Silent guardian

When you live in 221B Baker Street, the first thing you have to think about is the bed, but Maura was thrown into his bedroom by Sherlock before she had time to think about it.That action-oriented detective had already vacated the entire house for Mora, and had prepared everything in it, from computers, clothes to facial cleanser and toothpaste. A reclining chair is placed in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, and there are soft pillows and cushions on the chair.

"You bought all these?"

Mora couldn't believe her eyes, it was like seeing a monster kill Ultraman.

"Oh, yes, I went to Barts Hospital to help you pay this year's salary." Sherlock took out a brand new credit card from his pocket and handed it to Mora, "I only used a small part, and the password is yours. ,,,,,, the date when the home was bombed, the rest is all here, if you need anything else, just write me a list."

"That, I,,,,,," Mo La opened her mouth, but she didn't know what to say, it was too sudden, all this changed too fast for her, she was not used to being taken care of like this , she is used to handling her own affairs by herself, what's worse is that she is not sure about the meaning behind Sherlock's series of actions, which makes her feel panic.

"Stop talking nonsense like thanks, and don't think too much about other things. What you need now is time." Sherlock interrupted Moura with a faint smile on his lips, "Go to rest early , Mo La, I'm downstairs, what's the matter, you just have to shout at the window, and I can hear you."

downstairs?Mo La was taken aback. It was a basement. She had heard Mrs. Hudson mention it. Because it was too damp, she hadn't rented it out.

"Isn't it too humid in there?"

She would feel uneasy if Sherlock was "wronged" to that kind of place because of her coming.

"It doesn't matter, anyway, I don't sleep very much." Sherlock disagreed, "I need my brain to stay awake to deal with emergencies."

His body is like a bomb, which can be ignited by any spark, and often for a case, he can not eat or drink for several days, completely immersed in the thrill of chasing the truth.

Maybe he really doesn't mind this, Mora thought, if it wasn't voluntary, no one could make Sherlock wrong him.

"So,,,,,, good night, Sherlock."

Sherlock bowed to his side in a gentlemanly manner and exited the room, closing the door thoughtfully.

Mora lay on the bed for a while, then sat on the recliner for a while, then she got up and walked around the room a few times, touching this and touching that, curious about everything here, she only remembered Sherlock had stayed here before, and there was an inexplicable joy in his heart, as if the air was filled with his breath.

"This is his room." She stared at the floor-to-ceiling windows and muttered to herself, then buried herself in the soft quilt and closed her eyes in the silence.

A night without dreams.

He didn't see Sherlock when he opened the door in the morning, but only saw a note he left on the table.

【I'm rushing to see Lestrade right now. I've asked Mrs. Hudson for your three meals. It may take a little time this time. You can do what you want, except go out.

-SH】

"Oh, you're awake." Mrs. Hudson came up with a sandwich and hot milk. She was wearing a laurel purple coat today, and she looked much better than before.

"How are you feeling these days?" Mora asked concerned, "Does your hip still hurt?"

"Much better." Mrs. Hudson smiled. "Thanks to your medicine, although the juice is smelly and bitter, it is very effective. The most important thing is that it is less irritating to the stomach. I am very happy."

Mora smiled and sat down in front of the sofa, picked up the sandwich and ate it in small bites. Mrs. Hudson sat down in front of her. Although there were still two people in the room and the same silence, she felt that she had lost something.

"It's so quiet, isn't it?" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. "Although he always makes the house uneasy when Sherlock is around, I actually like it when he's around. Makes you feel alone."

Mo La glanced around, glanced over the wall and landed on the music stand in front of the window, there was an unfinished piece of music on it, the composer left, and the piece lost its soul.

"He's always like this, impatient, and once he encounters any novel case, he forgets everything." Mrs. Hudson stood up and asked, "Honey, I'll clean up later, You just rest."

"Don't bother." Mo La shouted to Mrs. Hudson's back.

But Mrs. Hudson had gone downstairs and didn't hear Maura's words at all, and even if she did, she wouldn't take it to heart, because in her eyes, it was purely a little girl's shyness.

Mora is not a person who likes to be idle, especially when she thinks of Sherlock running around outside, she can't sit still. She flips through the books in Sherlock's collection, trying to calm herself down.

After a while, Mrs. Hudson came upstairs again and took away the plate and milk glass.

"Honey, if you feel bored, you can come down and watch TV with me. The makeup show hosted by Connie Prince is very good, but it's a pity that she died two days ago, but her show is still available. She I will teach you how to match colors." Mrs. Hudson looked at the clothes on Maura, "The colors are good, but it would be better if the inner shirt was changed to a nude color."

"Oh?" Didn't you buy this?

Mora froze for a moment, remembering Sherlock's expression when he handed her the clothes in the hospital, she couldn't help but smile.

She seems to be getting duller.

Mrs. Hudson was called away by a phone call. She gave Maura a sorry look and went downstairs, vaguely talking about the wedding.Then, Mora heard the sound of the door being opened and closed.

Snow began to fall outside the window, it was snow in London, but it was no different from the snow in other places. Mrs. Hudson, holding a dark green umbrella, hurried across the sidewalk, and stopped at the opposite side of the street. a taxi.

In 221B, Mora was completely left alone. She looked around the whole room, and finally chose to sit down in front of the French window, picked up Sherlock's unfinished piece, and began to write on another piece of paper.

She writes, stops, and whenever she looks out of the window, the figure of Sherlock galloping in the wind appears in her mind.

The wall fire was burning quietly, and Mora's attention stopped at the tip of her pen, forgetting the time and place.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Mora raised her head, ignoring it.

It may be because no one opened the door, and there was no movement outside the door, but soon, the door was pushed open, and then someone walked upstairs, the hard leather rubbed against the floor, and the pace was slow and leisurely.

"The tea is still hot, please help yourself." Mo La didn't look back, and continued with her actions.

The man stopped in front of the sofa, and Mora remembered something and stopped immediately, "No, no, that's where he sleeps, don't sit on it, you can sit on that separate sofa, that's John's, I I don't think he would mind."

Then, footsteps sounded again, moving a few steps to the right.

"It seems that Sherlock has taken good care of you." An elegant voice said.

The author has something to say:

James is back, lol.