I was still holding my clothes in my hands for the next day.

Aldo's cold face pressed against mine, rubbing hesitantly.

His hands reached into the collar of his wide pyjamas at the back of his neck.

One hand rubbed the faded scar on the back of my shoulder, and the other carefully swam to my collarbone.

I could feel Aldo's nervousness.

It's really bad, and I'm still so restrained after drinking.

"You say, does God really roll the dice?" I asked calmly.

This is a question that I struggled with for months when I first dabbled in quantum mechanics.

Aldo stopped his offensive gesture and remained silent in the darkness.

"If the history of the box is to be properly deduced by the life and death of the cat," I continued, "then can we also think that all the experiences before this moment depend on the decisions of you and me at this moment?" ”

"Kang Rong ......," Aldo's tone was dejected.

"So, we don't grow old with the river of time," I paused, "and we're actually going back in time to every decision we've made. ”

There are thousands of interpretations of "Schrödinger's cat".

And I'm not deconstructing this paradoxical hypothesis.

I'm just telling Aldo a fact.

A smart man like him should know what I mean—

Until then, I had no interest in him; It's all up to me at this moment.

To put it more colloquially, at the moment, I still don't have feelings for Aldo that go beyond my work mates.

Aldo tilted his head slightly, his hands on my shoulders, and seemed to be unable to stand on his feet any longer.

His winey breath spat on my chin, "Your eyes are more beautiful than the Heavenly Sea." ”

I pushed Aldo away in annoyance, "You've drunk too much." ”

The push seemed to irritate him.

He staggered back two steps, then strode towards me, holding me tightly.

"Don't turn me down......" he muttered, his lips licking my neck and shoulder.

"Damn! You let go! "I felt sick to my stomach again and my throat was retching.

"Don't be a visiting professor, stay as a full-time professor."

Aldo was blinded by alcohol, and I suspect he really doesn't know what he's doing.

His breath grew thicker and thicker, and his hands roamed over me more boldly.

I wanted to vomit, but I couldn't vomit anything.

"Alright," I tried to keep myself calm and softened my voice, "I'll listen to you, don't go." Let's go to the couch, shall we? ”

"Huh?" Aldo was a little confused, glanced back at Angel who was half-dead on the bed, and seemed to understand again, "Mr. Angel won't hear it." He had drunk too much and was already drunk. ”

“……”

That's when I remembered that there was another person in the room.

"Even if he hears it, he won't mind." Aldo added, "He doesn't mind who you've been with." He told me personally. ”

A burst of flame burst from my belly.

I gritted my teeth, "Even if he minds, it doesn't matter to me." ”

Mixed emotions drove away what little sanity I had left.

I threw the clothes on the ground, put my arms around Aldo, and bit his lips.

The light sweetness of Chardonnay in his mouth made me feel more sick to my stomach.

I ignored my diaphragm and rudely tugged at Aldo's shirt.

He is nourished and nurtured by the land, and the skin under his shirt is soft and elastic, which is addictive.