course, on purpose. Watson braced himself, solemnly promising that he would not shout and swear with the young upstart, but the doctor's nerves were still not iron.

Oh, stop it! - shouted John, soaping a sponge. - You would think that I only live by annoying you. Tea was specially spilled on the pillow, although, you know, I have a mouth, and I prefer that the tea falls clearly into my mouth, then I left this ugly pillow on my chair with a stain from tea and did not even bother to remove all traces of dullness. Although you know, I figured out here, you would have got to the bottom of another smell!

David sucked in air through his teeth and folded his arms across his chest, dropping the pillow to the floor. Sherlock fidgeted in his chair, apparently forced to leave the Halls. Watson shook his head and began to wash the cups without even looking up.

The doctor slammed the mug into the sink, and, furiously spitting from the foam that flew from the sponge, when Watson threw it on the tile with irritation, the man turned off the water. Looking at David with a hateful glance, John frowned, noting to himself that his shirt was soaked and would have to be changed.

Throw it away, ”the detective said calmly and folded his hands into a house. - I never liked her.

The boy pursed his lips and looked sternly at own boyfriend, then at the smiling doctor, and slapped his forehead with his palm, John could hardly restrain himself from asking to be stronger. Sherlock watched the boy with genuine interest, as if he were one of his experiments.

I knew it! - the boy and the donkey exclaimed contritely, covering his eyes with his hand. - You love him. God, Sherlock! I'm just giving you to make this jerk in a sweater jealous! But I really love you!

John covered his mouth and clenched his hands into fists. First, he's not gay. Second, why would Sherlock try to win him over? Just an unheard-of and stupid statement. And third, how can this gummy idiot insult a former soldier so easily!

Sherlock started clapping hard beautiful eyes With fluffy eyelashes and stupidly look at your neighbor, as if all his plans had been figured out in one second. David, sobbing loudly, rushed into the detective's bedroom, stomping loudly and finally slamming the door. John looked at his friend in surprise and raised one eyebrow.

You know, if you're all like that, ”he sighed loudly. “Okay, this is just stupid. Like you and me ... this is ... stupid ... huh? He's acting like a naughty girl, Sherlock, I hope you won't go along with this teenager?

Holmes quietly got up from his chair and looked around the room somehow doomily. John even opened his mouth as he watched his friend head to his boyfriend's bedroom.

Clenching his hands into fists, Watson bit his lip, noting that his hand was trembling again. He simply could not imagine what these two would do in private, which the presence of a neighbor had not given them for so long. The doctor walked around the room, trying not to listen, let alone break loose, shouting curses as he walked, and not letting himself run to the door to open it.

Something hurt. From Sherlock's gaze, he seemed to force himself to go into the bedroom, knowing what could happen, desperately not even this.

John had to act like an Englishman, like true friend, the doctor went to brew the kettle, making intense noise in order to drown out the possible noise, which, most likely, in a couple of seconds will be heard from above. The kettle was full, only the brewed tea was barely warm, and Watson sighed.

Oh, Sherlo-ok, - came from above, and Watson shuddered.

The kettle flew down, splashing all the warm liquid on the floor and on the dumbfounded doctor's pants. His heart was beating faster, and his hands were shaking strangely, and John slid to the floor. With glazed eyes, the man began to pick up the pieces, not noticing how the small chips of porcelain cut his fingers, how thin streams of blood mingle with the sticky tea.

It was necessary to urgently do something, the man perfectly understood that seconds were counting, that if he did not do something now, everything would be over, John himself did not know what would be over, but in the back seat he felt that something- it will definitely lose. Moaning loudly as the third shard dug into his palm, Watson finally realized that he could feel pain. Immediately there was a clatter of feet and a slam of the door, John looked up in disbelief. Sherlock Holmes stood in front of him without his usual shirt, in crumpled trousers with an unbuttoned fly, but still wearing boots.

Rage in a quiet wave began to rise from hidden and well-hidden places. Everything inside John was already boiling, and when the gaze of attentive eyes met his friend's swollen lips, the air seemed to be kicked out.

Jesus, John, what's wrong with your hands? - squatting next to him and unceremoniously grabbing his neighbor's hand, asked the detective and looked into John's empty eyes. - Joe-he?

Sherlock hesitated and looked down. Watson clenched his hands into fists, thereby forcing the fragments to enter deeper. Holmes quietly covered his shoulder with his hand and looked up.

John, we are a couple, and he, how shall I put it ...

What? - Flopping into a chair, the doctor asked quietly, slowly moving away from the shock.

What do you mean "my Sherlock"? the detective asked timidly and ruffled his curls.

John blushed and, stuttering, lifted his head up, he somehow forgot that he had screamed in a fit. Now it was impossible to deviate from his own words, no, if the words of recognition escaped, then it should have been so. You can't retreat now.

That is what it means! - growled the doctor, showing with all his appearance that he is not going to speak on this topic now. - Go get dressed, for God's sake!

You are so beautiful when you are angry, - he purred this somewhere in his friend's neck and hurried to leave a kiss on his skin. “If you only knew how much I like to make you jealous. I had no idea that you are such an owner.

I'm not gay. ”He said it purely for defense, as a final argument.

Holmes gently lowered his cold hands on his friend's shirt, stroked wide chest through the tissue and exhaled intermittently almost into his ear. Watson quietly whispered something like "God" and closed his eyes.

And I'm not gay, ”the detective purred and kissed him in the ear. - What prevents two non-gay people from sleeping, falling in love, starting dating, the point where we have to move, I cross out, this is already there, why we shouldn't be bisexual and loving friend a friend of people, Jo-he?

Watson suddenly opened his eyes and stared directly at the friend that loomed over him. Everything turned out the way he wanted, Sherlock again only him, but all this relationship simply scared the former military man, although what are the prejudices and fears when a loved one almost naked hangs over your face, almost begging him to touch his lips with his. And John did it. He reached forward to the lips of himself a loved one in the world.

The detective's lips were soft as expected, and John, unable to resist, bit lower lip men plucking the surprised oohs of a loved one. A hand fell on the curly nape of its own, stroking it gently, and Sherlock, no longer hesitating, ran his fingertips along the doctor's neck. The detective's tongue impudently entered John's open mouth, and the doctor flinched slightly as tongues clashed. It was surprisingly pleasant. Nothing repulsive.

Suddenly the phone rang, and John tried to jerk the phone, but Sherlock pinned him down, preventing him from moving.

"We have two different skies. And two different suns. But in my mirrors. The two of us remain."

John chuckled softly, just not remembering when he managed to change the call on his friend's phone. It was a simple joke that now risked ruining everything, or at least becoming their song. Sherlock sat on his partner's hips and unbuttoned a couple of buttons on his shirt, immediately pressing his lips to his skin. John threw back his head, exhausted.

"They call us" Gemini ". We are not friends, we are in love. You are me, I am you. Look for me in your fog of London."

God, Sherlock, turn it off, ”the doctor hissed and looked up.

Be patient. - Quietly asked the man and pulled away.

Watson groaned in protest and opened his eyes, watching his favorite impossible detective running to the music and looking for the phone. Finding it under the pillow, Holmes Jr. immediately pulled out the battery, thereby buying the two of them more time.

Jo-on, splinters, ”the detective said, and knelt down in front of his doctor. - Now I'll be back, just go for the first-aid kit.

Watson swore softly. The pain at the mention of himself became unbearable, and John sucked in a breath through his teeth. Sherlock, banging the first-aid kit nearby, sat down near the man's hand and armed himself with tweezers

Be patient, dear, - suddenly asked the detective and pulled a piece of porcelain. - How did I not pay attention to this earlier?

It doesn’t matter, ”the doctor said quietly, watching the person he loved pulls out the fragments.

Holmes shook his head and pulled another piece. Having fished everything out of the hand of his beloved, he began to treat the wounds with a cotton swab, gently kissing his palm and periodically looking into the eyes of his man.

Finishing kissing my hands, and pay attention to what is higher, - grinning, said John and immediately blushed, realizing that the phrase sounds a little double-valued.

Whatever you say, my doctor, ”the detective snorted and hurried back to his knees.

There are no more strangers in our house, ”the doctor exhaled and patted his miracle on the head. - Let's go to the sofa?

Holmes nodded in agreement and immediately dragged the man behind him. When John lay down on the sofa, Sherlock hastened to hang over him, taking the reins into his own hands. Taking off the doctor's shirt, the detective gasped in surprise, looking at the beautiful scar on the shoulder of his beloved. Running his fingertips along the edges of the scar, the man bent down and did the same, but with his tongue, from which John sighed briefly and leaned forward with his whole body, the detective disagreeingly put his hand on his chest, forcing him to lie still. Holmes slowly pulled back, unbuttoning his shirt and just as slowly tossing it to the floor, bent over his doctor again. Having smacked his beloved in the corner of his lips, the detective sank to his neck and hurried to leave a colorful aspirate on it, drawing in delicate skin and lightly biting her. He knew perfectly well that tomorrow John would most likely swear over the impossibility of hiding the impulses of his lover's passion. Putting his hands on the doctor's belt, Sherlock immediately raised his completely shameless eyes up and, grinning, ran the tip of his tongue over his own lips, teasing.

Oh, Sherlock, the doctor gasped and closed his eyes.

Quiet, dear, Mrs. Hudson is downstairs, ”the detective whispered, pulling his jeans off John’s beautiful legs.

Having straightened out with an unnecessary item of wardrobe, the man, with a sly smile, approached Watson's face and ran his tongue over the parted lips of his beloved. Immediately pulling back, Sherlock, enjoying the music of groans and oohs, gently stroked John's erect member through the thin fabric. Sinking slightly down, the detective took the head of the penis through the fabric of John's boxers and lightly, running his tongue over it, immediately released it from his mouth.

Ahhh ... God, Sherlock ... ohhh. - breathed Watson, trying not to push into the lover's hand that was now lying on his penis. - Not. I will not be below.

The detective did not have time to recover, as he was pressed against the sofa without trousers and with his hands over his head. John, slowly bending over his heavily heaving chest, ran his tongue from Adam's apple to navel and, unable to resist, bit the delicate skin above the elastic of his panties. Sherlock gave a short cry and jerked forward. John hovered over his right nipple and lightly ran his tongue over it, blowing immediately, and Holmes Jr. groaned loudly, jerking up. It was only when John did the same with the second nipple that he sank straight down to the detective's legs and erect cock. Leaving the suction on the inside of the thigh, the doctor grunted in satisfaction and covered his beloved's penis with his palm, tearing muffled moans from his swollen lips.

Jo-he, can we do something? the man groaned and threw his head back. - You are welcome.

Now, kitty, - stroking the detective thumb on the cheek, Watson promised. - Where is your lubricant and a condom?

God, Jo-on, she's in her pants, the condom is too far, come on? I am clean. - whimpered the great detective and trembled violently.

I am also clean, darling, if you do not mind, then we will limit ourselves only to lubrication, - having kissed the man on the forehead, John hastened to get off him, rummaging through his trouser pockets with his hands. - Where is the damn grease? - he growled, reaching into the second pocket. - Found!

Throwing both long and completely unbearable Beautiful legs on his shoulders, the man could not resist kissing the inner side of the thigh and purred in satisfaction. Squeezing out enough grease on his fingers, John lightly stroked the small hole and immediately bent down to kiss the detective on the lips.

Relax, - asked the doctor and pressed lightly on the entrance.

While stretching the man with one finger for now, John alternated stroking and stretching and sometimes squeezing his finger. After making sure Sherlock was ready, he added a second. Squeezing his fingers, Watson noted with pleasure how suddenly Sherlock trembled and groaned loudly, widening his eyes.

Found it, - said the doctor happily and kissed his beloved on his forehead, wet with sweat. - One more and that's it. Be sure to tell me if it hurts, dear, do you promise?

Jo-he, come on right away? - asked the detective and sat on his fingers. - You are welcome.

No way, ”the man replied with a frown and added a third finger, almost immediately starting to move them. - Wait.

Sherlock chuckled and began to move himself. Watson bit his lip, enjoying the indecent sighs and moans that the object of his passion emitted. When Holmes Jr. twitched, John decided it was time. Sticking out his fingers and provoking his beloved into disgruntled groans, the doctor generously lubricated his own standing member with a stake and put the head to the entrance. Sherlock closed his eyes and opened his mouth. Watson immediately moved forward, when the head was inside, the detective screamed and squeezed his lover's shoulders with his fingers.

Breathe, - ordered the former soldier and froze, - Sherlock breathe.

And you move, damn it, - the man cried out and blinked away the moisture.

John bent down to kiss his miracle on the salty cheek. Moving on, the doctor plunged almost completely, freezing only to hear the sobs of his beloved.

Damn it, Sherlock, I'm hurting you, ”the doctor growled and stroked the inside of his thigh. - Come on, we won't.

Sherlock shook his head in protest and sank himself onto his cock, which made his body shudder. Groaning, the detective began to sit down more slowly, and Watson hastened to seize the initiative. Pulling the man towards him by the hips, the doctor began to move slowly, deliberately avoiding the prostate. Sherlock wriggled under him, trying to seize the initiative, but John held him tight. Having touched the prostate, Watson looked with a smile as Holmes Jr.'s face turned pale, and his toes curled up.

I ... I will soon ... ah-ah-ah ... Jo-he, - moaned the detective and dug his fingers into John's shoulder so hard that he definitely left bruises.

Come on, darling, I'm after you, - the doctor whispered and began to drive in harder, ignoring the previously set rhythm.

When Sherlock's body shuddered strongly under and the walls squeezed, John, unable to withstand the sweet pressure, finished. A second later, Sherlock followed him, pouring into his lover's belly and shouting his name. Kissing the man on the collarbone, Watson gently got out of him and lay down next to him, picking up the slipped blanket with his toes. Throwing on both of them warm thing John hugged Sherlock from behind and kissed the scruff of the neck.

You were my first, Jo-on, ”the detective purred and stroked the man's thigh with his hand.

And I will be the last, - the doctor answered him and covered his hand with his. - Sherlock, I love you.

I know, John, ”the man grinned slyly and moved his hand to his waist. - I always knew.

Hanamiya Makoto was a terrible possessive, and Aiko knew that very well. She knew that seeing another guy next to her, Makoto became a madman, almost an inquisitor with eyes burning with anger. This has always been the case. So it was now.
The captain of the basketball team Kirisaki Daichi did not leave a poor unfortunate classmate who approached the girl with a question about writing an essay. Grabbing the guy by the collar of his white shirt, Hanamiya mercilessly pressed him against the iron cabinets, so much so that a noticeable dent formed on one of them.
- What. You. I wanted to. Do. With Aiko? - using parceling in his voice, said Hanamiya.
"Not ... nothing ... I swear," the guy croaked with difficulty, trying to free himself from the steel grip of the Spider.
“Makoto, please don’t! Stop! - Shouted the girl, running up, - He just asked me for help!
- Fuck it, Aiko! - the basketball player casually threw in the direction of Sakamoto, - I'll talk to you later!
The girl involuntarily recoiled from the guy, really worrying about the safety of her body. And nerves.
- what's going on here?! - at the end of the corridor came the thunderous voice of the headmaster. The gathered onlookers instantly parted, letting the man pass about forty-five years ahead.
- Yamato Kensuki, Aiko Sakamoto ... Makoto Hanamiya? What happened here? I demand an explanation!
Hanamiya, removing his fingers from Yamato's neck, quickly approached Aiko, covering him.
- Sorry, Director Kokuzawa. This ... guy molested my girlfriend. I could not endure this and stood up for my beloved, - having said the last phrase, the basketball player took the girl's hand in his.
- Well, Hanamiya. This, of course, is a noble deed, - concluded the director, straightening the glasses that have moved down on the bridge of the nose, - But it was possible to intercede for your chosen one a little quieter. Kensuki, what do you say in your defense?
At first, Yamato tried to tell the truth, but, catching the incinerating gaze of the Uncrowned King on himself, he bit his tongue out of harm's way.
***********************************************************************
Since that incident in the school hallway, Aiko has never met Makoto for the entire day. Generally. It didn't look like a guy at all. Usually he is next to her, either holding her hand, or keeping in sight.
Aiko was well aware of what would happen when they met. A battle will take place again, in which Hanamiya will again emerge victorious. And again, the girl will cover up the suction and bites with a toner all over the body. Again…
- What are you thinking about? - suddenly a voice rang out over the ear, - I hope that you are waiting for me, and not that freak in sneakers?
The basketball player approached the girl so silently that he made Sakamoto jump in surprise.
“Hanamiya-kun… You scared me.
- I like to intimidate people, you know, - the guy grinned in response, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his trousers, - Well, where will we go: to you or to me?
- If you want to drink tea with cookies, then come to me, - the Japanese woman answered quietly, blushing, - But if you don't want ...
Makoto didn't answer. He just grabbed the girl by the wrist and pulled her around the corner.
- Where are we going? Aiko asked, dutifully following her boyfriend.
“To the store for a bar of chocolate,” he finally said.
The couple went down the street, rounded a small square and, turning left, found themselves right in front of a small grocery store. Makoto released Aiko's hand and ordered him to stand in one place with a nod of his head.
“I have chocolate at home,” Sakamoto said quietly, lowering her head. “Dark as you like. And there are cookies. And even chocolate biscuits ...
- Fool, who said that we are going to your house, huh? And I need chocolate to smear my tongue on your body in the process of your punishment, - Hanamiya smiled vulgarly, - I quickly: there and back ...