World Code 427

36

They certainly don't sleep in the same room, much less the same bed - Stark lay there with his head facing the side closer to the wall (although the bed is positioned almost exactly in the middle), trying to sleep but because there were so many things keeping him from falling asleep, he had a really bad night, at least the first half, he hesitated to get out of bed to see if Steve was It's not that he didn't sleep either, but he gave up after hesitating for a while (it's not hard to guess Stark's thoughts, he cares a lot about face).

They talked a lot before, and it is estimated that the number just hit Stark's excitement.

"Bill?" Stark called out tentatively. Although he didn't report much hope, he still stood up and looked towards the open space beside the bed, in order to test whether it was really what he thought. Yes—Bill would be in front of him all the time.

And Bingo, he got the answer right, and it was true that no one paid him any attention (it was just a few seconds ago), so Stark twitched the corner of his mouth. In fact, he didn't expect anything, but then in the next second, Stark The moment he turned around, he was terrified.

"what!"

When a face appeared in front of him, the level of horror was no less than that of being frightened by a horror movie. Stark felt that his hair was about to stand on end. When he saw Bill squatting beside his bed, he finally I couldn't help but started to growl at him: "Is there something wrong with your brain, Bill, you almost scared me to death!"

"But I don't see you as someone who is scared to death." Bill stood up nonchalantly, and put his hands in his suit pockets, maybe he likes to do this, plus the thin curtains through the curtains The light coming through from the material still shone on his side face, he looked like a night walker, but more like a chic outsider, "What do you want me to do?"

"If I said I just wanted you to come and chat with me—don't look at me like that, it's all your fault Bill, you scared me out of everything I wanted to say!"

"I can make you remember." As he said that, Bill withdrew his hand and was about to bend down, maybe using some secret weapon, Stark didn't know what to do next.

"Stop, stop! I don't want you to do that." Stark immediately held out his hand to stop Bill from approaching (even though he didn't know what the other person was trying to do, he just didn't like this kind of - this kind of lying on the bed and it's a bit of a joke. Another very strange person stood by as if he was looking at adultery, of course Bill definitely didn’t intend to do so), he cleared his throat in a low voice and then propped himself up on the bed to lean on the wooden bed board, “When will I recover memory?"

"Until you leave here, I don't guarantee that the system intends to keep your memories of being here with you," Bill said.

"What does that mean?" Stark looked up at him. No matter how many times he looked at this face, he felt too cold. "I'm actually asking about this memory, this body."

"Since when did you have this idea?"

"What, oh what are you asking me - I have planned this from the beginning, don't you find it strange that I have wounds all over my body now, but my bones are still strong, and I don't even know why. I know, but—"

"Knock, knock, knock," the knock on the door was not too loud, but it felt very powerful, "Stark, are you still awake?"

"Ah... I'm reading poetry, don't be surprised I have a special hobby!" Hell, who has this kind of bedtime hobby, Tony started to laugh at his poor excuse, and then he gestured to Bill as he spoke, and then stared He pulled the quilt in the direction of the door.

"Can I go in?"

"Of course, this is your room," Stark said, watching the door being pushed open, and then pretending to be surprised, "Oh--I thought you went to bed early, or did I talk too loudly? gone?"

"No, I just have insomnia."

"Because of my arrival?"

"Maybe..." Steve didn't hide it, he was wearing a tank top and clean shorts, and he looked pretty good, just the right kind of thought-provoking, "—but you put the poem Where should I put it? There should be no such books in this room."

"Of course it is," Stark pointed to his head, and jumped out of bed with a jerk of the covers, "forget about that damn thing, I'm not good at that, especially being a philosopher. You're bored so you want to find When I was chatting, I was still worried about what I would do to you after you fell asleep, oh, don’t worry Captain, no matter how many possibilities appear in your mind, it will never happen.”

Stark stood in front of Steve, he was wearing a pair of boxer briefs, the only thing on his body to cover his body, and he was still patting the captain's shoulder, looking funny.

"I didn't think so, you know...you were the first person I invited here."

"Congratulations to myself, honored."

Wait, what kind of eyes is that on Rogers, Stark said in his heart, although he pretended to be ordinary on the surface, but his heartbeat was speeding up, he didn't know why, and even for a moment, he was full of fantasies about the person in front of him— —Don’t be kidding, that’s impossible. He brought you home. It doesn’t mean he’s showing affection. No matter how you look at it, Steve Rogers is an out-and-out straight man. Personal feelings are not in line with the law at all.

Before Stark's inner self-examination was over, Steve interrupted him, took Stark's hand off his own shoulder, and said, "Listen Stark, seriously, I Want to talk to you about something."

***

"No, he killed Morehand, how do you want me to explain it to you!" Peter walked back and forth in the room, frowning and looking anxious.

"You made it very clear, but what does it have to do with me?"

"Do you want everyone to die with you, don't drag us, you have to take responsibility for what you did," Peter said, "wipe the ass of the other thing you did."

"Oh..." Sera snorted at Peter's words. His smile was not far-fetched, but he understood that Peter was begging him at this moment, so all the initiative was in his hands. He just said, "I plan to give this honor to you." I entrust the mission to you—the savior Peter."

"I need your help Sierra, I have a friend—no, almost all of us think that way, you're not bad, per se." Peter frowned, he was anxious.

"You think so?"

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