Читать книгу The bride of the silver dragon онлайн

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I don’t even try to deny it, and I barely blush when my stomach rumbles loudly, protesting the movie. I’m even without lunch today, and I had a couple of spoiled muffins for breakfast, most of which went for crumbs anyway.

– I get it, – the moonshiner smiles. – You need to be fed.

– Oh, yes, – I blissfully squinted, – preferably something horribly non-vegetarian and ungodly caloric.

As my young moonshiner backs out of the car, I scramble to get all the way up on the seat. From this vantage point, while he’s driving, he can be quietly viewed. And I, despite the very uncertain status of our relationship and my “more of a no than a yes,” still enjoy looking at his face. It’s very handsome, if you take the classic look of popular models on magazine covers as an ideal: blond elongated hair cut in jagged strands, a thin, perfectly straight nose (I’m pretty sure plastic surgery was involved, but who said it was bad?), full, slightly messy lips that give his image exactly that note of realism, without which all this beauty would make me want to cross my eyes and run away so as not to soil it with my sinful presence.