150, mild feeling(1/3)
No one expected that after Wen Li's home for several days, the first person to sit still was Damian.
"She thinks this is where? Come whenever she wants, and leave whenever she wants?" Damian angrily vented his dissatisfaction at Dick and Tim in the living room. "Where is my father? Don't care about her!"
Dick was holding his cell phone and sending messages to Barbara. He heard this and just nodded perfunctorily and echoed: "You are right."
Tim was so angry that his face turned red from Dick's unintentional words that Tim felt that he could not just use one or two words to perfunctory Damian.
He nodded and said in the most sincere voice he could make: "I can't say you right, she can't just come and go whenever she wants, Bruce should take care of her."
"...Don't think you can get away with it with just a long sentence, Drake." Damian was not angry, "You just repeated my words!"
So Tim spread his hands and said that he had made all the efforts he could do.
"What are you worried about? Connor is following her." Dick finally took the time to look up from the break between chatting with his girlfriend. "Connor now has nothing to do except protect Wen, they will not encounter any danger."
He paused for a moment and teased, "Or do you miss her?"
Damian glared at him fiercely.
However, Damian also realized that he had overreacted. He quickly calmed down his emotions, and the topic came to an end.
It was not until evening that Dick and Tim discovered that Damian had not appeared, and realized that Damian had not forgotten this.
Wen opened the door sleepily.
"Damian?" She turned around and let Damian enter the house. "Why are you here?"
"I felt it," said Damian.
He sat in the sofa with a swagger, and quietly fell down on the small sofa on the side: "What do you feel?"
"Don't change the subject."
“…”
"I felt it again, it came with you." Damian said, not asking the specific situation, nor saying nonsense, "What are you going to do?"
"Same as before, wait." Wen yawned, "Nothing will happen, don't worry."
Damian said: "What do I need to do?"
Wen looked at Damian in surprise, suspecting that he had hallucinations. Such words were actually said by Damian. Could it be that not only Bruce's personality has changed in this world, but even Damian has become much softer?
Why wasn't she born in this world? Damn it.
She thought about what might happen soon, such as "two Batman fights" and decided to give him a little insight in order to ask Damian for help.
"Do you know the parallel world?" she said, "I came from the parallel world."
"Say the point."
Wen also simply gave up the preparation and said directly: "My father may come to this world to find me."
Damian thought without hesitation: "You can't go with him."
"This is not sure," Wen replied in Damian's dissatisfied look after thinking seriously. "If he cried and said to me, 'Dad loves you,' maybe I would really be soft-hearted."
Damian hesitated for a while and thought about his father's personality: "I don't know, it should be fine to ask his father to say this alone. It would be too embarrassing to him when he cried."
After saying this, he realized that Wen Zheng was smiling at him.
Despite the fact that there was no ridicule in the smile, Damian was still angry and said sternly: "Don't talk nonsense anymore!"
No matter how serious the tone and expression is, coupled with his small face and tender little breasts, his deterrent power is 10% discounted.
Wen raised his face and yawned again: "I didn't say nonsense. If he said that, I might really be soft-hearted."
Unfortunately, she knew very well that this kind of thing would never happen to Bruce.
At least it won't happen to a normal-minded Bruce.
Damian nodded, still sitting in a big golden sword, looking like he didn't want to leave. Wen didn't care about this. It wasn't her turn to cook and wash dishes anyway. Damian just wanted to eat, so he could still assign a task to Connor.
One cooks and the other washes the dishes. They can discuss it themselves.
Cooperation is perfect.
When Damian didn't come, it would be fine if Connor finished it alone. Once Damian came, the number of people became three. Two of the three had something to do, but she didn't have it alone, and things seemed a little wrong.
It feels like she is eating for nothing.
Fortunately, both of them seemed to not mind her behavior of eating for nothing. Damian had already spontaneously entered the kitchen and did not even give Wen the opportunity to pretend to ask "Do you want me to help?"
So Wen said, "Do you cook delicious? Connor is very skilled."
"There are so many people waiting to eat." Damian snorted impatiently, then proudly thrust his chest, "My cooking skills are definitely stronger than him."
Wen looked at Damian for a few seconds and didn't understand why the top assassins from the Assassin League were so proud of their cooking skills.
But she was too lazy to ask, and shrank her body and stuffed herself into the soft sofa cushion.
Connor came back quite late.
When he entered the door, Damian's rice was almost done.
Wen's belly was facing upwards and collapsed into a bulging bag on the small sofa, with his head resting on his ankles and his knees folded under his ankles, making him look like a boneless cat.
For a moment, Connor was also shocked by Wen's strange posture.
He had a clear understanding of Wen's softness; Wen could play with many strange tricks, and he had witnessed them one by one. But he had never seen Wen sleeping so pitifully into a small ball.
After all, usually, Wen would occupy most of the bed space domineeringly, and even squeeze him to the edge of the bed, so that in order to keep half of his bed, Connor would firmly fix Wen in his arms when he was sleeping.
He stood beside the sofa, staring at his warm sleeping face in confusion for a while until Damian stood quietly behind him.
"Tsk." Damian said unhappily, "haven't seen enough yet?"
"How could it be enough?" Connor opened his mouth without thinking. "Would some people get tired of seeing the rising sun every day? Are some people get tired of blinking and breathing? I can never see warm enough. And she is so fun."
He stretched out his hand, carefully selected Wen's face for a long time, and finally set his position and bounced his fingers.
Wen woke up suddenly.
She rubbed her nose and met Connor's eyes that were squinting with smiles.
A few seconds later, Wen shouted, bounced off the sofa like a little leopard, pounced on Connor's face, and hugged Connor's head tightly like a face-cuff.
"What are you doing? I'm sleeping well!" She put her hands and feet together, snatching and kicking, "What's wrong with you!"
Connor's voice was muffled in Wen's arms: "Let me go first, you come down and talk..."
"I won't go down!"
"You come down first, be careful not to fall..."
"Don't try to change the topic!"
...
Damian, who stood behind the two of them, noticed without any surprise: he was ignored again.
But this is no wonder.
No matter how bad his temper is, Damian must admit the fact that with his height, within one meter of diameter centered at Connor and Wen, these two people would never be able to see him when they did not bow their heads and looked straight ahead.
When he was an assassin, his petite figure could provide countless benefits, allowing him to easily wander in the visual blind spot area of the assassination subject... However, when he was not an assassin and wanted to emphasize his presence, his height made Damian very upset.
but--
Damian glanced at the gentle Connor who kept making trouble, and suddenly became aware.
Even if he looks as tall as a mountain, these two people will probably only turn a blind eye to him, right?
The young Damian carried the knife in his hand with blood and returned to the kitchen with a calm heart. Connor brought back a lot of precious ingredients, and he was idle, so he might as well add a dessert...
So, why did he deliver it to the door?
In the living room, Connor, who had enough fun with Wen, also asked the same question: "What are Damian here for?"
"He wants to help." Wen sat on Connor's knee, still yawning uncontrollably.
"You seem to be sleepy lately," Connor said.
"You only found out today." Wen leaned on Connor's shoulder sleepily, "I don't know what's going on these days, I've always been unable to sleep enough."
Her work and schedule had completely collapsed. She had been sleeping for at least twenty hours a day for twenty hours, but she became more and more sleepy.
Conner gently touched Wen's cheek and whispered, "If you want to sleep, go back to sleep."
"I don't sleep." Wen rubbed his eyes and kept awake strongly. "I can't sleep well, so it's better to stay up late."
Connor looked at Wen's messy head speechlessly.
Now he has no choice.
If it were other ordinary people, they could persuade the other party not to stay up late, so as not to collapse.
But Wen doesn’t have to worry about these things at all - the difference in physical fitness between people is so big that it is incredible. Some people go to bed early and get up early, insist on exercising, and eat healthy, but they suffer from incurable symptoms at a young age; some people are reversal day and night, eat randomly and stuff themselves, and squeeze their physical strength, but they can maintain their peak state for decades.
Wen really doesn’t have to worry about staying up late and getting into any problems.
Connor had to try to convince Wen from another perspective: "You have nothing to do when you are awake."
In fact, this is what makes Connor feel the most strange. Wen usually sleeps whenever she wants. Not to mention that when she is really sleepy, she can lie on the sofa all day without doing anything even when she is not sleepy.
To be continued...