My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

The sky was bright and the spring breeze opened the buds of the flowers. Adlia sat in the car and suddenly couldn't remember when it started. She could notice the wind and flowers, and she was willing to seize the spring time again.Looking out, she could see his unflinching, broad enough shoulders to lean on, watching Sherlock take her in another, unfamiliar direction.

She didn't ask, just followed him.

The carriage stopped in front of a garden, and the wind was blowing lovely purple flowers, and the heaven-sent fragrance wafted in. Adelia couldn't tell what kind of flower this belonged to, but felt that it made people a little intoxicated.

He stopped the horse and got off the horse, flipped his clothes, turned around and helped her get out of the car: "You don't even ask me where I'm taking you."

"For the sake of not selling me out." She gave him a slight sideways glance.

"As God bears witness, how could I be willing to do so." He bent his arms to teach her to put them on.

His words made her cheeks turn rosy, she was a little shy to respond, and held his arm cautiously.The two went slowly and quietly to the garden.

The flowers are dotted among the green leaves, and it seems that it is not yet the season of full bloom. Some are budding, some are slightly blooming, and only a few are showing a proud and full bloom in a hurry.

"What kind of flower is this?" she asked.

"I'm convinced of your numbness and ignorance of plants," Sherlock joked, "Lilacs usually bloom in May, and they bloom earlier here. I'm lucky."

I found such a good place, and the flowers are willing to cooperate.

The two stopped under the tree, and Adelia raised her head slightly, and she could clearly smell the smell of flowers, which was sweet.

"Knowing these flowers is also what you gained when you studied detective studies?" She didn't think that Sherlock was a person who was willing to understand flowers—that probably wasn't useful knowledge, and in her opinion, it was no more useful than the earth revolving around the sun. it works.

"Not all of them," Sherlock looked at her, and picked off a flower casually, "The main reason is that there were quite a few of them in my school when I was in middle school, and I even tasted them."

Adelia thought of that scene, imagined him a little young, and found it a little funny: "Do you have any photos from that time? I'm quite curious."

"I lived in Cologne, Germany at that time." He twirled the flower stems, but his eyes couldn't take care of the flowers. "My family has lived there for a long time. If there are photos, they should also exist there—after you accompany me there, I can find them." show you."

She was a little embarrassed to ask why she accompanied him there, and she just deliberately changed the subject: "I can even imagine how you were full of curiosity and jumping up and down when you were in middle school."

"It seems that the image of me in your heart is not stable enough." He probably understood her mood, and was always willing to follow her to change the subject, picking out the stamens with his fingers easily, "Do you want to taste it? The petals are bitter, but the stamens are bitter." It's sweet."

"I don't." She squinted at him, refused not very firmly, walked a few steps to the front, but turned around after a while, and asked him again, "Is it really sweet?"

"I will never lie to you." Sherlock laughed.

"Who knows," she hesitated, "if it's hard, I'll ride away by myself and leave you alone."

"Pretty serious threat." He looked at her tenderly.

She was a little embarrassed to bite the one in his hand, so she simply found a lilac that didn't look so perfect on the tree, stretched out her hand to pinch its branch, didn't pick it off, and bit off a little bit.

When she raises her head, her neck is more graceful than a swan, and her face is more beautiful than a flower—she is a flower, a star, a poem, and a fairy tale.

"Is it sweet?" He asked hoarsely.

She is still feeling the strange taste: "A little bit."

She wanted to complain that eating these flowers directly was not in line with her doctor's habits. She must have been fascinated by ghosts.

"Just a little?" He looked at her with a smile, "Can I have a taste?"

She frowned slightly, as if she was still a little confused, but he was already close, his arms gently surrounded her, and he easily picked flowers from her mouth, tasting the sweetness.

They kissed for a long time at the edge of the forest on the hillside, and they couldn't tell whether the vague sweetness came from the lilac or from each other, whether the soft warmth came from the spring or from each other.

As the hands sneaked silently on the dial, she finally lost in his embrace and pulled his collar to make the detective back away slightly, but his fingertips were still behind her left ear, Sliding slowly, like the itching of the scab on the wound that is about to fall off, it makes the fingers shrink.

She breathed steadily on his neck, listening to each other's clamoring heartbeats.

"I didn't realize you were so loving before..." She wanted to say kiss, but that was too embarrassing, "Physical contact."

"I don't have much love for physical contact," the breath of flowers and grass breathed into his lungs, and he identified her smell from it and defined it as spring, "I just treat you—"

"Shut up." She said angrily.

So he laughed so hard that his girl almost pushed him away.

"Have you laughed enough?" She asked not very harshly.

"Enough," he said with an unfinished smile, hiding his slight uneasiness, "Actually, I have prepared a lot of love stories to say, but you are so embarrassing that you are almost on fire."

He put his hands on her shoulders so that there was enough distance between them to look at each other.

Her eyelashes trembled uneasily, as if she had some premonition, the watery light slowly emerged.

Gently press the little mole on the corner of her right eye with her thumb: "I'm here to propose today."

"I tried to copy some poems, to find some elegant and delicate diction, but I gave up," he himself felt amused, "I'm afraid neither of us is good material for literature."

She couldn't help laughing either.

But laughing and laughing, both of them quieted down. They stared at each other silently, as if they didn't know the flow of time-the lovers always only had each other's portrait and heart in their eyes.

After a long time, he held her right hand and placed it on his heart—he always confessed to her with the most loyal vital signs.So she could feel his hands burning with enthusiasm, his heart beating for her, and everything he couldn't control responded to her.

"Love and marriage are brand-new propositions for us," he said softly. "It hasn't been long since we met again. I don't know how to persuade you to accept it, but I must first catch you, Adlia, I feel I have to catch you, but I have no way to force you, I can only tell you my firmness to dispel your anxiety."

He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, and took out the ring he had prepared from his pocket, which was one of his and their common feats: "You must be sure that you are loved, my Girl, if you really want my love, you'll find it waiting for you."

She didn't notice that she shed a tear, and said with a trembling voice, "Is this a marriage proposal?"

"Yes."

"Suppose I can't go back to London and be with you all the time?"

He stared at her: "yes."

"Suppose I reveal the true face of selfishness, jealousy, and laziness in getting along?"

"I have already made up my mind to accept all of you."

Every facet of a diamond shines with its luster.

Her palm was still pressed against his chest, her eyes did not miss his gaze because of the light of the diamond, she looked back at him firmly: "I have a lot of unsteady things to say, but I can't refuse you, you know , I can't refuse you."

He knew it.

There was an uncontrollable smile on the corner of his mouth, and he gently took her hand that was close to him, and put the ring on her middle finger, which fit as he expected—then he held her hand , kissing the ring.

She always said a lot of unsteady words, but she was always so tenacious.

"In this way, the heroine will never be absent at the engagement a week later." He was also in a turbulent mood, but he was still able to crack a joke.

Adlia finally realized at this moment that someone had already thought of this idea: "So it was you and not Leiber at the engagement—"

"Don't mention other people's names," he pressed his thumb against her lips, his eyes contained and blamed, "Of course it's me, it can only be me."

She was angry and funny, and felt that all her worries and anxieties were under the control of this person: "Aren't you afraid that I will refuse and run away the day before the engagement?"

"Then I'm screwed," he complained mockingly. "I've already sent out a hundred invitations."

Adlia's eyes widened in disbelief.

He laughed heartily, but then restrained himself pretending to be serious: "Well, there are not a hundred copies."

So Adelia breathed a sigh of relief.

"Only 99 copies."

"Sherlock!" She was ashamed and annoyed, "Stop playing tricks on me!"

He kissed her eyes, then sought her lips, and she dodged to push him, but what could she do against the young detective and boxer?How can she really resist?

When his palm was pressed against her wrist, she gave up resisting, and when she stepped back, she was about to hit the tree trunk, but was protected by him again.She tickled and laughed when he pressed her lips.

"Sir, you started persecuting me before I got married."

That was clearly a sweet indictment.

"There will be more moments like this in the future." He left slightly, said seriously, and then kissed her again.

After all, she will belong to him.

He was kissing her--and so their love brought lilacs and warm winds and spring.

Naturally, men and women who express their affection to each other cannot be separated even for a moment. Even if they have left the garden and walked to the carriage, they still have to exchange a few words and spend some time together when they want to get in the carriage.

"Have you learned how to ride a horse all these years?" he asked her.

"Bicycles are fine," she tried to quibble with erratic eyes, "It's not that I can't, I just don't feel comfortable riding a horse."

"Squeamish." He smiled and unloaded the harnessed carriage.

Obviously she is not squeamish, and he is the only one who can say that about her.

"Can you ride up, Annie?" He deliberately called her affectionately, "I'll take you by the hand, we can go back slowly."

Can't ride a horse and can't climb it?Adelia muttered, "You look down on me too much, it's just that it's not convenient for me to wear a skirt."

"Indeed." He nodded seriously, took the rein and stepped on the pedals, stepped on the horse's back freely, and then stretched out his hand to her.

Adelia hesitated for a moment, finally handed over her hand, stepped on the pedal carefully, not thinking about how to climb up, and was hugged by the detective bending over her waist.

The momentary feeling of weightlessness made her almost cry out, and she finally dared to accuse the person who threatened her when she finally landed on the horseback: "You're going to scare me to death."

He held the rein firmly and made her sit sideways in his arms: "You'd better hold me tight, or you might be scared by me."

"You're threatening me," she seemed to put her arms around his waist reluctantly, "this posture is weird."

He shook the rein, and the horse walked obediently. It was not fast, but it felt slightly bumpy, which made Adlia feel a little uncomfortable: "Is it safe to sit like this? I feel like I'm going to slip."

As she said this, she leaned her head against him: "Let's leave the carriage, don't you want it?"

"Even though I lack romantic cells, ma'am, you seem to be even more incomprehensible." Sherlock said helplessly.

"Man," she snorted softly in his arms, "I started to dislike him as soon as I got it, what should I do?"

Her voice has always been calm, but at the moment she wants to act coquettishly, but she is also a little nondescript and cute: "Mr. Sherlock Holmes likes it, maybe I can't hold on to the engagement banquet."

He was amused by her and laughed aloud: "It's hard to say, maybe I won't last until I go back to the clinic."

He paused in a mysterious way, feeling the girl hug him tighter: "Unless someone can hold on until then."

The author says:

absolutely...

Write me to death.I giao.

I have also written Fu (original work/volume) to confess my heart before, but there is a difference here.Love is love in this place, and the two sink together.The positions of the two are also relatively equal (although adr himself is somewhat autistic, the two are equal).Fu didn't need to explain his many motives.I feel that it has improved compared to the two-way indulgence I wrote before.Hope it is progress orz.Although there are still a lot of sour words...

Thanks for Xingbao's long comment, meme-333-

ps I have 36w words, am I not worthy to be a big fierce 1! ! ! !

感谢在2022-01-2800:18:43~2022-01-2816:56:37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 irrigation nutrient solution: 5 bottles of rhetoric;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard! ?