Silent guardian

Mora imagined the scene of their goodbye countless times in her mind, but each time it ended in Sherlock's silence. She really couldn't think of what Sherlock would say, or maybe he wouldn't say anything. Their relationship is still It's the same as before, and more likely, it will be worse.

Mora waited for Sherlock for two hours. During these two hours, it was like someone roasting her heart on coals. The suffering was unimaginable, but everyone who had hoped for someone But they all have a deep understanding.

Once again, she realized that Sherlock had had a considerable effect on her.

Sherlock only appeared after Mrs. Hudson and Watson left. He was still wearing the standard long trench coat and dark purple scarf, the same as when Maura first saw him outside the laboratory door.The only thing that surprised her was that he was holding a box of Cpelisling egg tarts in his hand, or the green grape flavor she had treated him to.

"Sorry, I don't know what to buy for you. When I passed by Cpelisling, I bought some by the way. The taste may have changed a bit, because I changed a pastry chef today."

"Thank you." Mora stared at him, with bruises under her eyes caused by lack of sleep, some wrinkles on her lips due to lack of water, and the collar of her shirt was a bit messy, as if she had just retired from the battlefield.

"Is it better now?" Sherlock looked at Mora's bandaged left arm, pursed his lips, and said to himself, "You should be recovering well, and you will be discharged from the hospital in a day or two. However, I still recommend that you stay in the hospital for observation for a few more days, this acute paralysis virus may have some sequelae, such as,,,,,,, I'm sorry."

"I know." Mora laughed. "Although I will lose my job as coroner, I think it would be nice to change jobs."

Even though she said so, she felt somewhat regretful. She missed those scenes in the laboratory very much. It was only her alone or only she and Sherlock. That kind of tranquility was hard to find outside.

"It's not necessarily impossible." Sherlock put the egg tart on the cabinet next to the hospital bed, then sat down beside Mora's bed, and thought about his lines, "I have a friend who is engaged in the study of ancient Chinese. His assistant resigned for a while, maybe I can introduce you there."

Sherlock's speech speed was much slower than usual, as if he had racked his brains to come up with lines that didn't fit his style. Mora could hear the comfort in his words and couldn't help but smile.

"Sherlock." Moura looked straight into those eyes, "Thank you, your words made me feel a lot better. As for work, I want to take a break first. The smell of Ma Fulin suddenly disappeared in the air. Let me I really can't get used to it."

"Oh, good." Sherlock leaned back on the chair and stopped talking.

The air seemed to be stagnant, the nurses outside the window were coming and going, and the seconds were ticking on the clock.

Mora turned her gaze back from the window and said suddenly, "I'm not Jasmine."

Unexpectedly, Mora would be so direct, Sherlock froze for a moment, "Ah, I know."

"When did it start?"

"For the first time, in the laboratory, you put the instrument in the direction of your right hand as much as possible. Jasmine prefers to use her left hand. Although she is not left-handed, her left hand was once broken, so she left this habit. .”

Unexpectedly, she got this answer, and Mo La felt like she was being joked.

"So, you were already suspicious when you first met me?"

"What do you think?" Sherlock raised his eyebrows, "It's just that I deleted those as garbage, but then you started to show your cooking skills, you know, Jasmine is not a person who is good at cooking, and then You are involved in the graffiti case again, I think you are tired of it, it is like stuffing a college student into the body of a primary school student, facing those ABCDs every day, you are obviously very smart, but you have to pretend to be ignorant, this is really a thing fatal thing."

"Is this considered a compliment?" Mo La smiled, "However, I'm sorry about Jasmine's matter..."

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked. "Where is the real Molly?"

"I don't know." Mora shook her head, "I never knew where they went."

"They?" Sherlock grasped this sensitive word and frowned, "This is not the first time you have been to many places"

"Yes." Mora nodded, looking out of the window with a lonely look in her eyes, "It's like a bus that keeps moving forward, never knowing when it will arrive, let alone when the next stop will be. Where?"

Sherlock was silent again. He found that his calmness and sharpness could only be used on the case. Faced with this state, it didn't work at all. He couldn't speak any words, and he didn't store a single emotional word in his brain.

Mora noticed Sherlock's flickering eyes, so she changed the topic. After all, this topic is so heavy that it is not suitable for discussion in such an atmosphere.

"Will you care?"

"what"

"I, occupy Jasmine's body."

Sherlock frowned, and put his index finger between his brows, "Although it's unbelievable, until now, I can't give any explanation for this matter. I'm not a policeman, let alone a judge. This situation is far beyond me. I have no right to judge whether it is right or wrong, and I have no reason to judge you."

Sherlock's thinking is still so clear, and his attitude is so clearly stated, neither good nor bad, as usual, it belongs to the mode of getting along with Mora and Sherlock.

This is good, Mora comforted herself, it has not become bad, it belongs to her past, and the memory about Sherlock has not been invalidated.

"Sherlock, I don't want to be Jasmine Amber anymore."

Inheriting someone else's life is very painful, especially when trying hard to conceal one's own color.

"I know." Sherlock unexpectedly expressed the greatest understanding.

"Then who can I be?"

is she jasmine or mora

She never delved into this issue before, because she has been living a life like running water, and it will become what it looks like in any container it flows into, but now, she wants a fixed posture, because she Facing Sherlock.

Sherlock remained silent. He stared into Mora's eyes, as if he saw a desert where not a single blade of grass grew. "You can be yourself. Restore your original appearance, without wearing a white coat, without wearing high heels, without braiding your hair, and even...well, without brushing your teeth or washing your face." Sherlock wanted to say something emotional words, but when they came out of his mouth, they were far off the track.

Mo La had some black lines, "Forget it, I'll just be Jasmine."

There was another short silence, and the two looked at each other and smiled.

A smile is the joy that comes from the heart, and it is a kind of magic that can infect people.

All embarrassment, all doubts, dissipated in such a smile.

Mo La asked nervously, "We are still friends, right?"

"Oh, of course." Sherlock nodded, "So, what should I call you."

"Mola."

"Well, Mora, I should say thank you, thank you for saving me."

Mora didn't answer, that kind of gratitude made her feel unfamiliar, as if this was the first meeting between Mora and Sherlock, and the name Jasmine was cut out of her life from this moment.