Titanic: True Love Forever

Chapter 34: Awakening

Lines like only you are too creepy for me to calmly ignore. The old poodle was so dutiful that he walked out and came back in shortly after, and instead of leaving me in the room to fend for myself and run off to follow his employer, he came in pushing a small food cart. I'm not even sure how much they tip their waiters to be able to just mess around with stuff from people's kitchens and use it.

He walked over to the bed and conjured up another small table of low stools that could be put on the bed out of nowhere and placed it in front of me. My hands were tied to the headrail of the bed, my head leaned into the pillow, raised my eyes to see the edge of the table, and then try to see clearly above the table.

The old poodle familiarly carried the contents of the dining car to the table, and I watched as he set it out one by one, giving me a set of knives and forks in the process. Then he stood beside the bed and looked at me with a face as palsied as a vicious dog guarding a bone.

I wanted to ask him if he was going to make me perform the acrobatic act of pushing my chest against the table and then stretching out my half-meter-long neck to pick up the food on it. This kind of look of just showing me but not intending to let me eat, how can I feel like the old poodle is giving me a hard time.

I silently counted up the food on top, there was a plate of soup, smelled like it should be fish soup. The chef in the big kitchen, who specialized in fish with soup, must have loved this dish because it allowed him to put his expertise to good use. There are also jelly chocolate and other desserts, along with a piece of steak ...... I think the old poodle eighty percent to the kitchen to see what to take, this kind of messy food with the feeling of complete disharmony.

Smelling the food, I leaned back against the pillow in boredom, fuming as I counted how many chocolates there were, how many plates, a western knife and a fork and a spoon ......

The old poodle stood to one side, I lay on the bed, we looked at each other two speechless, only the fish soup emitted curls of smoke, for this boring monotonous scene to add some dynamic embellishment. If a painter had been present, I guess he could have painted the scene without a hitch.

Bright lights, brand new ornate room decorations, a tied up woman with an old servant looking at you face down.

What an impactful piece.

The blood doesn't circulate when you lie in the same position for too long, and I moved my wrists unnaturally in an attempt to loosen the ropes a bit. The old poodle watched my movements with squinted eyes, and if the ropes were to accidentally break free, he would be the first to come up and retie them for me.

How very serviceable.

Even though it was all for naught, I couldn't help but whisper, "Aren't you going to untie it for me?"

Lovejoy didn't look at me, he turned his head to look down at the door and said in a voice devoid of any emotion, "One is too old to run."

"The boat's open and I've got nowhere to run." I reassured him flatly, the ship is only two or three hundred meters long, I have no ticket in hand where can I run, hiding in the lifeboat will not last until the sinking of the ship I will starve.

"Your words have no credibility, if you intend to escape, just untie the rope even if I pull out a pistol you dare to jump out the window." The old poodle continued in that chatty tone, blandly, and with a slightly sad touch to his coat, as if to appease the pistol inside it.

It turned out that I was already credit-bankrupt in his eyes, and I indifferently continued to chat with him, "I can't eat anything when it's laid out like that, or else you'll put the table at my feet, and I'll pinch the steak with my toes before bending my legs to try to see if I can eat it okay."

The old poodle was silent, his facial paralysis cracked at one corner and the corners of his mouth twitched a few times.

In keeping with the tradition of honoring the old and loving the young, I kindly told him, "I haven't used my feet to eat, so I might stain the sheets later, so why don't you take the bedding away and get it back when I'm done eating."

The old poodle's hand that was touching his suit slowly exerted itself, almost scratching a deep crease out of his suit jacket, and for a moment his face looked pale and tired. Then he finally said slowly, "You look healthy."

I immediately don't say anything, my head continuing to tilt back on the pillow to look at my food and stare. You look healthy, so starving you for a meal or two won't kill you... that's the old poodle's way of getting down and dirty, deliberately abusing a hungry man's eyes with food.

The room was silent for a while, both of us were of the silent and unembarrassed type, and continued to stand guard one by one looking at the sky and the earth and gawking. I idly tried to think of how I was going to get out of this hellhole. It was difficult to fool the old poodle, he was on edge all the time and didn't relax at all.

Then it was time to start thinking about how the shipwreck happened, at first I thought it was because the keys to the locker for the telescope had been taken away by the last second mate, causing the six lookouts to have to rely on their eyes to see the icebergs, and as a result of that, they couldn't see the ship and it crashed into them. The problem is that I came to realize that White Star's lookouts basically rely on their eyes to observe the route, and whether or not they have binoculars doesn't seem to be the main problem for them, because at the beginning of their training, they were trained to use only their eyes to observe.

This was also one of White Star's advertisements to the public, that their lookouts were so good that they could see any obstacle in front of them without relying on binoculars. This leads to the fact that even if you give them binoculars, the lookouts won't rely on it most of the time.

So even if I pry open the cabinet and send the telescope up to the lookout, the unaccustomed lookouts probably won't use it.

As for the ship going too fast, no solution has come to mind at the moment.

While thinking about it, I went back to Romeo and Juliet on the Titanic. If memory serves, the second night of the Titanic Jack Rose staged one of the most classic encounters of all time, you jump and I jump.

I think Jack got off the ship though.

All stood in front of the barge, he promised me to get off the boat, for a man who made a promise, he should not break the contract ...... Wait, no Jack, Rose ran to jump off the boat who pulls?

Without any hesitation I turned to Lovejoy next to me and said, "Why don't you lock the door and go check on your employer's fiancée, I promise you won't leave here tonight."

Lovejoy rolled his eyes down eerily, his body didn't move as he continued to stand guard, and he said similarly to himself, "What kind of trickery is this, professional crooks are so full of tricks."

I was completely credit-bankrupt in his eyes, the kind that couldn't be more broken. Sighing sadly, I raised my eyes and stared above the bed, what a way to go, since getting on the boat bad luck had come one after the other, that damned crappy watch.

Just when I thought I was going to be silent with the old poodle until late at night, footsteps suddenly came from the door, a little hurried, almost to the door but stopped abruptly. The owner of the footsteps was probably a little flustered, so he didn't notice that his rhythm was thoroughly disorganized. He stood in the doorway for a few seconds, and then very inexplicably walked backward, but the next second the pace of walking backward turned back again. Back and forth, at least two or three times the footsteps stopped, followed by silent silence.

I looked quizzically at Lovejoy, who seemed to know who was out there, so he continued to stand in the middle of his watch with a calm face.

Then the person outside the door finally walked in and I squinted over to see that it was Carl in a tuxedo. He walked to the door with one hand in his pants pocket and a calm face, his dark hair took on a light brown color in the light, and against the white shirt and black jacket, he looked overall reserved and elegant.

It was amazing how fast he ate his dinner, was it hard to settle for squatting at the door with a dinner plate? That's not enough time to make one round trip to the large dining room on level D.

Carl walked over to the bed, he saw the small table resting on top of me and smiled, "How much did you eat."

The tone was alive with goose-feeding ranchers, eat more, and when you're full you'll be slaughtered and taken to the stew.

"She refuses to eat." The old poodle had a face of innocent sincerity, he clearly had no expression, but those little eyes could reveal a very trustworthy emotion.

I ...... hate this old man.

Carl's smile immediately pulled down, changing his face to match the brush. "Refusing to eat?" He sneered, then his anger came extremely fast, two steps to the bed and leaned over, his hand reached out and pinched my chin, forcing me to look at him face to face. I could see the anger under his eyes rushing out in a hideous fury, and even the muscles of his face twisted a little.

"You think you can get away with this? Even if you starve to death, don't think I'll untie the ropes."

I wouldn't starve myself to death for a rope, it's too much of a bargain. I felt strange and annoyed at the anger of this guy who came up and pinched my chin, couldn't he show some respect?

I forcefully skimmed my head, intending to skim off that crab hand on my chin, at the same time gritted my teeth and said, "I starve to death isn't just the right thing to help you solve your trouble, why don't you just wrap me up in a sheet and throw me in the sea and get it over with, what's so crazy."

Is this unlucky guy manic, every time he sees him, he's either in a rage or angry.

"I'm mad, heh." Not knowing where my words hurt him, he suddenly gave a sardonic laugh, then the smile faded, his expression carrying a certain sense of resignation that one could not understand. His voice trembled as he continued to repeat, "I'm mad, yes, I feel mad. Do you know what I've been thinking just now? There was no way of controlling it, it was as if my brain had been switched, and before I could get out of the doorway I desperately wanted to walk back in, because you would have disappeared, and all I had to do was not look at you and you must have disappeared into thin air."

He blurted out his accusations in a violent rage, as if he had suffered some unbearable calamity. His hand pinched harder on my jaw where I was about to duck as he told me with his breath messy, "This isn't right, we've only known each other for a day, no, it's been almost two days, and it's only been two days and I've gone completely insane. This feeling is driving me so crazy I can't even repress it, I ran back here without even going into the restaurant."

I let out a gasp of pain, this psycho was going hairy crazy. I wasn't even mad enough to be chased by him until I missed my chance to get off the ship, so what was he doing commiserating with himself on the sidelines?

"Why is it like this, this kind of thing is simply impossible ...... I can't be, can't be ......" He looked at me strangely and in a trance and kept reciting the same sentence, and then that sense of bewilderment gradually faded away. Carl, who had barely returned to normal, was suddenly startled, and his hand on my chin shrank away as quickly as it had been scalded. Then he jumped to the side and took several steps back until he was at the end of the bed where he leaned against the bedposts and looked at me with a strange look in his eyes.

I was almost pinched by this guy's force until my jaw dislocated, this guy is simply a psychopath, right, if you really have an attack, don't let it out to bite people, okay?

I bit my lip and tried to make that uncomfortable feeling in my jaw disappear a little. Then glaring in extreme anger at Calhokli, who was leaning against the end post of the bed, startled by my gaze, followed by an obvious dodge, seemingly unable to withstand my anger. Of course that dodge was short-lived, and he immediately raised his head, placed his hands in his trouser pockets, and stood up straight to face me, like a charging knight who had suddenly donned the armor of courage.

He tried to give a gracious and natural smile, like the one he'd given countless times in social circles, where he'd look refined and sociable. Unfortunately the smile wasn't as successful as it could have been, and he seemed to quickly notice that the current scene wasn't suitable for such a smile, so he flattened the corners of his mouth again and reached out uncomfortably for a wave, saying in another mature and slow-sounding tone of voice, "You shouldn't hurt yourself, and it's dinnertime, and starving yourself isn't going to do you any good. I don't want to see you dying, don't refuse food, the doctor said your body is missing a lot of nutrients. Let's make it up, shall we?"

The last query was so courteous and polite, with a somewhat high tailed tone, that it sounded approachable.

"You untie me and I'll eat it myself." I wondered if he and the old poodle had tossed me around on purpose, placing the food in front of me and then tying my hands and coming to blame me for refusing to eat. Am I a python monster? Can I still coil around the table and nibble and eat by myself?

"No way." He refused to stop for almost a second, immediately stomping my offer into the ground.

Come on someone normal to communicate with me, I c****d my head wearily at the old poodle, only to find the old miscreant coldly twitching the corners of his mouth a bit and gloating.

I finally realized that it was impossible for a psychotic master to have a normal servant, two of the most annoying people I'd met in years, bar none.

Karl stood for a moment before finally snapping out of it, he remedied the situation with a quick step back to the bed again and said to me, "You're not in a position to eat easily, Lovejoy, go and get more pillows."

Quickly my position changed, from lying on the bed to half lying on the bed, with the ropes tied to my hands a cut higher. With my back against two large pillows, I looked at the small dining table in front of me and realized that I could indeed bite into those chocolate or pudding desserts with my mouth by lowering my head, and as for the plate of fish soup, I was spared, and I couldn't have made a licking gesture even if I had been more faceless and skinless.

Carl looked at me for a moment and froze, not sure what he was thinking, he was about to order Lovejoy or something, but obviously swallowed back the command that was on the tip of his tongue. Then it turned into a wide-eyed stare with me, and just as I was considering whether or not to nibble down on a chocolate to fill my stomach first, Carl finally made a hard and terrible decision.

He stiffens and reaches down to pick up the plate of fish soup, running his fingers around the edge of the plate as he mutters disgruntledly, "It's not hot enough."

The soup was actually still warm, and he was lucky he hadn't tipped it over with all that neurotic tossing earlier. Carl held the fish soup in his hands and hesitated for a few seconds, and I almost spoke up to tell him to take it if he wanted it and stop salivating and staring at the plate.

The next second, he picked up the spoon, then scooped a spoonful of the soup to his mouth and tried half a sip. No sooner had the fish soup been in his mouth than he flattened his mouth a bit critically, "Not as good as my cook, this ship is due for a new cook."

I've heard that the chief chef of this ship is so good that his salary is second only to the captain's, he's about to cry when he hears that kind of comment, isn't he?

Then I watched as he handed over the remaining half-spoon of soup and brought it hard to my mouth. Carl said chirpily, "Drink it, it won't be drinkable if it gets any colder."

I was even more squirmy than he was; I wasn't that casual about other people's saliva. I couldn't help but tilt my head to avoid his spoon, please don't give the rest of your spit to someone else, I'd rather you just serve it on a plate.

"Do you want me to force you to eat?" Carl's patience runs out and he's about to poke a spoon in my face.

With this kind of douchebag, it's no wonder his fiancée ran away, who can stand that kind of shifty personality. I just remembered that Rose jumped into the sea who to pull the problem, was tossed by him to almost forget, I do not want to cause a butterfly effect because of the Jack fooled off the boat after the dew dew jumped into the sea successfully. Now it's not a big case of you jump and I jump, but you jump and you jump.

I looked down disgustedly at the half-bite of soup near my mouth and finally overcame the mental block and said to Carl, "I can eat, just have him feed me while you go check on your fiancée." Someone had to be next to Rose to stop her desperate actions.

"Fiancée?" The spoon Carl was making to poke in my face paused, and it seemed to take him a moment to remember that he had a beautiful fiancée in the restaurant. He blinks down a little awkwardly at first, but another kind of elation he simply can't suppress blossoms at the corners of his mouth as he asks in a quick tone, "You care about her a lot."

I nodded my head without thinking much, bullshit, of course I cared if anything happened to her, she and Jack were my former goddesses and heroes.

"It's okay, come on, eat." He cheers a little and then tries desperately to suppress that happy emotion, it's obvious he's in pain from repressing it. For a moment I didn't know how he got that look on his face that was a mix of distraught, angry, and happy as hell.

I said in a cold voice, "Go, someone has to stay by her side." There was no way to say outright that she was going to kill herself, but having an extra person by her side all the time then she wouldn't put it into action.

Carl pursed his lips as he hesitated for a moment, seemingly reluctant to move. Soon he saw the old poodle, and at once found someone he could boss around. "You go and see, quickly."

Lovejoy didn't object much, as if he was used to Carl's tell-it-like-it-is personality. He nodded down and headed for the door, and before he could get out, the expression on Carl's face as he faced me changed, an indifference bordering on coldness appeared in his eyes, and he said in a quiet voice, "It's enough for you to keep an eye on her tonight, and tell her to get some rest and not to come over."

Lovejoy pauses on his feet for a moment before walking out real fast.

The gloom between Carl's eyebrows slackens, and he continues to bring the spoon to my mouth as easily as if he'd just solved some difficulty, and I look with difficulty at the half-licked mouthful of soup that has been licked by someone else, and am tempted to ask him to change the spoon. Finally, helplessly, I opened my mouth to take the spoon and swallowed the second-hand soup.

"It doesn't taste the best, but it should be enough for you." Carl ladled another spoonful of soup and handed it over as he chimed in like an old mom, "You haven't had this before, have you."

I nearly choked myself on the fish soup I had in my mouth, I'd been drinking this stuff every day for a while, and when I was in the hospital, I'd been given 10-percent soup until I wanted to throw up. I wasn't even aware that the original stuff could be used to show off. Looking at the soup spoon that was again close enough to almost pry open my mouth, I had to drink the soup with one mouth.

He's addicted to this game, and I didn't even know someone could feed a soup with so much interest. Eighty percent had never fed anyone since he was a kid, which is why he could take pleasure in such a boring action.

Carl couldn't help but give a smug smile after seeing me take a mouthful of fish soup. The indifference that stayed between his eyebrows just now disappeared, and the sense of grumpiness was replaced by patience.

I suddenly felt that something was wrong.

Expressionless, I took a sip of the soup and eerily observed the guy in front of me.

He seemed to notice my gaze and quickly put away the smile at the corners of his own mouth before straightening his expression and saying seriously, "What else would you like to eat?"

Without waiting for me to answer, he had already picked up his knife and fork and started cutting the steak, "Have some of these, too much soup won't do any good."

When he came over to me with a piece of meat on his fork, I finally realized what was wrong. Strange, the attitude wasn't at all like a friendly meeting between a kidnapping and a kidnapper. How is it more like the atmosphere between ...... lovers?