paranoid personality disorder

I saw Xu Zhao raised his head and looked at me, shaking his mouth and said, "Let's start over, shall we, He Ji?"

I didn't speak, but when I saw Mo Qian, I lowered my head and almost kissed Xu Zhao's mouth with a bit of ruthlessness, but looked at me without blinking.

Xu Nuo struggled for a long time, pushed Mo Qian away and slapped him: "Get lost."

Mo Qian smiled at him: "It's strange, Ah Nuo, when you were with He Ji, you still said you liked me, you liked me very much."

I was silent for a while, feeling that I couldn't watch the show any more, opened the door, exhausted, I hope this time I don't have fucking insomnia: "Get lost."

"Get out of my house."

Xu Zhao went up to me and wanted to cling to me, but Mo Qian hugged me right around the waist. He casually wrapped himself in a thin coat on the sofa, and dragged Xu Zhao out. Before going out, he glanced at me and didn't speak.

I closed the door directly.

Hold.

After sitting quietly on the sofa for a while, I feel that I can sleep and will not fall into the trouble of insomnia again.

How the hell can a person step into two identical rivers in a row.

Just turned into bed, pulled up the quilt and was about to fall asleep, when I heard rustling in the living room, like a thief.

I hesitated for a while, the door of the room was opened directly, followed by the switch of the overhead chandelier, and I saw the man who just led the people away was standing at the door of my room.

Fuck, how did I forget he had my house key.

Change the fucking lock when you have time.

He came over, knelt on my bed with one knee, and looked down at me: "Did I make you sad?"

I sneered: "You are not qualified yet."

He looked at me for a while, and thought for a while: "That's Xu Zhao." He also pressed his knee on the bed with the other leg, and bowed down, "Do you still like him?"

I looked at him blankly: "None of your business."

He lowered his head as if he wanted to kiss me, but I avoided him. He straightened up to look at me, and suddenly raised his hand to cover it with a little thumb: "I thought you liked me at least that much." He moved his hand towards me Push forward, "That's it."

I pushed him, and saw that half of his face was red and purple from the beating he had just received.

Pushed by me, he staggered, tried his best to fit his body, knelt on the bed with both knees neatly, and said suddenly: "Otherwise, I'll kill Xu Zhao?"

I glanced at him and sneered.

He lowered his head, looked up at me, and smiled: "How could I kill him, I quite like him." He reached out and touched the corner of my pajamas, still smiling: "He is so cute, how could I be willing to kill him."

Gee.

I knew he was a pervert.

I stretched out my hand and pulled the hem of the clothes touched by his fingertips, and caught a glimpse of his fingers tightening on the sheet.

After a while, he smiled and looked sideways at me: "Do you still remember that you said you would kill me one day?"

I looked at him silently.

He reached out and took out a piece of paper from his pocket, and put it beside him: "I have already written my suicide note."

As he spoke, he took out another Swiss Army Knife from his pocket, bounced it off and put the dead piston into my hand, blinking his eyes and looking at me: "Why don't you just kill me now?"

As he said that, he grabbed my hand, pointed the knife point at his chest, and looked at me without blinking: "When I was a teenager, I thought that even if I die one day, I must die in your hands. .”

I grabbed the dagger desperately, restraining the force he was sending towards my chest, and looked at his appearance carefully for a while.

impossible.

There was no way I would have known him as a teenager.

He seemed to be seeing that the strength in his hand could not push the knife into his chest. After a while, he pushed the knife forward by himself, and I saw a little blood oozing out.

It made me tremble with fright.

Angrily reprimanded: "You fucking let go."

He loosened his hand slightly, I pulled out the dagger, threw it on the floor hard, and stretched out my hand to slap him.

Pulling off his clothes, he saw only a faint bloodstain on it, so he couldn't hold back and slapped him again: "You fucking want to die and stay away from me, and want me to bear your life? Who are you?"

He paused, as if he was a little dazed by the two slaps, and leaned on my bed. After a while, he tilted his head and looked at me, as if he didn't know if he was in pain: "But I won't die in your hands." , what is the point of my death?"