五十度灰(Fifty Shades of Grey)英文版 Part II 7

black?it’sdifficulttotell.

inmybefuddledstate,ireachacrossandswitchon

thebedsidelight,thenturnbacktolookbutthere’snoone

there.ishakemyhead.didiimagineit?dreamit?

isitupandlookaroundtheroom,avague,insidious

uneasegrippingme—butiamquitealone.

irubmyface.whattimeisit?where’schristian?the

alarmsaysit’stwofifteeninthemorning.

climbinggroggilyoutofbed,isetofftohunthim

down,disconcertedbymyoveractiveimagination.iam

seeingthingsnow.itmustbeareactiontothedramatic

eventsoftheevening.

themainroomisempty,theonlylightemanatingfrom

thethreependulumlampsabovethebreakfastbar.buthis

studydoorisajar,andihearhimonthephone.

“idon’tknowwhyyou’recallingatthishour.iha一ve

nothingtosaytoyou...well,youcantellmenow.you

don’tha一vetolea一veamessage.”

istandmotionlessbythedoor,ea一vesdroppingguiltily.

whoishetalkingto?

“no,youlisten.iaskedyou,andnowiamtellingyou.

lea一veheralone.she’snothingtodowithyou.doyou

understand?”

hesoundsbelligerentandangry.ihesitatetoknock.

“iknowyoudo.butimeanit,elena.lea一veherthe

fuckalone.doineedtoputitintriplicateforyou?are

youhearingme?...good.goodnight.”heslamsthe

phonedownonthedesk.

ohshit.iknocktentativelyonthedoor.

“what?”hesnarls,andialmostwanttorunandhide.

hesitsathisdeskwithhisheadinhishands.he

glancesup,hisexpressionferocious,buthisfacesoftens

immediatelywhenheseesme.hiseyesarewideand

cautious.suddenly,helookssotiredandmyheart

constricts.

heblinks,andhiseyessweepdownmylegsandback

again.iamwearingoneofhist-shirts.

“youshouldbeinsatinorsilk,anastasia,”he

breathes.“buteveninmyt-shirtyoulookbeautiful.”

oh,anunexpectedcompliment.“imissedyou.come

tobed.”

herisesslowlyoutofthechairstillinhiswhiteshirt

andblackdresspants.butnowhiseyesareshiningand

fullofpromise...butthere’satraceofsadness,too.he

standsinfrontofme,staringintentlybutnottouchingme.

“doyouknowwhatyoumeantome?”hemurmurs.

“ifsomethinghappenedtoyou,becauseofme...”his

voicetrailsoff,hisbrowcreasing,andthepainthatflashes

acrosshisfaceisalmostpalpable.helookssovulnerable

—hisfearverymuchapparent.

“nothing’sgoingtohappentome,”ireassurehim,my

voicesoothing.ireachupandstrokehisface,runningmy

fingersthroughthestubbleonhischeek.it’sunexpectedly

soft.“yourbeardgrowsquickly,”iwhisper,unableto

hidethewonderinmyvoiceatthisbeautiful,fucked-up

manwhostandsbeforeme.

itracethelineofhisbottomlipthentrailmyfingers

downhisthroat,tothefaintsmudgeoflipstickatthebase

ofhisneck.hegazesdownatme,stillnottouchingme,his

lipsparted.irunmyindexfingeralongtheline,andhe

closeshiseyes.hissoftbreathingquickens.myfingers

reachtheedgeofhisshirt,andirunthemdowntothenext

fastenedbutton.

“i’mnotgoingtotouchyou.ijustwanttoundoyour

shirt,”iwhisper.

hiseyesopenwide,regardingmewithalarm.buthe

doesn’tmove,andhedoesn’tstopme.veryslowlyi

unfastenthebutton,holdingthematerialawayfromhis

skin,andmovetentativelydowntothenextbutton,

repeatingtheprocess—slowly,concentratingonwhatiam

doing.

idon’twanttotouchhim.well,ido...butiwon’t.

onthefourthbutton,theredlinereappears,andismile

shylyupathim.

“backonhometerritory.”itracethelinewithmy

fingersbeforeundoingthefinalbutton.ipullhisshirtopen

andmovetohiscuffs,removinghisblackpolishedstone

cufflinksoneatatime.

“canitakeyourshirtoff?”iask,myvoicelow.

henods,eyesstillwide,asireachupandpullhisshirt

overhisshoulders.hefreeshishandssohe’sstandingin

frontofmenakedfromthewaistup.withhisshirtoff,he

seemstorecoverhisequilibrium.hesmirksdownatme.

“whataboutmypants,misssteele?”heasks,raising

aneyebrow.

“inthebedroom.iwantyouinyourbed.”

“doyounow?misssteele,youareinsatiable.”

“ican’tthinkwhy.”igrabhishand,pullhimfromhis

study,andleadhimtohisbedroom.theroomischilly.

“youopenedthebalconydoor?”heasks,frowning

downatmeaswearriveinhisroom.

“no.”idon’trememberdoingthat.irecallscanning

theroomwheniwoke.thedoorwasdefinitelyclosed.

ohshit...allthebloodrushesfrommyface,andi

stareatchristianasmymouthfallsopen.

“what?”hesnaps,glaringatme.

“wheniwoke...therewassomeoneinhere,”i

whisper.“ithoughtitwasmyimagination.”

“what?”helookshorrifiedanddashestothebalcony

door,peersout,thenstepsbackintotheroomandlocks

thedoorbehindhim.“areyousure?who?”heaskshis

voicetight.

“awoman,ithink.itwasdark.i’donlyjustwoken

up.”

“getdressed,”hesnarlsatmeonhiswaybackin.

“now!”

“myclothesareupstairs,”iwhimper.

hepullsopenoneofthedrawersinhischestof

drawersandfishesoutapairofsweatpants.

“puttheseon.”theyarefartoobig,butheisnottobe

arguedwith.

heswipesat-shirt,too,andquicklypullsitoverhis

head.grabbingthebedsidephone,hepressestwo

buttons.

“she’sstillfuckinghere,”hehissesdownthephone.

approximatelythreesecondslater,taylorandoneof

theothersecurityguys,burstintochristian’sbedroom.

christiangivesthemaprécisofwhathashappened.

“howlongago?”taylordemands,staringatmeall

businesslike.he’sstillwearinghisjacket.doesthisman

eversleep?

“abouttenminutes,”imutter,forsomereasonfeeling

guilty.

“sheknowstheapartmentlikethebackofherhand,”

sayschristian.“iamtakinganastasiaawaynow.she’s

hidingheresomewhere.findher.whenisgailback?

“tomorrowevening,sir.”

“she’snottoreturnuntilthisplaceissecure.

understand?”christiansnaps.

“yes,sir.willyoubegoingtobellevue?”

“i’mnotleadingthisproblemtomyparents.bookme

somewhere.”

“yes.i’llcallyou.”

“aren’twealloverreactingslightly?”iask.

christianglowersatme.“shemayha一veagun,”he

growls.

“christian,shewasstandingattheendofthebed.she

couldha一veshotmethen,ifthat’swhatshewantedtodo.”

christianpausesforamomenttoreininhistemper,i

think.inamenacinglysoftvoicehesays,“i’mnot

preparedtotaketherisk.taylor,anastasianeedsshoes.”

christiandisappearsintohisclosetwhilethesecurity

guywatchesme.ican’trememberhisname,ryanmaybe.

helooksalternatelydownthehallandtothebalcony

windows.christianemergesacoupleofminuteslaterwith

aleathermessengerbag,wearingjeansandhispinstriped

blazer.hedrapesadenimjacketaroundmyshoulders.

“come.”heclaspsmyhandtightly,andiha一veto

practicallyruntokeepupwithhislongstridesintothe

greatroom.

“ican’tbelieveshecouldhidesomewhereinhere,”i

mutter,staringoutthebalconydoors.

“it’sabigplace.youha一ven’tseenitallyet.”

“whydon’tyoujustcallher...tellheryouwantto

talktoher?”

“anastasia,she’sunstable,andshemaybearmed,”he

saysirritably.

“sowejustrun?”

“fornow—yes.”

“supposingshetriestoshoottaylor?”

“taylorknowsandunderstandsguns,”hesayswith

distaste.“he’llbequickerwithagunthansheis.”

“raywasinthearmy.he’staughtmetoshoot.”

christianraiseshiseyebrowsandforamomentlooks

utterlybemused.“you,withagun?”hesaysincredulously.

“yes.”iamaffronted.“icanshoot,mr.grey,so

you’dbetterbeware.it’snotjustcrazyex-subsyouneed

toworryabout.”

“i’llbearthatinmind,misssteele,”heanswersdryly,

amused,anditfeelsgoodtoknowthateveninthis

ridiculouslytensesituation,icanmakehimsmile.

taylormeetsusinthefoyerandhandsmemysmall

suitcaseandmyblackconverse.iamstunnedthathe’s

packedmesomeclothes.ismileshylyathimwith

gratitude,andhisreturningsmileisswiftandreassuring.

beforeicanstopmyself—ihughim,hard.he’stakenby

surprise,andwhenireleasehim,he’spinkinbothcheeks.

“becareful,”imurmur.

“yes,misssteele,”hemutters.

christianfrownsatmeandthenlooksquestioninglyat

taylor,whosmilesveryslightlyandadjustshistie.

“letmeknowwherei’mgoing.”christiansays.

taylorreachesintohisjacket,pullsouthiswallet,and

handschristianacreditcard.

“youmightwanttousethiswhenyougetthere.”

christiannods.“goodthinking.”

ryanjoinsus.“sawyerandreynoldsfoundnothing,”

hesaystotaylor.

“accompanymr.greyandmisssteeletothe

garage,”taylororders.

thegarageisdeserted.well,itisnearlythreeinthe

morning.christianushersmeintothepassengerseatofthe

r8andputsmycaseandhisbaginthetrunkatthefront

ofthecar.theaudibesideusisacompletemess—every

tireslashed,whitepaintsplatteredalloverit.it’schilling

andmakesmegratefulthatchristianistakingme

somewhereelse.

“areplacementwillarriveonmonday,”christiansays

bleaklywhenhe’sseatedbesideme.

“howcouldsheha一veknownitwasmycar?”

heglancesanxiouslyatmeandsighs.“shehadan

audia3.ibuyoneforallmysubmissives—it’soneofthe

safestcarsinitsclass.”

oh.“so,notsomuchagraduationpresent,then.”

“anastasia,despitewhatihoped,youha一veneverbeen

mysubmissive,sotechnicallyitisagraduationpresent.”

hepullsoutoftheparkingspaceandspeedstotheexit.

despitewhathehoped.ohno...mysubconscious

shakesherheadsadly.thisiswhatwecomebacktoall

thetime.

“areyoustillhoping?”iwhisper.

thein-carphonebuzzes.“grey,”christiansnaps.

“fairmontolympic.inmyname.”

“thankyou,taylor.and,taylor,becareful.”

taylorpauses.“yes,sir,”hesaysquietly,and

christianhangsup.

thestreetsofseattlearedeserted,andchristianroars

upfifthavenuetowardthei-5.onceontheinterstate,he

floorsthegaspedal,headingnorth.heacceleratesso

quicklyi’mmomentarilythrownbackinmyseat.

ipeekathim.he’sdeepinthought,radiatingadeadly

broodingsilence.hehasn’tansweredmyquestion.he

glancesfrequentlyattherearviewmirror,andirealizehe’s

checkingthatwe’renotbeingfollowed.perhapsthat’s

whywe’reonthei-5.ithoughtthefairmontwasin

seattle.

igazeoutofthewindow,tryingtorationalizemy

exhausted,overactivemind.ifshe’dwantedtohurtme,

shehadampleopportunityinthebedroom.

“no.it’snotwhatihopefor,notanymore.ithought

thatwasobvious.”christianinterruptsmyintrospection,

hisvoicesoft.

iblinkathim,pullinghisdenimjackettighteraround

me,andidon’tknowifthechillisemanatingfromwithin

meorfromoutside.

“iworrythat,youknow...thati’mnotenough.”

“you’remorethanenough.fortheloveofgod,

anastasia,whatdoiha一vetodo?”

tellmeaboutyourself.tellmeyouloveme.

“whydidyouthinki’dlea一vewhenitoldyoudr.

flynnhadtoldmealltherewastoknowaboutyou?”

hesighshea一vily,closinghiseyesforamoment,andfor

thelongesttimehedoesn’tanswer.“youcannotbeginto

understandthedepthsofmydepra一vity,anastasia.andit’s

notsomethingiwanttosharewithyou.”

“andyoureallythinki’dlea一ve,ifiknew?”myvoice

ishigh,incredulous.doesn’theunderstandthatilovehim?

“doyouthinksolittleofme?”

“iknowyou’lllea一ve,”hesayssadly.

“christian...ithinkthat’sveryunlikely.ican’t

imaginebeingwithoutyou.”ever...

“youleftmeonce—idon’twanttogothereagain.”

“elenasaidshesawyoulastsaturday,”iwhisper

quietly.

“shedidn’t.”hefrowns.

“youdidn’tgotoseeher,whenileft?”

“no,”hesnaps,irritated.“ijusttoldyouididn’t—and

idon’tliketobedoub一ted,”hescolds.“ididn’tgo

anywherelastweekend.isatandmadetheglideryou

ga一veme.tookmeforever,”headdsquietly.

myheartclenchesagain.mrs.robinsonsaidshesaw

him.

didsheordidn’tshe?she’slying.why?

“contrarytowhatelenathinks,idon’trushtoherwith

allmyproblems,anastasia.idon’trushtoanybody.you

mayha一venoticed—i’mnotmuchofatalker.”hetightens

hisholdonthesteeringwheel.

“carricktoldmeyoudidn’ttalkfortwoyears.”

“didhenow?”christian’smouthpressesintoahard

line.

“ikindofpumpedhimforinformation.”embarrassed,

istareatmyfingers.

“sowhatelsediddaddysay?”

“hesaidyourmomwasthedoctorwhoexaminedyou

whenyouwerebroughtintothehospital.afteryouwere

discoveredinyourapartment.”

christian’sexpressionremainsblank...careful.

“hesaidlearningthepianohelped.andmia.”

hislipscurlinafondsmileatthementionofhername.

afteramomenthesays,“shewasaboutsixmonthsold

whenshearrived.iwasthrilled,elliotlessso.he’d

alreadyhadtocontendwithmyarrival.shewasperfect.”

thesweet,sadaweinhisvoiceisaffecting.“lessso

now,ofcourse,”hemutters,andirecallhersuccessful

attemptsattheballtothwartourlasciviousintentions.it

makesmegiggle.

christiangivesmeasidewaysglance.“youfindthat

amusing,misssteele?”

“sheseemeddeterminedtokeepusapart.”

helaughsmirthlessly.“yes,she’squiteaccomplished.”

hereachesacrossandsqueezesmyknee.“butwegot

thereintheend.”hesmilesthenglancesintherearview

mirroroncemore.“idon’tthinkwe’vebeenfollowed.”

heturnsoffthei-5andheadsbacktocentralseattle.

“caniaskyousomethingaboutelena?”weare

stoppedatsometrafficlights.

hegazesatmewarily.“ifyoumust,”hemutters

sullenly,butidon’tlethisirritabilitydeterme.

“youtoldmeagesagothatshelovedyouinawayyou

foundacceptable.whatdidthatmean?”

“isn’titobvious?”heasks.

“nottome.”

“iwasoutofcontrol.icouldn’tbeartobetouched.i

can’tbearitnow.forafourteen,fifteen-year-old

adolescentboywithhormonesraging,itwasadifficult

time.sheshowedmeawaytoletoffsteam.”

oh.“miasaidyouwereabrawler.”

“christ,whatisitwithmyloquaciousfamily?actually

—it’syou.”we’vestoppedatmorelights,andhenarrows

hiseyesatme.“youinveigleinformationoutofpeople.”

heshakeshisheadinmockdisgust.

“miavolunteeredthatinformation.infact,shewas

veryforthcoming.shewasworriedyou’dstartabrawlin

themarqueeifyoudidn’twinmeattheauction,”imutter

indignantly.

“oh,baby,therewasnodangerofthat.therewasno

wayiwouldletanyoneelsedancewithyou.”

“youletdr.flynn.”

“he’salwaystheexceptiontotherule.”

christianpullsintotheimpressive,leafydrivewayof

thefairmontolympichotelandparksnearthefrontdoor,

besideaquaintstonefountain.

“come.”heclimbsoutofthecarandretrievesour

luggage.avaletrushestowardus,lookingsurprised—no

doub一tatourlatearrival.christiantosseshimthecarkeys.

“nameoftaylor,”hesays.thevaletnodsandcan’t

containhisgleeasheleapsintother8anddrivesoff.

christiantakesmyhandandstridesintothelobby.

asistandbesidehimatthereceptiondesk,ifeel

utterly,utterlyridiculous.hereiam,inseattle’smost

prestigioushotel,dressedinanoversizeddenimjacket,

oversizedsweatpants,andanoldt-shirtnexttothis

elegant,beautiful,greekgod.nowonderthereceptionist

islookingfromonetotheotherasiftheequationdoesn’t

addup.ofcourse,she’sover-awedbychristian.irollmy

eyesassheflushescrimsonandstutters.jeez,evenher

handsareshaking.

“do...youneedahand...withyourbags,mr.

taylor?”sheasks,goingscarletagain.

“no,mrs.taylorandicanmanage.”

mrs.taylor!buti’mnotwearingaring.iputmy

handsbehindmyback.

“you’reinthecascadesuite,mr.taylor,eleventh

floor.ourbellboywillhelpwithyourbags.”

“we’refine,”christiansayscurtly.“wherearethe

elevators?”

missflushingcrimsonexplains,andchristiangrasps

myhandoncemore.iglancebrieflyroundtheimpressive,

sumptuouslobbyfullofoverstuffedchairs,desertedsa一ve

foradark-hairedwomansittingonacozysofa,feeding

tidbitstoherwestie.sheglancesupandsmilesatusaswe

makeourwaytotheelevators.sothehotelallowspets?

oddforaplacesogrand!

thesuitehastwobedrooms,aformaldiningroom,

andcomescompletewithgrandpiano.alogfireblazesin

themassivemainroom.jeez...thissuiteisbiggerthan

myapartment.

“well,mrs.taylor,idon’tknowaboutyou,buti’d

reallylikeadrink,”christianmutters,lockingthefront

doorsecurely.

inthebedroom,heputsmycaseandhissatchelonthe

ottomanatthefootoftheking-sizefour-posterbedand

leadsmebythehandintothemainroomwherethefireis

burningbrightly.it’sawelcomesight.istandandwarm

myhandswhilechristianfixesusbothadrink.

“armagnac?”

“please.”

afteramoment,hejoinsmebythefireandhandsme

acrystalbrandyglass.

“it’sbeenquiteaday,huh?”

inodandhisgrayeyesgazeatmesearchingly,

concerned.

“i’mokay,”iwhisperreassuringly.“howaboutyou?”

“well,rightnowi’dliketodrinkthisandthen,if

you’renottootired,takeyoutobedandlosemyselfin

you.”

“ithinkthatcanbearranged,mr.taylor.”ismile

shylyathimasheshufflesoutofhisshoesandpeelsoffhis

socks.

“mrs.taylor,stopbitingyourlip,”hewhispers.

iblushintomyglass.thearmagnacisdelicious,

lea一vingaburningwarmthinitswakeasitglidessilkily

downmythroat.wheniglanceupatchristian,he’s

sippinghisbrandy,watchingme,hiseyesdark—hungry.

“youneverceasetoamazeme,anastasia.afteraday

liketoday—oryesterday,rather—you’renotwhiningor

runningoffintothehillsscreaming.iaminaweofyou.

you’reverystrong.”

“you’reaverygoodreasontostay,”imurmur.“itold

you,christian,i’mnotgoinganywhere,nomatterwhat

you’vedone.youknowhowifeelaboutyou.”

hismouthtwistsasifhedoub一tsmywords,andhis

browcreasesasifwhati’msayingispainfulforhimto

hear.oh,christian,whatdoiha一vetodotomakeyou

realizehowifeel?

lethimbeatyou,mysubconscioussneersatme.i

scowlinwardlyather.

“whereareyougoingtohangjosé’sportraitsofme?”

itrytolightenthemood.

“thatdepends.”hislipstwitch.thisisobviouslya

muchmorepalatabletopicofconversationforhim.

“onwhat?”

“circumstances,”hesaysmysteriously.“hisshow’s

notoveryet,soidon’tha一vetodecidestraightaway.”

icockmyheadtoonesideandnarrowmyeyes.

“youcanlookassternlyasyoulike,mrs.taylor.i’m

sayingnothing,”heteases.

“imaytorturethetruthfromyou.”

heraisesaneyebrow.“really,anastasia,idon’tthink

youshouldmakepromisesyoucan’tfulfill.”

ohmy,isthatwhathethinks?iplacemyglassonthe

mantelpiece,reachover,andmuchtochristian’ssurprise,

takehisglassandplaceitbesidemine.

“we’lljustha一vetoseeaboutthat,”imurmur.very

bra一vely—emboldenedbythebrandy,nodoub一t—itake

christian’shandandpullhimtowardthebedroom.atthe

footofthebedistop.christianistryingtohidehis

amusement.

“nowyouha一vemeinhere,anastasia,whatareyou

goingtodowithme?”heteases,hisvoicelow.

“i’mgoingtostartbyundressingyou.iwanttofinish

whatistartedearlier.”ireachforthelapelsonhisjacket,

carefulnottotouchhim,andhedoesn’tflinchbuthe’s

holdinghisbreath.

gently,ipushhisjacketoverhisshoulders,andhis

eyesstayonmine,alltracesofhumorgone,astheygrow

larger,burningintome,waryandneedful?thereareso

manyinterpretationsofhislook.whatishethinking?i

placehisjacketontheottoman.

“nowyourt-shirt,”iwhisperandliftitbythehem.

hecooperates,raisinghisarmsandbackingaway,making

iteasierformetopullitoff.onceoff,hegazesdownat

me,intently,wearingjusthisjeansthathangso

provocativelyfromhiships.thebandofhisboxerbriefsis

visible.

myeyesmovehungrilyupacrosshistautstomachto

theremainsofthelipstickline,fadedandsmudged,then

uptohischest.iwantnothingmorethantorunmytongue

throughhischesthairtosa一vorhistaste.

“nowwhat?”hewhispers,eyesblazing.

“iwanttokissyouhere.”irunmyfingerfromhipbone

tohipboneacrosshisbelly.

hislipspartasheinhalessharply.“i’mnotstopping

you,”hebreathes.

itakehishand.“you’dbetterliedownthen,”i

murmurandleadhimtothesideofthefour-posterbed.

heseemsbewildered,anditoccurstomethatperhapsno

onehastakentheleadwithhimsince...her.no,don’t

gothere.

liftingthecovers,hesitsontheedgeofthebed,

gazingupatme,waiting,hisexpressionwaryandserious.

istandbeforehimandslipoffhisdenimjacketandletit

droptothefloor,thenishuffleoutofhissweatpants.

herubshisthumboverthetipsofhisfingers.he’s

itchingtotouchme,icantell,buthesuppressestheurge.

takingadeepbreathandbeyondcourageous,ireachfor

thehemofmyt-shirtandliftitovermyheadsoiam

nakedbeforehim.hiseyesdon’tlea一vemine,buthe

swallowsandhislipspart.

“youareaphrodite,anastasia,”hemurmurs.

iclasphisfaceinmyhands,tiphisheadup,andbend

tokisshim.hegroanslowinhisthroat.

asiplacemymouthonhis,hegrabsmyhips,and

beforeiknowit,iampinnedbeneathhim,hislegsforcing

mineapartsothathe’scradledagainstmybodybetween

mylegs.he’skissingme,ra一vagingmymouth,ourtongues

entwined.hishandtrailsfrommythigh,overmyhip,along

mybellytomybreast,squeezing,kneading,andpulling

enticinglyonmynipple.

igroanandtiltmypelvisinvoluntarilyagainsthim,

findingadeliciousfrictionagainsttheseamofhisflyandhis

growingerection.hestopskissingmeandgazesdownat

mebemusedandbreathless.heflexeshishipssohis

erectionpushesagainstme....yes.rightthere.

iclosemyeyesandmoan,andhedoesitagain,but

thistimeipushback,relishinghisansweringmoanashe

kissesmeagain.hecontinuestheslowdelicioustorture—

rubbingme,rubbinghim.andhe’sright—gettinglostin

him—it’sintoxicatingtotheexclusionofeverythingelse.

allmyworriesareobliterated.

iamhereinthismomentwithhim—mybloodsinging

inmyveins,thrummingloudlythroughmyears,mixedwith

thesoundofourpantingbreaths.iburymyhandsinhis

hair,holdinghimtomymouth,consuminghim,mytongue

asa一variciousashis.itrailmyfingersdownhisarms,down

hislowerbacktothewaistbandofhisjeansandpushmy

intrepid,greedyhandsinside,urginghimonandon—

forgettingeverything,exceptus.