[Comprehensive British and American] Super British American Dream

Chapter 1️⃣1️⃣: Moral Prisoner (1)

Clark woke up from his dream and found that he was not in the cold Atlantic waters, but in a bedroom that looked ordinary and warm. There was a soft bed under him, a dry and warm blanket covering him, and he could vaguely hear the TV. With the joyful voice in his voice, he sat up and looked around, recalling that his last memory was sinking to the bottom of the sea because he prevented an explosion in an offshore oil field.

　　He concentrated on listening to the noise downstairs. There was no one there, only the noisy laughter of the TV entertainment program and the hum of the kettle in the kitchen. Clark put on the knitted slippers next to the bed. They were brown and had an ugly bear pattern knitted on them. They fit surprisingly well. He frowned in surprise and calmly went downstairs to help the owner of the house turn off the fire.

　　Clark came out of the kitchen and found several photo frames on the fireplace. He turned around to look at the sofa. His blue pupils dilated for a moment, and he couldn't help but open his mouth and reach for one of them. The four people inside were smiling happily. He and Jonathan were standing at the door of his house. Martha was standing on the second staircase with a young and beautiful blond woman. Martha was holding Jonathan from behind, and the woman was holding him. Looking at him.

　　He looked at other photos, including Martha and Jonathan, but there were more photos of him and the blond woman. They were cooking in the kitchen together. The blond woman was washing his hair and applying foam all over his face. Pao, you're still smiling stupidly...

　　what's going on? A burst of cheerful footsteps came from far away. Clark put down the photo and stood at the door. From a distance, he saw the blond woman in the photo trotting over holding a round pumpkin.

　　"Clark!" She saw her husband at the door, waved to him with one hand, and ran towards him with a smile on her face. She simply tied her blond hair back and ran like a burning golden flame. Her blue eyes were big and beautiful, and the light gathered in them made her eyes sparkle. She wore a simple white vest and jeans, with a jacket on top. She wore her husband's plaid shirt knotted around her waist. With her plump breasts, slender waist, and straight long legs, she was still radiantly beautiful without makeup.

　　She ran across the cart in the yard, threw the pumpkin in it, laughed like a little sun, and got into Clark's arms. She hugged his neck and crawled into his arms. Clark didn't even maintain his implicit vigilance. His expression automatically surrounded the woman in his arms.

　　"Has the fire been turned off? Dad asked you to go over and help him move the pumpkins. This year's pumpkins have grown especially big and look delicious. Yesterday, Martha said she would make pumpkin pie." Poppet came out of his arms and pushed She led him to change his shoes while chirping to him.

　　Clark sat on the low stool at the door to put on his shoes and watched her enter the kitchen to check the kettle. He still didn't understand the situation yet. He lifted up his shoes, and something scratched the metal piece on his fingers. His eyes fell on the ring finger - the ring.

　　Poppe came out of the kitchen and saw his confused expression, and there was also a hint of vigilance in his expression, and finally realized that something was wrong with her husband. She walked over and sat on one of Clark's legs, gently turned his face, carefully observed his expression, and found that Clark's expression was vaguely aggressive.

　　"Clark, what's wrong with you?" But Poppe was not afraid of him at all, even if the man in front of her could kill her with one finger. She pressed her forehead with him and gently stroked his back, as if to comfort a just-inflicted animal. A beast who came to a strange environment, "Tell me, okay?"

　　Clark stared at the woman in front of him. There was no doubt that she was beautiful, but the important thing was that she looked at him as if she were looking at the most beautiful things in the world, gentle. Pity and love melted the ice that had wrapped around Clark's heart. Reason told him it was best to understand the situation first, but emotion betrayed him.

　　So he said: "I don't remember you."

　　"Huh?" Poppe held his head and turned it over, "Are you injured? Does it hurt anywhere?" Clark didn't expect that her first reaction was worry. Was she injured? In his expectation, she would start to feel sad at this time. His eyes became gentle and he allowed her to turn her head back and forth.

　　"No, at least I didn't feel it." He held her hand, which was more natural and gentle than he imagined. Maybe he really forgot something.

　　"There shouldn't be anything that can hurt you?" Poppet raised his left eyebrow in thought, looking like a distressed doll. "Oh, let's discuss it when we get back. Dad is still waiting for us to go over. He can't move it alone. Move that big pumpkin, it's super big, super big." She got off Clark's lap with a smile, pulled him out, and danced with gestures.