บท 6: Chapter 6

They went over with the mobster pinned to the bed. Hogan arched up against him and the bedsprings gave a frightful creak both of them ignored in favour of their other senses. Vergil’s teeth nipped at Hogan’s lip. Hogan’s tobacco scented breath was hot on Vergil’s cheek. Things were getting out of control so fast that Vergil didn’t even have time to panic. Hogan’s hands slipped along the buttons of their waistcoats, undoing what he could in the brief moments when they were far enough apart with fiercely well-practiced fingers. It was only when those fingers grazed across the skin under Vergil’s shirt and he heard another animal moan coming out of his mouth that Vergil’s eyes snapped open and he tumbled back off the bed. He landed in a heap on the dusty rug, then crab-walked away until he hit the wall. He had forgotten to breathe, but he dragged in the mildewed air of the room now like it was his salvation. He had to think. He had to buy time to think.