Moonlight on the Bay of Naples

Chapter 4 Metaphors of Destiny

The young man took the initiative to kiss Norin through his drunkenness.

After the king's attendance at the Royal Theater's performance of "New Capital Spring", they had a celebratory feast as a matter of course.Intentionally or unintentionally, the youth got drunk.

He is the hottest upstart of the Odin dynasty, the most favored court guest around the young king.This kind of favor was still clearly visible in front of countless people not long ago tonight-King Louis personally poured the first glass of wine for the young man.

The young man was in a panic, and thanked him respectfully.

"Hahaha, between you and me, there is no need to say thank you," Louis, who has become a king, has thick curly black hair, and a high and full forehead reveals his jumping and passionate thoughts.He slowly put the shallow tulip wine glass behind the young man's raised hands, and he waved his hand impatiently and said, "This is a wine called 'mone-nightn' from the Kurt Empire, which means 'moonlight'. 'Moonlight' , of course to our greatest playwright. Gentlemen, are you not?"

There was a lot of applause.Seeing this, Louis was even more delighted, and his body movements became larger.It is not difficult for those present to see that he is imitating the posture of the conductor of the orchestra.

The classmate who once approached the young man, chatted with the people around him, turned around and lowered his eyes to cover the cold light of disappointment in his eyes.Louis is a good prince, but he doesn't seem fit to be a king.He has an almost morbid fanatical love for art. Since he took the throne, he has either music or painting.

Thinking about this, the classmates secretly looked at the youth with their eyes.The young man was surrounded by a crowd of dignitaries in a dress that was elegantly cut and stylish.

Young people are only immersed in the things in their hands.The liquid in the shallow tulip glass was very beautiful, crystal white and exquisite in the brilliant lights of the banquet hall.He naturally thought of Norlin's cold white nape.

mone-nightn.

He pronounced this foreign vocabulary unskillfully, and tasted it with full expectation.

The entrance is extremely light and lackluster.

At that time, he still didn't understand the metaphor brought to him by fate—the more beautiful and moving, the more illusory.

After the wine and lights were gone, the young man waved his hand to decline the carriage, leaving only a bodyguard to follow at a distance.

He was walking crookedly, not in the direction of home, but in the hut where Nolin was hiding.

"mone-nightn, mone-nightn, haha. mone-nightn floats in, night."

Alcohol allows youth's emotions to override reason.

He hummed Moonlight drunkenly.

Noreen had approved a coat, sleep marks still on his face.

He didn't ask the young man why he came, but with a little sleepiness, he seemed to be coquettish and complained: "You're back."

The rich fragrance seems to be absent, coming from Nuo Lin's body.

There was tenderness in the young man's chest, and the alcohol-burned head drove him to lower his head and gag Nolin's mouth.

They kiss passionately.

Those kisses, his lips.

Soft and approachable like petals, moist and sweet like honey.

Noreen was taken aback, nearly bouncing.But the young man shackled him in a fiery embrace, and repeatedly invaded|occupied his mouth.

The moon is getting lower and lower, and the sky seems to be breaking dawn.The dew falls on the tips of the grass blades, it is the leisurely sigh of someone wandering down in the attic.

Recalling his drunken gaffe, the young man was very depressed on the bed.But when he sat up, Norin's golden head leaned up and kissed lightly on the corner of the young man's lips.

His bright red lips stretched, revealing a greeting that could make the young man overjoyed: "Good morning."

The poor young man met the gypsy's child.

Lawless and erratic.

But he couldn't help himself.

The author has something to say:

Obviously it's just cannon fodder No. 1, but I wrote so many plots-. -

gypsy child

From the opera "Carmen": Love is the child of gypsies, lawless.