[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

37:[-] p.m., Baker Street.

It was still cloudy during the day, but London at night was unexpectedly clear.

There was no moon and the sky was full of stars, as if someone had drawn a giant velvet curtain in the sky and sprinkled a handful of diamonds on it.

Ludwig was sitting on the sofa in the living room, holding a goblet with a light red liquid in his hand.

Opposite her was her room, the door was open, the bed had been removed and replaced by a small table with a black coffin on it.

... No, that's not a coffin.

That is her peace.

The lid of the coffin was not closed, and Ludwig stared in that direction without blinking.

There was no light in the living room, and she sat alone in the dark.

……

"I thought you were afraid of souls."

Suddenly there was a faint sound in the living room, and Sherlock turned on the light with a "snap", and the room immediately became brighter.

Ludwig blinked because of the sudden light:

"Fear can also be divided into objects. Even if I am afraid of myself, I will not be afraid of him."

Sherlock had obviously not slept either, as he was still wearing his day shirt.

"It's a touching trust, although the theory of fear of ghosts is fundamentally nonsense... Vichy, I want coffee."

"Cook their own."

Following her gaze, Sherlock saw the coffin parked in the room, black, low-key, but——not to be ignored.

Candles, incense, porcelain dishes with running water, and staring at the coffin all night... Which country's custom is this?

He said calmly:

"Two candies."

Ludwig sat on the sofa indifferently:

"Not even two cans of sugar, I don't have time."

He leaned against the door, his white shirt contrasted sharply with the black door frame:

"Why? You're sitting idle now."

"No why... Aren't you just standing around?"

Sherlock paused, stretched out his hand, and turned off the light again.

The sudden darkness made people uncomfortable, and Ludwig suddenly couldn't see anything, only the dancing candles in the room.

But Sherlock walked right to her side and sat down.

The sofa has sunken slightly:

"I don't remember the British tradition of staring at the coffin and not sleeping...Is this a Chinese custom?"

Ludwig's eyesight gradually recovered. She looked at the two candles in the room. The dancing candles on the candlesticks were like whispering souls, twisting their bodies to escape from the flames.

She was silent for a while:

"If you believe it, it is."

"If I believe it."

Sherlock repeated briefly:

"But it doesn't seem to be an easy thing to accept—even if he is not guilty, I can find at least ten logical explanations, but none of them include the one you mentioned."

Ludwig seemed to be listening, but also didn't seem to be listening.

Sherlock's deep voice sounded like a string in the darkness:

"Resurrection from the dead, space-time theory... what you want me to believe, the probability is as small as a curve that is infinitely close to the x-axis, and in most cases, we call events with this probability... impossible events .”

"I can't make you believe it, because I can't prove it."

Ludwig took a sip of his wine:

"But so what? Whether they are true or not, they have become my experience, the past... What do they have to do with my future? And I don't want to dwell on the past anymore, sir."

Sherlock turned his head to look at her profile silently in the darkness.

Due to the effect of alcohol, her face was a little bloody, and she was no longer as pale as in the daytime.

She continued calmly:

"Of course, I know it's hard. If my boyfriend looks like someone has implanted memories and has a serious mental illness, but refuses to receive treatment, I will also find it difficult to accept..."

Sherlock sat next to her.

In the dark night, his expression gradually cooled down:

"What do you want to say?"

"Didn't you figure it out already?"

Ludwig smiled:

"What I want to say is... If you really can't accept it and want to leave, I won't stop you."

She spoke slowly, as if she was talking about an ordinary thing:

"If you leave, I can understand. If you don't want me to live in Baker Street, I can also move out. After all, it is a bit strange to live together after breaking up... But if I can really get into Cambridge, I think Please keep quiet about everything you believe deeply, or I may be expelled from school."

……

He always believed that she had dreamed up another world in her brain, and she might even be on the verge of schizophrenia... He firmly believed in this.

And she couldn't come up with any evidence to refute it.

How can they be together?

Or, she accepts Sherlock's point of view and takes activity-suppressing drugs when she is not sick at all.

Or, Sherlock compromised and chose to be with his girlfriend who was considered to be severely neurotic.

……

Who wants to be with a neurotic?Who wants to be with a schizophrenic?

Even, the truth is not like this.

That wasn't the world she imagined...that was her.

……

"Of course, I won't expose you to the school board... a student has severe paranoia, this kind of thing is too trivial, and it's not worth my trip across the entire campus."

"..."

After a brief silence, Ludwig heard Sherlock speak calmly again:

"Break up... Did you have such an idea a long time ago?"

Ludwig didn't speak.

Sherlock obviously didn't intend to give her time to talk either.

He thought of her brief hug that morning.

After hugging and hugging, she crossed the river and demolished the bridge.

She filled out her own forms, found her own movers, ordered her own casket, contacted the funeral home herself, and… kept wishing him away.

……

He lowered his eyes:

"From a certain point of view, it seems that I should praise you for being considerate. After all, there are people around me who keep calling a number that has long been empty. This kind of behavior is really stupid and unbearable..."

……

When she suffered great changes and was physically and mentally exhausted, she still chose to do everything alone.

Like she did all the wallpapering by herself.

Although she didn't express it clearly, in retrospect, she did not receive any help from him... From the beginning to the end, there was nothing.

Is she giving him room to retreat?

Or to put it more directly... She was drawing a line with him?

……

Sherlock said lightly:

"So, that hug in the morning didn't express love, but...farewell?"

"..."

Ludwig shook the wine glass again and again, the color of the cherry was reflected on her pale cheeks, sparkling with her movements.

"I thought you had noticed it a long time ago, because I was so naked... I thought it was your acquiescence."

"..."

The corners of his mouth slowly curled up:

"Now that I think about it, you did act very clearly...Obviously, although I tried to understand, feelings were never my area, so I didn't see your 'uncovered' expression."

Ludwig said softly:

"That's okay, at least we're clear now."

Sherlock's tone did not fluctuate, even a little relaxed:

"What about you? After breaking up, where are you going to go?"

"Prepare for the exam first, and if you pass the exam, you can stay in the UK... If you can't pass the exam, I have already thought about it, and I will continue to travel."

Sherlock tapped his fingers on the sofa and repeated lightly:

"Oh...you have thought about it too."

"Well, I've thought about it all."

Ludwig pretended to smile relaxedly:

"Wait tomorrow... or the day after tomorrow, after Erich's business is done, shall we have the last supper together?"

She gripped the goblet's slender neck tightly.

The slender index finger was stuck with an inconspicuous mark by the cold and hard glass.

"Which one? How about your favorite Willow's? I hope they've changed the head clarinet."

……

It's just a split.

On earth, every day, every minute, every second, someone is breaking up.

……

"Shouldn't have changed. Mom likes his off-key way of 'playing cards not according to common sense'."

"Really? That's a pity."

Ludwig held the wine glass and took another sip:

"A couple of the violins were pretty good, and the clarinets got in the way... Oh, by the way, after we break up, you're going to..."

You have to remember to pay the ticket.

Your new noise ticket is being sent to me again, and failure to pay will affect your credibility.

……

But she didn't have time to finish, because her hand was suddenly grabbed.

Immediately afterwards, someone broke her shoulder vigorously, and the goblet in her hand was also thrown out violently, hitting the wall and shattering.

In the silent night, the cracking sound was very clear.

The light red liquid slowly slid down the dark green wall, dripping drop by drop into the bullet holes left by Sherlock.

Converged into a small stream of water, meandering down.

Sherlock pinched her slender chin with his hand, and the tiny ripples in the gray lake of eyes finally turned into waves.

—he was no longer calm.

Shen Shen's eyes are like the sea before the tsunami.

Ludwig had never seen Sherlock's expression like this before, and was frightened by his terrifying eyes for a moment.

She held her breath, her eyes widened, her long eyelashes like the wings of a clamped butterfly, trembling with sudden fear.

"Emotions are indeed not my area... She is fickle, unpredictable, and full of lies."

They were so close that Sherlock could see every tiny change in her eyes.

"However, just because feelings are not my area, no matter how legitimate and reasonable your argument for breaking up is, even if we have a thousand reasons to choose to part ways—"

He spoke softly:

"—I don't accept either."

Sherlock moved closer to her and kissed her cold lips.

He didn't leave, he just stuck to her lips and said:

"I don't accept it... so you'd better get all your thoughts like this out of your mind completely and completely."

"..."

Ludwig struggled in his arms, opened his mouth, and wanted to say something.

But Sherlock didn't give her a chance, and when she opened her mouth, she kissed it again.

This time it was a deep kiss.

Just like what Sherlock said in the hospital in the morning - "There are more possibilities, angles, strengths, and frequencies for comforting."

……

He exerted more and more force on her shoulders and waist, and it hurt more and more, Ludwig had to lean back under his kiss.

And behind it is a soft sofa.

"Stop, Sherlock."

She tilted her head to avoid his kiss, her arms were restrained by him, and her fingers had no choice but to grab the sofa behind her.

What responded to her was his indifferent kiss.

"I said stop... I still have something to say, uh, I still have something to say..."

"..."

Sherlock slightly moved away from her lips:

"I know what you're going to say... but you'd better not say anything right now."

He looked into her dark eyes, calm and indifferent.

Even the shirt and the neckline are not messed up at all... It is impossible to tell that the person who kissed her fiercely just now is him.

"No, don't say it now."

He suddenly smiled at her:

"Never mention it to me, never let them interfere with your judgment, and never think about it again... because they can never be implemented."