[Shen Xia] When Watson has Twitter

#黑桃姐姐的同人文——流生如梦#

I was a little scared to go upstairs and see Sherlock. In fact, even when I knew that "I" was dead, I didn't panic as much as I do now.

It took me 10 minutes to digest the fact that Sherlock came back, 5 minutes to focus on Mrs. Hudson putting the gun back and calming down with cookies, and another 5 minutes to float up little by little.Although I am very convenient to move now, I can even skip these few steps directly, but I still stubbornly climb up a little bit.

Sherlock's expression was so pale just now, which made it difficult for me to face it.

Sherlock didn't close the door, so I didn't have to go through the wall anymore, and when I went in, the first thing I saw was Sherlock sitting on the carpet. , I can clearly feel his sharp emotions.

Cold, piercing like a knife.

He doesn't sit well, and looks a bit embarrassed.I floated beside him, then crouched down, and saw Sherlock's calm face.His fingertips touched the dark red blood stains on the sofa and rubbed them lightly. I could see him pursing his lips into a pale color.

I squatted beside him and reached out to touch him, but I couldn't touch him. I just stared at him quietly.

The sharpness of the emotion faded slowly, followed by waves of grief that I did not feel in Mycroft, Lestrade, or Mrs. Hudson, because In this sadness, regret was mixed, and gradually, the emotion that seemed to be dark blue became more and more obvious, Sherlock lowered his head slightly, and buried himself in the sofa.

He is grieving and regretting.Even though I don't resent him.

"If only I could let you hear me." I stayed beside him, looking at him, and muttered to myself.

Mir came down from upstairs when he heard the noise, and when he saw Sherlock, he ran over wagging his tail.I stood up and took a step back - I don't like Mir walking through me even if I'm a ghost - Mir threw himself directly at Sherlock's side, and Sherlock's long arms stretched out and gently hugged Mir in arms.

"They killed Redbeard, and they wanted to kill me... Now John is dead too." Sherlock's voice was low, as beautiful as a cello.

Mir couldn't understand him, staring at Sherlock with grape eyes, sticking out his tongue to lick his face.

I saw that Sherlock shed tears, rolled out of those amber-like eyes, and slid from the corners of the eyes to his chin, which was breathtakingly beautiful.

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Sherlock moved back to 221B Baker Street. He had already paid 20 years' rent, and Mrs. Hudson was happy to let him live back.

But the good lady spent days complaining that Sherlock had concealed her fact that he was not dead, and one evening, I heard Mrs. Hudson muttering that it would be nice if I faked my death too.

Of course, we all know this is impossible.

Sherlock has been going out early and coming back late recently. Although I hope to stay with him, I will obviously be overwhelmed by all kinds of emotions when I leave this house, so I will stay in the house and wait for Sherlock to come back. Stay together, or sleep in the wall.

Until one day, Sherlock came back very late, which disturbed me who was sleeping in the wall.Although the soul doesn't need sleep, I feel comfortable being in a dark place.

I moved away from the wall, but saw Sherlock lying on the window, holding a rope in his hand and pulling it up.I'm very curious, although Sherlock is always tinkering with some weird things, but the movement is a bit loud now, so I floated over to watch.

It was very dark in the house, but the street lamps could still provide some light.

Sherlock had already pulled up a huge black box as I floated by, and it looked huge and heavy, it looked like a... coffin.

I was taken aback, but Sherlock's next move confirmed my thoughts.

He reached out and wiped the dust off the thing, then opened the door, and after making sure Mrs. Hudson didn't notice anything unusual, he closed the door carefully and locked it.You know we never locked the door before.He rolled up the rug, pushed it aside, then stood up and walked over to the black box.

"John, I'm sorry, but I want to try anyway, even if I've never believed it before."

His words sent chills down my spine, and when I looked at the black box, I suddenly felt a strange sense of disobedience.

This is my coffin, the buried coffin.

Now, there can be no doubt that Sherlock had dug it up in the middle of the night and had it transported all the way back to Baker Street.

How on earth did he manage to walk the streets with such a big thing without being noticed?

"Mycroft, turn off your monitor, or I'll put all the drugs I have in my arms." Sherlock's next words cleared my doubts, and Mycroft helped him — although it may have been forced — and his words made me angry, sure enough Sherlock still has drugs here, and it sounds like a lot.

In less than ten seconds, I saw the little light on the fireplace disappear, and only Mr. Skull's dark eyes stared at us.

I don't know what Sherlock is going to do, his mood is also as black as ink and he can't see anything.I was a little scared, but I didn't want to leave, so I curled up on my armchair - with "my" blood on it - and stared at Sherlock.

I saw that Sherlock had taken off his suit jacket and was only wearing a purple shirt, which wrapped his entire chest and looked ascetic and sensual.Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he took out a piece of paper with densely packed small characters on it, which seemed to be taken from a page of a book, and then took out a small knife from his pocket.

Then he slit his thumb, and I had a brief yellow flash of pain in my head.

"What are you doing!" I yelled.

But obviously, Sherlock couldn't hear me at all.

He held the paper with his unwounded hand, and slowly drew figures on the floor with his bloody thumb. It was a very strange shape, with perfect circles and strange lines, and there were things I didn't recognize. Word.Sherlock used the knife to re-cut the wound from time to time to ensure that the blood flowed again.

What he did scared me and made me angry.

I don't like him hurting himself, never.

At this time, Sherlock stopped his actions, threw the paper and the knife aside, then stood up and walked to the side of the coffin, moved to this side with the black coffin in his arms, and then placed the coffin on the figure he had just drawn.

He stretched out his hand and placed it on the coffin. There were bright red blood stains on his pale fingers.He closed his eyes and collected himself, his palms seemed to be groping for some treasure, then he turned and went to the kitchen and brought a flask.

Inside was pale yellow powder. He poured the powder on the coffin, picked up the lighter and lit it.

"Do you want to burn me?" I was a little stunned, "Actually, I don't like cremation very much."

But Sherlock still didn't answer me, he stared blankly at the jumping flames, his palms never leaving the coffin.He seemed to be expecting something, and I could feel the bright red in his emotions.

But as the flame jumped, weakened, and extinguished, there was nothing.

The bright red in his mood slowly disappeared, and then it was pitch black again.Sherlock stood up, turned and walked to the fireplace, and then, suddenly, punched him.

I could see blood on his hands, still bleeding.

I think I guessed what he was going to do, he wanted to bring me back to life, what he did just now was like an evil ritual.But obviously, he failed, because the "I" in the coffin didn't move, I think, even if "I" became a zombie, he would be happier than now.

"You need to be bandaged, Sherlock, you can't do this to yourself." I'm still talking to myself, in fact, I don't want to die, but some things have no other way than to accept and accept fate.

But this time I got a response to my soliloquy, Sherlock's neck suddenly tightened, he turned his head sharply, and then I saw that his eyes were in focus.

And the focal length is me on the single sofa.

I was a little stunned, I was used to being ignored after being a ghost for a long time, this sudden look made me panic for a moment.

But right away, I realized what was going on.

Sherlock can see me, he can see.

"John," I saw Sherlock walking toward me, and I heard him call my name, "I'm not completely defeated, at least, here you are."

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-Comment:

-Harry: Sofa!

-Harry: Oh my god, is this article originally a supernatural article?What's up with this weird alchemy-like thing?My brother's psycho roommate turns out to be a part-time witch?

-SH: wizard

-Donovan: I find you, geek, quite entertaining

-Anthea [Author]: As a good author, I won’t let them be separated for too long, although I can’t do what I love to do, but at least I can see each other~=v=

-JW: Hey, I always feel a little silly talking to myself all the time

-SH: Dear John, you're not supposed to be the smart one

-Harry: Brother, have you stopped refuting...

-JW: Just get used to it =A= And besides rebutting, I have a better way to deal with him

-Irene: Like deducting his sweets?

-JW: No, I will use another method this time

-Anthea [Author]: Good doctor, I saw that you ate all the fried dumplings by yourself

-SH: John you can't do this, it's childish

-JW: Talk like you're not childish!

The author has something to say: [Calm down?Calm down girl!Throwing a landmine; Dong Yuying Changge threw a landmine]=3333333333=jumping to catch it

Welfare claw machine party:

This picture is the wallpaper of my computer + mobile phone, which completely reflects my mood for a long time =A=

#Yesterday Twitter finishing#

Harry: Oh, my poor brother JW, if you really died because of Sherlock SH, I would definitely brew your ashes into coffee and put them on the big Sherlock Holmes ML table with Sherlock-flavored sandwiches...MrsHudsom The action of raising the gun is very handsome~

-Comment:

-MH: Anthea, blacklist this woman!

-JW: O'Harry, even if I die, you all have to be fine SH you have to live well, God what I'm talking about please ignore me

-SH: ...no

-MH: LS, you mistyped my initials! ! PS: Just to make a statement, I don't have pica.

-GL: Yeah, you don't have pica, you're just a severe partial eclipse.Also, going to bed soon, don't eat so many sweets!

-harry: Oh, of course I spelled it right, ML.Obviously good Inspector GL is the one who counts the words of the two of you ~ Cookie and Scone testify! └(^o^)┘Brother, although I have given up on your question above, you should learn from Inspector How to suppress a Sherlock Holmes! JW I think SW is much better than SH, what do you think? Anthea

-SH: Time will tell if it's JW&SW or SH&JH

-SH: Harry, but from this point of view, it proves that your brother and I are a perfect match whether dead or alive...JW, right JohnMH dear brother, if you continue to eat sweets like this, I will mourn your scale sooner or later Give my regards to your dentist and wish you all the best for your root canal treatment tomorrow Σ(￣.￣

[ML bursts into laughter in an instant, the brain hole is so big~]