Forced to follow the love line by the plot [Zhongyingmei]

She sat up from the bed and kept looking around at the ornaments around her.

On the off-white wallpaper, the spiers of eucalyptus leaves meander upwards.The curtains were not drawn, but because the windows were not closed tightly, there was wind blowing in.The lamp on the work table in the corner was still on, and she forgot to turn it off last night.

The furnishings here are completely consistent with her memory from a day ago, without any change.

really.she thinks.I just had a dream.

I don't remember where I saw it, "Dreams are a continuation of real life."

Could it be because she thinks about it every day and dreams at night, that's why she...

The young girl suddenly thought of something, and very rarely, her face turned red all of a sudden.

Do not!

A big NO seemed to be selected and then ctrl+v*, it instantly turned into countless letters circling in Qinghe's mind repeatedly.

Focused eyes, wet//kiss, half-forced and half-submissive groans and groans from the mouth.

The process is really like watching a 3D movie in a cinema, except that the protagonist is herself.

To be honest, Qinghe doesn't think this is really just a dream.After all, there are always obvious logic gaps in some places of dreams, and some key places will be handled very vaguely.

But these characteristics did not exist at all in that scene, which...

But she won't admit that she really has some inexplicable overstepping imaginations about Sherlock!

Qinghe decided to give up thinking about this problem for the time being, and first walked around the house a few times to see if he could find anything.

Just do it.Anyway, nothing happened today.

The girl quickly changed her clothes and opened the door.

She looked at the watch on her wrist, and saw that the hour and minute hands were pointing to 10 at the same time.

Good boy, it seems that she got up too late today.I hope I don't meet Sherlock later, otherwise it will be embarrassing.

After all, she could fully imagine the tone of voice that Sherlock would speak.

"Did the University of London teach you that the day's plan is in the morning? It must be that your little goldfish brain is drunk with whiskey, which paralyzes your thinking and senses-go wash up, and maybe you can save some time. to finish your homework."

Qinghe originally thought that Sherlock was a little too ruthless in his words.But when she witnessed the scene where he was talking to other people, this evil thought disappeared automatically like dewdrops evaporating in the sun.

Qinghe, who is not a native Westerner, has to say a forgod'ssake from the bottom of his heart at this moment.Sherlock's arrogant sharpness is fully displayed when he is not facing Qinghe. She even saw him cry a girl before.

Of course, it may be that it is difficult for him to really notice the feelings of others other than logic-this is another level of social barriers.

In short, after witnessing such a scene, she was completely indifferent to the indifferent words that Sherlock occasionally uttered.Once before, when she asked Sherlock for an advanced mathematics test question, the other party didn't laugh at her, but tried to answer it patiently.

Qinghe can only draw such a conclusion. Of course, this conclusion is somewhat narcissistic in the eyes of others.

He seemed to care a lot about her feelings, and generally would not deliberately use any language to belittle her.

……

After thinking about it for a long time, Qinghe felt a little hungry.I haven't eaten much since I got off work in the coffee shop yesterday, and my stomach is now making protesting sounds.

Well, let's go find something to eat—

Although it has been a while since she came here, Qinghe has to admit that she has basically never set foot in Mrs. Hudson's kitchen.

Of course, Qinghe doesn't know how to cook - in the many worlds he has traversed so far, he has basically never encountered a situation where he has to cook by himself.Either the "suiter" is rich and powerful, with luxury cars and servants; or the "suiter" can cook;

Having said that, soft rice is really delicious...

In this world, first of all, she can go to uni* to solve it directly, or go to the store, anyway, basically she has never solved her food needs at 221b.

Therefore, when Qinghe walked in, there was a kind of unreality in his heart for no reason.

It is said that Mrs. Hudson has many treasures in her kitchen.

"...I don't know if Sherlock took that eyeball out of the dishwasher." The girl murmured in a low voice, but to be honest, she didn't know what a dishwasher looked like, so there was nothing she could do to help.

This time someone answered her, "When did I put my eyeballs in the dishwasher?"

This is a rhetorical question.

The other party continued in the next second: "How many times have I said it, you still can't remember-it's a glass ball, and it can temporarily stop the pulse when placed under the armpit."

The voice from behind poured into Qinghe's eardrums, and it sounded so beating despite being clear.Who else but Sherlock?

Sherlock appeared from behind her, and the positions of the two of them slightly coincided with Qing He's dream.This recognition made Qinghe's exposed white back of the neck feel like it was about to burn.

God, what's wrong with her, she's almost not like herself.

When Qinghe turned around, she subconsciously reached out to touch it.

"Okay, okay," her tone was a little vague, "It's not just the eyeballs, the dishwasher is very important, I don't want to even smell like rotten corpse water in the teacup."

"Do you want to drink tea?" His tone couldn't tell if it was a test.

Qing He didn't think too much about it, and replied directly, "It's okay."

The man with pale eyes in front of me seemed a little disappointed with Qinghe's answer, and Qinghe also noticed this, so she immediately changed her words: "I think so. What's wrong?"

Sherlock's expression changed a bit.The remaining shadows on that somewhat pale face disappeared, and it was covered by warm emotions, as if a child got the answer he wanted and suddenly jumped up for joy.

It's just that his language didn't reveal this, on the contrary, it was equally calm: "Then you are honored to have a cup of tea made by Sherlock Holmes."

This time it was Qinghe's turn to be surprised, what's going on? !

When did he do such a thing?

He won't assassinate me, will he?

But... It seems that it's not his turn to spend so much time in poisoning the tea.

Holding such doubts, Qinghe kept staring at Sherlock, wanting to know what kind of medicine he was selling in his gourd.The detective first opened the top cabinet, took out the iron box for storing tea, and opened it with his long and slender hands.Qinghe saw that the spout of the stainless steel tea kettle on the stove had started to smoke. She had never noticed this in her life before, which made her stare at the white smoke for a while.

Taking this opportunity, the interior of the kitchen, which she hadn't had time to look at before, was engraved in her mind little by little.

Sherlock stared at the teacup equally intently, and the white steam from the hot water rose until his face was slightly blurred.

Although I saw it with my own eyes, I still couldn't believe that Sherlock would have such a domestic side.

Because this is actually a very ordinary thing, logically speaking, it should not be taken seriously by him.Qinghe believes that Sherlock's life does not need too many trivial things to compose, but instead—at least most people think so—should spend time fighting criminals and consulting him with the great detective detective. Career development is better.

I hope this memory will not disappear when she leaves this world at some point in the future.

Qing He's eyes were fixed on Sherlock's extended hand, which was still holding a teacup.

"What kind of tea is this?"

"black tea."

Qinghe took it without looking carefully, and took a sip, but found that the expected sweetness and mellowness did not appear, but a bit astringent.

"This doesn't look like black tea, does it?" Qinghe actually smiled, staring at the cup noodles for a while, then got up and stood in front of the top cabinet, and looked at the tea leaves inside.

She seemed to have discovered something extraordinary.

Couldn't Sherlock recognize the type of tea?

There are no labels on several identical iron boxes, so it is normal to be confused.

Qinghe looked at Sherlock, "Why don't you try drinking it?" But Qinghe added some rock sugar in it so that it wouldn't be too bitter.

"But... what are you doing here?" Qing He looked at the expression on his face, and finally asked this question that had troubled her for a long time.

These words seemed to be a switch to change the atmosphere, and the originally peaceful atmosphere was broken in an instant, and Qinghe glimpsed different emotions from Sherlock's usual indifferent face.

It was strange that he didn't answer right away.

But Qinghe's curiosity, like the ever-simmering flame in the winter fireplace, will not be stranded because of this moment of silence.On the contrary, the girl's deep and beautiful eyes have been staring at him in front of her, and her shining pupils have not moved away at all, as if she is determined to want him to speak.

Under Qinghe's incomparably concerned attention, Sherlock actually made an "excessive" movement - one of his hands clenched his fist and moved up to half cover his lips, and immediately his vocal cords vibrated a little, from There was an unclear tone similar to a cough in his throat, maybe he was using it to cover up something.So much so——Qinghe saw that the tips of his ears were stained crimson due to the heat.

Sherlock does have many secrets.Qinghe understands this.

So she decided to let him go.

Even if the frantic questioning in a very unpleasant tone would increase the possibility of her leaving this world as soon as possible, but——the proud detective in front of her would be hurt, and she didn't want to do that.

Qinghe doesn't have any curiosity about other people's reasons for hesitation.

"Then you are busy first, I'm leaving?" Qinghe pointed to the direction of the door.

"—I'm cooking." He finally spoke.

Sherlock really didn't want to admit it: his heart was beating much faster than usual when he said it.Could it be that investigating the scene of the crime, having a deadly run with the murderer, or completing an experiment that is difficult for others to understand but is too interesting for him, is it not as good as a daily cooking?

He probably had many arguments to support his argument, but the facts speak louder than words.

Sure enough, the girl greeted him suspiciously.

She looked around, only to realize that the oven had been turning.

Qinghe:?

"Your thinking is really slow." Sherlock said again, and this time he finally found himself more or less, "I'm making pizza."

If what Sherlock said the first time made Qinghe feel that she was hallucinating, then what she said the second time made Qinghe feel that her cognition was slowly being reduced to ashes like the Notre Dame de Paris that was ignited by the fire. .

"What are you... what?!" Qing He suddenly raised his voice, his eyes widened slightly, and the look inside was unbelievable as he expected.

"I'm not laughing at you, Sherlock." Qinghe said the truth, "I'm thankful that your work doesn't poison me to death."

She didn't believe that Sherlock would really make something good, it must be a biochemical weapon that could fully reflect his anti-social traits.

Qinghe's reaction didn't make him feel offended, on the contrary, he raised his eyebrows with a little arrogant look on his face, "Did someone tell you not to talk too much? Every step of my It's all precise, and it's done according to the recipe. When it's time, you don't regret it."

After hearing this, the girl looked suspiciously at the oven in the corner, then turned her gaze back to Sherlock, "I don't believe it. You don't look like the kind of person who follows the rules. Instead..." she said As he spoke, his voice lowered and disappeared.

"instead?"

"On the contrary, it looks like it deserves a beating." Qinghe said this deliberately.

Taking this opportunity, she took a serious look at the table next to the kitchen stove. Even if there was accidentally spilled flour on it, there were still several scales, even scales and test tubes came out.The red liquid in the test tube was tomato juice, and the pineapple, ham, and mushrooms used to make the main ingredients of the pizza were cut into small even pieces and neatly stacked on the balance.

Of course, it is very likely that he cut too much, and this is what is left.

With this table, Qinghe roughly imagined the scene when the detective first learned how to make pizza.The famous detective who has always been as precise as a machine, never makes mistakes, and doesn't show his emotions easily, stares at a common recipe that can be seen everywhere in a daze.Then, trying to use my overly powerful comprehension ability to guess the real meaning of the steps is too much.

But cute.

"I really hope Mrs. Hudson can see this scene." Qing He smiled and said this sincerely.

Sherlock said nothing, just looked at her.

"If she sees that dear Sherlock has really taken a big step as an ordinary human being, she will definitely be moved to the point of tears." Qinghe imitated Mrs. Hudson wiping her tears, her movements were exaggerated, but she was very successful To the purpose of making people laugh.

Qinghe didn't ask Sherlock why he suddenly did something that didn't fit his identity. In fact, she never asked the reason for other people's choices.This is good, it feels like a friend of his, and occasionally he will pass the time with him and share the happiness together.

This recognition made Qinghe feel more at ease than ever before.After all, even if some people say that "lovers can be found again, but friends are hard to find", in Qinghe's heart, these are still two feelings that cannot be rashly compared together.Friends can become lovers, but those who truly love cannot just be friends.

"Repeat again." Sherlock said suddenly.

"Huh?" Qing He turned his head to look at him.From the detective's extremely clear pale eyes, she immediately understood what he was talking about.

His demands were always hard to refuse.

"Dear Sherlock." Qinghe repeated.

They both leaned against the edge of the table at the same time, very close together.The black-haired girl's hand rested lightly on the edge of the table just like that, Qinghe had just finished saying that when her hand was covered by another person's.

"I just want to hold you."