Nick's mother sat up, overjoyed, and refused to let go of Nick's hand. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

By noon, Nick had lunch with his mother.

During the meal, the mother and son didn't talk much, basically just talking about the dishes at noon. But if one looks closely, one will find that all the servants are choking enough.

Because they all found that the mother and son had something to say to each other, but no one said it, or more accurately, they didn't dare to say it, so they had to keep going around in circles and talking about unnutritious topics.

Most of these servants have lived in the Lefebble family for several generations, worked for the Lefebble family, whether feudal or not, anyway, they regarded Madame Lefebble as a more important person than themselves, thinking what she thought, anxious about what she was anxious about. Seeing that there was still a gap between her and her son, everyone was very worried, otherwise one day Nick would have another convulsion and run out and not come back, and the lady would really go crazy.

But they are just servants, and they are not qualified to intervene between mother and son, so they can only be in a hurry.

Finally, the butler brought a bottle of wine and filled the glass for Madame Lefebler.

Just as he was stooping to pour his wine, he seemed to take the opportunity to say something to Madame Lefebble. Then Madame Lefebble drove away the servants in a little panic.

"Take this little guy down too." The lady pointed to the little boy.

"Wait!" Nick hurriedly stopped, "I don't worry about him being left alone. ”

Everyone threw confused glances at the young master.

Who is this little kid, how could he let the young master be so precious, to the extent that he can't leave an inch.

Nick touched his nose and couldn't explain it, so he said to his mother, "It's okay, he's just eating here, and he won't bother with anything." ”

His mother paused, waved her hand, and told the servants to go down.

The little boy glanced at Nick and Mrs. Lefebble with sparkling eyes, and then bowed his head and nibbled on the drumsticks. In front of him, the chicken leg bones were piled up higher than his head.

In the spacious and bright dining room, he was the only one chewing.

Madame Lefebble bowed her head slightly, looking at the food in front of her, as if she had no idea what was on her plate. She held the knife in her right hand, and there she turned the handle of the knife in silence, letting the knife turn uselessly in a circle, and then again.

"Mother."

Nick called softly. He heard the housekeeper trying to persuade his mother. It's just that it is clear that the mother can't open her mouth.

Then he's the son first. "Don't worry, I won't leave you again."

With a thud, the knife accidentally fell out of Madame Lefebble's hand.

Startled, she jerked her head up, looking at Nick with some blankness.

Nick smiled warmly at his mother.

This time, however, his mother didn't smile back.

"Really?" Mrs. Lefebble asked in a hoarse voice.

Nick paused, then nodded gently but firmly.

"Then why are you ...... this time," Nick's mother wiped the corners of her eyes, "what am I not doing well?" Nick, you name it. I change. I'm definitely changing. ”

"You didn't do anything wrong."

Nick's heart ached. "Really, nothing, don't ask again. I'm not going anywhere as long as I can. Trust me. ”

Madame Lefebble opened her mouth slightly, wanting to ask but not daring to ask.

She's not stupid, and of course she can see that Nick is hiding something from her.

But what is that? Why can't you tell her?

This made her panic.

Glancing at the little boy who was mechanically eating, Nick's mother, who somehow got the courage, jerked to her feet, crossed the table, and grabbed Nick's wrist. She moved so violently that she knocked over the cups and dishes, and the soup spilled all over her delicate dress, so that it clung to her legs and dripped down the costume.

But Madame Lefebble didn't care at all, and the hand was like a plier around Nick's wrist, so that he couldn't think of it.

"You tell me Nick! Whatever it is, tell me and I can stand it. ”

Nick's mother said.

She knew that Nick didn't want to speak, and there must be a reason for him.

But she couldn't stand it anymore.

Instead of living in fear every day, it is better to uncover all the scars in one go. If Nick really can't take her ...... Then she's going to die now! It's better than being tortured.

Nick still had his head down, looking at the food on the plate in front of him that was gradually getting cold, wishing he was just eating.

But when his mother pleaded with him, where could he escape?

Moreover, no matter how much he tried to pretend to turn a blind eye, the blood in his body, and the things he had done, were like the existence of a little boy, and could not be erased. On the contrary, if you are careless, you will be like a little boy, who does not know where to run, eats everything, and destroys everything.

That's even worse.

But what could he say?

He may not be a purebred human?

He used to dig up corpses and eat them?

He killed someone?

He's being hunted down?

The very, very cute kid in front of him is actually a serial killer who has recently made the Tokyo metropolitan area restless, or at least one of the killers? And he's essentially the same thing as that kid?

What could his mother stand it?

Nick looked up, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed back the tears that had moistened his eyes.

He said that he wanted to stay with his mother all the time, but whenever he said this, he actually added a word silently in his heart.

Before you get rid of me.

He...... It's a monster.

No matter how much he didn't want to admit it, he was a monster. His craving for food that he couldn't even pronounce could be delayed, it could be suppressed. But Nick knew that one day, it was going to explode.

By that time, it was the people closest to him who were most injured.

So he just wants to spend as much time with his mother as possible before everything is irretrievable. His companionship with his mother was not measured in years, but at most in months, days, or even hours or minutes.

With a bang, the cups and saucers on the table were knocked to the ground by Nick's mother. Nick's mother remained unconcerned, stepping on the fragments of the cup and saucer, and not caring that the fragments had punctured the soles of her shoes, and went over and hugged her son tightly.

"You're still resentful of your mother, aren't you?"

Mrs. Lefabler buried her head in the crook of Nick's neck and wept tremblingly. "Mother made a mistake and made you suffer so much outside, and she raised others as if they were you. I was wrong, forgive me, okay?

"No, it's okay not to forgive. You hate your mother. Hate it. Don't hold it back. (To be continued.) )