Plato's Little Star [ABO]

Floor-to-ceiling curtains in the room blocked the light of Leto's son.Olande took a nap on the sofa in Plato's small apartment, and when he woke up, Plato was changing clothes. He stood barefoot on the carpet, and his white marble back was covered with a layer of implication. Powerful muscles, beautiful flesh - Plato bit the collar of the black sports jacket, unzipped it, and changed into Oland's pullover.

Olande suppressed the desire to yawn, tried to open his eyes wide, squinted and said, "Platu, you came back from your morning run."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I woke you up." Plato folded his clothes and turned on the floor lamp beside the sofa. The lowest brightness did not stimulate people's vision, and the dark maroon table reflected a gentle halo.

Plato sat on the sofa and handed Holland a glass of water.The sofa next to Hollander was dented, and Plato asked him, "It's only 06:30, do you want to take a rest?"

Olande closed his heavy eyes, "I almost thought I was in a dream, from the time I met Plato Miller to now."

"Yes, this is in a dream, my dream." Plato lay sideways on the sofa, touching Olande's forehead, "In the dream, Olando loves me as much as I love him, so I pray to the god of sleep every night to inject tiredness into my body sooner."

Oland inserted his hand into Plato's light-blond hair, leaned his head against Plato's shoulder, and felt Plato's body temperature and breathing, as well as the vibration of his vocal cords and Adam's apple when he spoke, "In Plato's dream Here, does Olande have a crush on him?"

"Let me call up the historical records to take a look—Olande has a crush on Plato." Plato's body smelled of cedar, "More than two months ago, Orlande invited him to drink oranges in Plato. When drinking soda, he kept looking at Plato unconsciously. When he realized that he was looking at Plato, he would lower his long eyelashes to cover his black and white eyes, and then staggered his gaze. Of course Plato's The bad guy has a crush on Olande too, so he doesn't want to miss any look from him."

"No, no, no." Olande said "no" and smiled, looking up at Plato, his eyes rolled slightly, but kept looking at Plato's eyes, and Plato's drooping eyelashes cast a shadow on the lower eyelid. A small patch of shadow, he blinked.

"It was earlier," Holland said.

"When we met for the first time? Well... so Plato is so attractive." Plato closed his eyes and said softly, putting his arms around Olande's waist and embracing Olande.

"Not that early probably... I think."

"That's...the time you peeled apples in the ward?"

Olande was lying on the sofa, facing Plato on a goose feather pillow, and his voice was a little vague, "You didn't see me. Once you touched a black brown for a long time at the fruit stand by the sea, You may have forgotten. But I bought the black brown—and held it in my hand. Under the snow-capped mountains with large pine forests, there is a blue sea and white foam. I am with the black brown. I watched it for a long time."

"God, I'm honored to be liked by Olande. But, then...you avoided me for more than half a month, until you were hospitalized for observation, right?" Plato asked with certainty, "Olande, have you ever thought that maybe I also have a crush on you?"

"You took care of a beautiful woman that day, I thought she was your girlfriend, and you were the first gender heterosexual - I later found out it wasn't. And... I'm an Omega disguised as a Beta, I can Live on your own, as a Beta." Olande said sullenly, "I never thought that I would take the initiative to love anyone—including a secret love. This is my punishment for deceiving others."

Plato hugged Olande, brushed his soft lips against his forehead, "Maybe I'm pansexual. That beautiful Indian woman is our interpreter - a sick Omega, her partner that day Got caught by the traffic police while driving her over because his pheromones smelled like wine and I was placed in her care. I'm glad I confessed to you first, Olander, so I'm talking to you Falling in love, not someone else. I want to buy tropical fruit with you at the fruit stand on Merlots Esplanade, and maybe we can buy two glasses of sweet ale with clear straws."

Olande thought of the black brown that Plato touched, the sun-tanned and plump fruit, the sweet and juicy flesh stretching the black-purple skin to the point of bursting, the ripe sour The sweet smell diffuses with the sea breeze.

The director of the Crystal State Library organized a small picnic under the pine forest of Mount Emerald.Hugged by the sea breeze of the Cristo Sea, Mount Emoret is very tall, with a pinch of silver on the top of the mountain, and large cedars grow under the white clouds.Hollander saw Plato through the tall pine trees, standing among the savory-like plants with small white flowers, the wind blowing his light golden hair.Olande always unconsciously pursued that touch of light gold.

The curator's old radio was playing "Teach Me How Not to Miss Her," and the bass plucked the wind in the woods.Olander knew that the lyrics were short poems written by a Chinese from the East at the University of London—there are a few clouds floating in the sky and a little breeze blowing on the ground.The breeze blows my hair, how can I miss her?

In the dense and deep pine forest, there is an Indian stupa, which is said to be the tomb of an Indian princess in exile.Platu and his colleagues were taking notes, and a Southeast Asian woman was standing in front of the stupa and translating something.She had glowing brown skin, teeth as white as jasmine, long black hair that fell to her waist in fluffy clouds, and gold ornaments on her hands.

Plato carried her bag and handed her a thermos. He took extra care of her.

Olande watched them from a distance with a strange and sour feeling in his heart.He wanted Plato to turn around, and then pretended that he had just discovered Plato, and greeted Plato with a surprised tone, but he was afraid that Plato would find himself watching him.He knew that the way he looked at Plato was different from the way he looked at others. Plato was always the object of his eyes subconsciously, just like people looking at the night sky, their eyes always unconsciously notice the brightest spot. stars.

Plato and his colleagues descended the hill, strolling along Mellors Street by the sea, while Ireland's "The Last Rose of Summer" blared from the radio at a fruit stand.The dark-haired woman stopped by the fruit stand, and Platu accompanied her to pick the fruit.He picked up a plump black brown, smelled it lightly, then felt the skin of the black brown with his fingertips, and said something to the woman with a smile.Plato's blue eyes were as gentle as the sea.

In the end Plato didn't buy the black brown and put it back at the fruit stand.The sky was the color of a withered rose.Olande bought a black brown, and sat side by side with it watching the waves.The wet sea breeze blows Olande's hair, and Olande finds himself in a one-sided love.

The author has something to say: There are some clouds floating in the sky, and some breeze blowing on the ground.ah!The breeze blows my hair, how can I miss her?

——Liu Bannong "Teach Me How Not to Miss Her", the song was composed by Mr. Zhao Yuanren.