My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

Without her.

Sometimes Sherlock can't tell whether the existence of "her" is a hallucination or reality. He walks through the cases he has gone through almost numbly, and one by one, one by one, makes him understand in detail. More and more convinced that her existence is not an illusion.

Crazy is crazy.

He thought so when he went alone to the intact Reval Club; he thought so when he walked all the way down the Thames; Thought.

He is very familiar with the scenery on the road, full of vitality everywhere, but in his eyes, it is just the noisy wind and the boring green. He has traveled between London and Kent several times in the past, and none of them bored him as much as this moment .

The newspaper carried the case of the Redheads, and he heard the passengers who were reading the newspaper gossiping, mentioning the eccentric detective and his clever brain, and he wanted to tell them that there should be her existence among them— — but he has no proof.

He couldn't prove her existence.

Such an empty pain tormented him, and he couldn't utter a single word for her, nor could he say a single character for himself.

Standing at the door of Ossella's clinic, he knew that if he couldn't find her here, maybe she really disappeared.

Just as he was about to raise his hand to knock on the door of the consulting room, he suddenly heard a voice from inside.

"Miss Sutherland, you haven't grasped my meaning: he didn't tell you his address, he didn't tell you his job, even though he had many reasons, I just think it's a manifestation of insincerity. If you ask me, your symptoms are just All we need to do is break up."

He caught her voice almost at the first word, and he almost bent over and laughed.

It was her, he was absolutely sure it was her.

Indifferent and friendly with a mean tone, there is no one else in the world except Adelia.

The joy at that moment swept his heart like a torrent, and he wished he could rush in and kiss her now, immediately, immediately.But in the end, reason took the high ground, he raised his hand and knocked on the door, and waited for a while before pushing the door open.

He saw her, and he had the opportunity to gaze at her again as he wished.Her black hair was treated casually by her, it was simply tied up in a bun, she did not wear makeup but her brows were clear, maybe because she didn't sleep well last night, her eyes always showed some gentle tiredness.

When she stood up, the skirt caught the handle of the drawer, and she carelessly opened it: "I have another patient here, if you have nothing to do, please come back—there are some female nurses here, they are very lively and enthusiastic, If you have something you can't figure out, they are willing to communicate with you."

She even sent Miss Sutherland to the door in a gentlemanly manner, exhaled secretly to soothe her emotions, and then raised her eyes to entertain the next patient.

But after meeting his deep gray eyes, she suddenly couldn't open her mouth.

He just smiled at her with deep and strange eyes - she should have never seen him before, but this scene was so familiar that she froze in place, speechless for a long time.

"Are you the doctor here?" He took the initiative to speak, easing the silence.

Only then did Adlia realize that she was fascinated by the patient for the first time: "Ah, yes, Adlia Hurston, you can call me Dr. Hurston—"

She seemed to think of something suddenly: "Uh, I receive more female patients here. If you care, Dr. Ossella is in the consulting room next door."

She rarely stuttered when she spoke, and a thin pink color floated on her cheeks.

Would it be like this if she had walked on this path without distraction from the very beginning?Sherlock almost couldn't help the smile on his lips: "No, ma'am—well, Dr. Hurston, I think that's very good."

Adelia almost didn't know where to put her hands and feet. As soon as this strange gentleman walked in, she seemed to become the owner of this consulting room, as if she was the one who came to see the doctor.This made her a little uncomfortable, and she almost despised her professionalism, until she held the stethoscope and found some reason: "What's wrong with you?"

Sherlock originally planned to make up a symptom, but the heartbeat was right next to his ear, and he hardly had to think about it: "Chest tightness, palpitation."

Adlia frowned, and quickly recovered her professional status: "You look very young? Do you feel uncomfortable now?"

Sherlock almost laughed out loud, he felt that he must be the kind of patient that Adlia hated the most, coming to the clinic to mess around.But at this moment, his heart was about to jump out.

"I'm a little palpitating now." He had a calm demeanor, except the corners of his mouth could not be controlled.

Adelia walked around behind him, put the stethoscope on her back, and heard the gentleman's heartbeat—in fact, she felt that her heartbeat was also a little fast, and she was afraid of being confused by the illusion, so she carefully counted the time for a while.

She seemed to mutter that it was indeed a bit fast.

"Does it happen often?" she asked, taking off her stethoscope.

"No." He answered solemnly.

Adelia hooked up the stethoscope again and reached out to feel his neck.

Her fingertips, warm and dry, landed on his carotid artery, applying some gentle pressure, and releasing it after a while.

"It may be sinus tachycardia caused after activities or emotional excitement—" She frowned after speaking of technical terms, and changed her expression, "It is a normal physiological phenomenon after all, don't be too nervous, But pay attention to quit smoking, alcohol and coffee, and avoid some incentives.”

That's kind of bad, because the trigger is you, after all.

Sherlock even wanted to reach out and take her back into his palm.But he knew he couldn't be so abrupt with her.

Fortunately, he has always been able to maintain his rationality and restraint, otherwise she should already be in his arms.

He stared at her as she sat back in her seat, muttered a few cute words that were inaudible, and then looked up and asked him, "You haven't introduced yourself yet?"

"Sherlock Holmes," he smiled, "consult the detective."

It's the work they created together.

She stopped writing, looked up at him, and then at the newspaper that she pressed under the table: "The one that ran down from the newspaper?"

He couldn't hold back his smile: "Maybe, if you're talking about that eccentric and withdrawn—"

"Mr. Holmes!" Adelia interrupted him. She looked carefully and was sure that the man was indeed very similar to the description in the newspaper, especially the aquiline nose. "I don't know if you are joking or belittle yourself. , if you are really the one in the papers, I should give you a good compliment on your talent."

She quickly wrote a few words on the prescription pad: "There is no medicine, just some precautions - for the sake of you being a great detective, I will send you to a clinic."

It's a pity, why didn't I boast a few more words.The detective felt a little regretful in his heart. He hadn't gone out yet, so he began to think about what reason to come to see her next time.

But the detective's mind rarely stopped, and he didn't think of a better way until he reached the door.

Fortunately, he carried his business card with him and solemnly handed it to her when he turned around.

"My name, address, my job," he moistened his throat, and looked at her seriously, "I can tell you all to show my sincerity and sincerity, then, Ms. Heston."

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly: "Can I still come over tomorrow?"

She was almost so frightened that she loosened her hand and dropped the business card. Her sleepy eyes were round and round, and the green eyes reflected his appearance as before.

Those were the eyes he was most familiar with.

"I—" She has forgotten how she threatened her suitor with a gun to get out of the clinic, and she rarely showed a little shame, "You—"

She cleared her throat: "Can I stop you from seeing a doctor normally?"

He was all too familiar with her movements about the unease, her eyelashes trembling so cutely that he wanted to kiss her.

"Indeed," he said hoarsely, "I can't stop every tachycardia."

Seeing that his girl was still a little ignorant, he added helplessly and amusedly: "I mean, when facing you."

This time he managed to hold her hand, and the kiss landed on the back of her hand. He was sure that his shadow kissed her, with the aftertaste of the piano sound similar to that day.

She may have become angry from embarrassment, but in the end she didn't say anything to refuse him, she just said to no avail: "You are not allowed to interfere with the normal medical order."

She turned back to the consulting room and gave him an angry look.

He finally laughed out loud, happier than he had ever been since waking up that day.

It's okay if she's still around - after all, no matter how many times they do it again, they won't reject each other.

That's great, he looked at the beautiful spring sun, the fine grass, and her shadow floating in the wind.

Great.

In this world, there is her.

>>>>>>>>>

"Sherlock?"

He frowned, and reached out to take the troublesome hand.

"Get up—" she dragged her tone, like a prank child.

He opened his eyes suddenly, just in time to see the face he was thinking about.

It felt like he had experienced two lost and recovered at the same time, he let out a long sigh of relief, his voice still had a sleepy nasal voice: "I don't know whether I should be happy or regretful."

"What's wrong?" She was trapped in his arms by his long arms.

"I dreamed of another beginning for us," he closed his eyes again after making sure she was in his arms, "I'm just about to see how the second half of the story will develop."

"I don't know how the second half of the story will develop, but I know that your wife is hungry," Adlia murmured in his neck, "and, if you don't get up again, Christmas Eve will pass in such a muddle .”

"Mrs. Hudson is not at home," Sherlock said suddenly.

Adelia gave a lazy hum, and was about to ask Sherlock to cook with confidence, when she remembered someone's horrific cooking skills, and covered her eyes in pain: "I don't want to get up—I don't want to go out—"

"Well, after a month's absence, I also miss the tender chicken at the Rochester restaurant, Anne——Adelia, would you like to honor me and enjoy it with me?"

"What if I refuse?"

He suddenly remembered the scene when he lifted her from the sofa and threw her into the room a long time ago, forcing her to accompany him to the concert.He reached out, took her hand off, and looked at her with a smile.

"Then I can only complete the unfinished action last time, such as carrying you out directly, and we will be on the headline of tomorrow's Times together."

The author says:

Celebrating the first gold medal in the short track speed skating mixed relay!The Chinese team is awesome! ! ! ! ! (Breaking sound

About Lao Fu’s cooking skills: Lao Fu’s gooey mess in the episode of The Hound of Baskervilles can prove it (it’s better to eat while it’s hot, I laughed so hard

I also want to touch another episode, but I don’t have any inspiration. Abo and Shaoxiang really dabbled too little and I feel a little hard to figure it out. I don’t plan to write the death if line of adr after Chinese New Year, and I don’t want to use a knife.I'll think about it again.Nevermind.

然后今天初五迎财神，恭喜发财呀！感谢在2022-02-0421:52:21~2022-02-0522:53:52期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angels of the irrigation nutrient solution: 30 bottles of Beatrice.M.H; 10 bottles of Lin Nansheng; two more baskets in a big bag, rice noodles wrapped in cold skin, and one bottle for three catties and twenty-seven dollars;

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