Bad days as neighbors with Sherlock Holmes

After Elena tied her hair up again, she stretched out her hand and pulled the tie, trying to make it a little tighter.

After pulling it a little and confirming that it would not fall, she was relieved.

This lavender tie was bought at a grocery store next to Regent's Park when Elena was off work one day.

At that time, she thought this hair tie was very beautiful, with light purple satin and check pattern, so she paid for it and put it in her pocket. She often used it to tie her hair, but she didn't expect this hair tie to be used so easy to fall apart...

Well, Elena admitted, she felt a little careless.

She secretly spurned her clumsiness today, and then looked at Holmes who helped her pick up the things.

"Let's go, Mr. Holmes," Elena said shyly, "I..."

Then she met Holmes' eyes, she froze for a moment, and forgot her words.

For a moment, everything in his mind disappeared, only those cold and gentle gray eyes seemed to be left.

Elena felt that, in fact, it would be nice if time stopped at this moment.

...Wait, what was she going to say just now?

Oh yes, going back.

She said, "Let's go back, Mr. Holmes."

Holmes took a deep breath and nodded.

The two walked under the dim streetlights and headed towards Baker Street.

Picking a slightly leisurely afternoon, Sherlock Holmes knocked on the door of Diogenes Club.

After the waiter opened the door, he walked sideways into this familiar club, and walked to a room upstairs in a familiar way.

Sherlock Holmes took hold of the handle and gently unscrewed it.

It really was his elder brother Mycroft who appeared at this moment all the year round.

"Oh, Sherlock," his elder brother didn't seem to look him in the eye, but just sat on his high stool by the window, observing every move of the crowd downstairs, "you're finally here."

He said this as if he expected Sherlock to come, "Let's see what this is?"

Sherlock shook his head.

Instead of sitting on another high stool as usual, he sat on the sofa uncharacteristically.

Mycroft didn't hear anything for a long time, turned around and saw Sherlock half leaning on the sofa with his eyes closed, and sighed helplessly.

He slowly got off the high stool that was deliberately raised, walked to the sofa without any haste, and sat down. The sofa was dented a lot with his movements.

The waiter came in to bring some tea and snacks, Mycroft nodded, and he backed out.

Then Mycroft took Sherlock's tea from the tray and put it in front of him, then put his own tea in front of him, and slowly took a few sugar cubes from the small pot beside him, and rested. Locke opened his eyes.

The afternoon sun shines in through the transparent glass, and today is a rare sunny day in London.

Sherlock stared at the fog in front of him without saying a word.

"What's the matter, Sherlock?" Mycroft stirred the tea in his cup, "You didn't come to me for tea, did you?"

He said with a smile and a hint of ridicule, "After all, there is only one consulting detective in the world, and he is a busy man."

Sherlock was a little helpless at his teasing, but they both knew that was the truth.

He wanted to get away from the family, so he didn't contact anyone in the family very often.

Even if Mycroft did hold an important position in the government, he didn't think much of going to him for help, and even if some things were actually clearer if he came to Mycroft and asked him, he didn't come much.

Sherlock was silent for a moment before whispering, "...I might really fall in love with someone."

When he said this, his usually serious and rigorous eyes showed a little confusion.

Mycroft laughed unsurprisingly.

He finished laughing to himself before looking at Sherlock, "Miss Molson?"

Although it is an interrogative sentence, it uses a definite tone.

Sherlock didn't answer, but acquiesced to the answer.

Mycroft smiled and shook his head.

"I still remember that I reminded you a long time ago," he said, "When I saw you took her to meet me at the Simpson restaurant, I knew you must be tempted by her."

At that time, Sherlock didn't take his statement very seriously, thinking that he was just wishful thinking that the friendship between the two was love.

But Mycroft certainly knew that his younger brother had never looked at anyone so gently before, and he would even unconsciously help her out, sometimes keeping his gaze on Miss Molson for a long time.

Sherlock shook his head.

"That's different," he said with a little difficulty, "I don't know…"

"I know, I know," Mycroft waved his hand, "You told me at that time that you had some affection for her."

He took a sip of the tea in his cup slowly and said, "At that time I said, 'See yourself clearly', have you done it now?"

"I don't know," Sherlock stated, crossing his legs, "I may have fallen into the trap called 'Love'."

The pair never had anything to do with those romantic episodes that he scoffed at, the most legendary being perhaps the night they fled to Scotland Yard with him, but that wasn't romantic either.

He is very clear that at first it was only "appreciation", this feeling later turned into "liking", and now it has gradually deepened and turned into "love".

It wasn't vigorous, it was just something that fell into his memory from trivial things, and it was the corners and corners of his life that had been infiltrated in a steady stream.

But it is as clear-cut as "habit".

When he saw her, he was still occasionally dominated by the so-called impulse.

Mycroft propped his head up and looked at his brother.

"What does she—I mean, Miss Molson think?" he asked casually.

"Should have a crush on me too," Sherlock said uncertainly, meeting his elder brother's knowing eyes, but couldn't say anything.

He subconsciously touched the cigarette in his arms, but after taking it out, he remembered that smoking is not allowed here, so he put it back.

"And what are you going to do now, Sherlock?" asked Mycroft. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Sherlock replied with difficulty, "my reason tells me that I'm not the most suitable person for her."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

He smiled and made assumptions one by one, "Simply reject her? Or write a letter? Long-term estrangement? You are tempted, Sherlock. This is nothing more than the difference between a quick knife and a blunt knife."

Sherlock moved his lips, "I will probably reject her in person. She has no intention of getting married and wants to devote her energy to work, and so do I."

He went on to say, as if trying to convince himself, "I have always hated love, and it is indeed constantly interfering with my judgment, my concentration, and my logical reasoning ability. What's more, I am not a good person. Son, he will not be a good husband in the future, nor will he be a good father..."

Mycroft coughed, interrupting him.

"You've started thinking about marriage before you've gotten anywhere between you?" He asked intentionally in a little surprise.

Sherlock's face flushed slightly.

"This is a hypothesis," he tried to keep calm, "I'm just talking about the rationality of this matter..."

Caught off guard, Mycroft stood up, walked to his side, and firmly pressed his shoulder.

"Come on, Sherlock," said Mycroft, "I know the misgivings in your heart. But to be honest, if you really cared so much, why didn't you refuse her when I first reminded you?"

Sherlock subconsciously stopped.

"I didn't expect it at the time..." He defended, but felt that what he said was too pale, and the pale two knew it well.

Mycroft shook his head.

"Then you go now and reject her," he stood up and said, "I'm going to ask for a pen and paper, how about you write to her now?"

Seeing that Sherlock didn't move, Mycroft asked a little teasingly, "What else do you want to say, let's say it together, just be more straightforward. I don't plan to deal with your relationship issues while I'm working later. What, don't you want to?"

This sentence was like a loud bell, which suddenly rang in his ears, so shocking that he couldn't utter an excuse for a while.

He met Mycroft's eyes.

Yes, even though he knew it was dangerous and shouldn't exist, he still had a conniving mentality, allowing this feeling to develop into a more dangerous place, and finally entangled him tightly like a vine. heart.

Sherlock sighed.

"Well," he said resignedly, "I mean it. Mycroft, do you have any advice?"

Only then did Mycroft sit back in his seat with satisfaction.

"That's right," he said slowly, picked up the cup on the table, and took a sip.

The cold tea was extremely bitter, even with a lot of sugar added before it was still hard to swallow, almost made him spit it out subconsciously.

Mycroft swallowed the cold tea calmly, "What advice do you want?"

After meeting at Simpson's restaurant that day, Elena always seemed to see Holmes in various places.

Holmes, who used to get up around the same time as her, always showed up at the dinner table on time. Recently, when she went out, he would sit on the soft chair on the first floor and watch her go out.

Sometimes when she went downstairs to pour a pot of water, she would meet Holmes chatting with the client in the living room on the second floor, folded his hands on his knees, carefully observed the client's every move, and then understood clearly. The chest is explaining something.

Or occasionally meet Watson squatting in the stairwell, he looked at Elena with a wry smile, and explained helplessly that Holmes kicked him out again.

Elena guessed that Holmes might have encountered some difficulties again. At this moment, she could only smile helplessly and called Watson to sit upstairs with her. After a while, Holmes would come upstairs and knock on her door, and three They simply chatted in the room arranged by Elena.

During this period of time, Holmes often showed up downstairs in her office on time, waiting for her to drop by on the way back together.

He claimed to be on the way, but after so many times, it must be wrong.

This is actually a bit indescribably complicated, like a cat stretching out its paw to scratch her from time to time, bothering Elena's thoughts.

Distraught, she turned out the drawing book, poking the lower right corner of the book with the tip of the pen.

Elena raised her hand, and casually sketched the building opposite the window. As she drew, a familiar profile appeared on the paper for no apparent reason.

His outline was deep and his gaze was firm. His deep eyes could almost stab at her straight through the drawing paper.

Elena sighed.

She thought of her structural designer, who seemed to have made a lot of achievements in scripts, and recently had a part-time job, and had contributed several love stories to the theater, and an idea popped up in her mind.

When in doubt, you should seek help from more experienced people.

She threw the drawing book in her hand aside and knocked on Eric's door next door.

"Is it convenient?" she asked.

After chatting with Eric about this issue, Elena put the matter aside in a refreshed manner.

She took Eric to discuss the building structure that she was focusing on now, and how to implement these details in the subsequent construction, and then went downstairs easily, not realizing that Eric was watching her leaving, The look is quite complicated.

Eric picked up the mirror on the table and looked at himself.

The silver-white mask, the well-styled hair, and the elegant clothes are the same as usual, there is no difference.

He silently thought, does he look so much like a person who is proficient in this kind of emotional dispute?

Today is already the second person to come to him for consultation on this kind of problem.

The author has something to say: Little Brut: Yes, the first one is me.

Love counselor. Eric. Tree hole. Ruthless working machine. Itchy hands and submitted a draft to be seen. Phantom: ...

I can't help but laugh out loud as I write this, hahahahahaha

ps: Phantom has no love for Elena, he has more family affection and friendship for Elena. Thank you for the nutrient solution ww there should be a second update today (praise me praise me!

感谢在2020-10-2500:00:43~2020-10-2521:54:42期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angel of the irrigation nutrient solution: 20 bottles of 觿; 10 bottles of soup dumplings without vinegar; 2 bottles of Shen Bi; thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!