My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

It is said that she does not have the habit of drinking on an empty stomach, but when the dinner served was only bread and chicken with dry wood, Adelia could only eat a few sloppy mouthfuls and quietly sipped from her wine glass.

"To be honest, I was a little surprised when I found out that you still have a few bottles of good wine in your collection," Sherlock raised his glass, "I thought that with your personality, you wouldn't like alcohol—both tobacco and alcohol are harmful to your health. thing."

"It's just a drink before going to bed," Adelia sighed softly as the mellow and thick wine slipped into her throat, "Although it's the countryside, you can see Branston's strength from this bottle of wine."

After she got out of the quilt, she was still wearing her morning clothes, only a thick blanket, and her posture was leisurely and lazy.

Sherlock can't control his habit of observing, especially when the object of observation is his roommate.Perhaps it was the flame of the fireplace that softened the lines, and he suddenly found that her face was not as sharp as he thought; perhaps it was the gray blanket that was wide and heavy, and his roommate looked extraordinarily thin, as if to be swallowed up.

Before the person on the opposite side noticed his gaze, Sherlock put down his wine glass and stood up pretending to be natural: "The fire in the fireplace is a little bit smaller."

Adelia watched him get up in silence, added some firewood, and then fiddled with the tongs.The flames blazed up instantly, and some heat rushed over.The euphoria of alcohol and the warmth of the fireplace made Adlia a little hot. She looked at her roommate thoughtfully, but did not restrain her gaze.

"What's wrong?" Her gaze couldn't be ignored.

"Well, when you usually observe me, it's probably at this level," she said, "Should you feel offended if you are watched like this?"

Her question made Sherlock unable to answer for a moment. He patted the ashes on his hands, sat back in his seat, and looked back calmly: "If you are also curious about me, I don't mind."

When the four eyes met, she couldn't help dodging a little, but felt that it was unnecessary to dodge, so she raised the wine glass and shook it slightly: "I have nothing worthy of your curiosity."

Sherlock laughed in a low voice: "Then you take it as a concern for your friends."

This time Adelia had no excuses.Sherlock, who gained the upper hand in the conversation, poured wine for the two of them. When he walked behind Adlia and poured wine for her, he suddenly noticed that there was a small mole in the corner of her right eye.

It was Sherlock who proposed to drink, but obviously Sherlock didn't have a lot of alcohol, and after two or three drinks, he felt drowsy as if he was about to fall asleep.

"That's not enough?" Adlia looked at the person in front of her thoughtfully, a little amused, it was obviously this person who suggested drinking, and he was also the one who fell down.

His complexion was cold and pale. With his eyes closed at this moment, there was still some blush caused by alcohol on his face, which was different from his usual appearance.Perhaps because of the cold, his body leaned toward the fireplace, and the warm firelight reflected his side face. He was like a resting snow leopard—even though he was peaceful at the moment, once he woke up, he would reveal sharp eyes and tense muscles. Get ready to hunt.

Adlia always felt that he had a wonderful temperament, close to the combination of an artist and a science student.

"Sherlock Holmes," she whispered his name, perhaps as the night deepened, her voice became lingering with the surge of emotion, "Why do I always feel that your name has a sense of familiarity. "

Where did I hear it... Could it be, is it really a famous person?Or have you seen... before?

The effect of alcohol put her in a slightly excited state, but her body told her that she was a little tired.She rubbed her temples and was about to take a shower, but when she got up, she found that Sherlock moved a little, as if he was very cold.

"Holmes," she patted him on the shoulder, "go to bed and sleep, he will catch a cold in a while."

"Huh?" He still had an ignorant nasal voice when he spoke, and it seemed that it took him a while to react, "Let's go."

His eyes half-opened, then slowly fell again.

Obviously this person was the one who shouted for a drink, but it turned out that he was the one who got so drunk.Adelia laughed, and after thinking about it, she covered him with the thick blanket she was wearing.

Sure enough, he raised his eyes and brows.

Well, anyway, she can't carry this person, so she can just sleep on the sofa.

When she was washing, she seemed to hear the rustling sound outside, but she didn't pay attention to it, but when she came out, there was no one on the sofa, and when she turned her head, Sherlock was lying on her bed.

The strings of Adelia's sanity were about to snap.

She was about to push Sherlock awake and let him sleep in another place, but she put her hands on his shoulders and took them back.

Forget it, wake him up and go back, she doesn't really want to sleep in her own bed anymore, and it seems a bit too much for a male to feel bad.

But—sleeping on his bed, I am more or less a woman, I can't pass the test in my heart,

Adlia sighed, and sighed again, standing beside the bed helplessly looking at Sherlock who was wrapped in a blanket and fell on the bed.

"It really fell into your hands."

She struggled to pull off the thick blanket, and stuffed Sherlock into the bed. After completing this series of actions, she was slightly sweating, but the man was sleeping in the dark.

Adelia was a little envious of the quality of this man's sleep.

She sighed again, hugged the blanket and book to the sofa, and dragged the sofa to the fireplace so that it would be warmer, and finally found a comfortable position for her to finish reading the novel.

If I knew this earlier, I shouldn't have agreed to drink with him.

Before seven o'clock, Sherlock suddenly opened his eyes on the bed, and the first thing he saw was Adelia nestled on the sofa.

Perhaps it was because of the cold weather and the quilt was too warm, so he rarely had the urge to sleep on the bed. He opened his eyes and quietly stared at the profile of his roommate for a while—her eyes were half closed, her eyelashes fluttered, and she looked like she was about to fall asleep.

Sure enough, it's not good to sleep all the time?He thought about it.

Sherlock is not a drinker. He drank a little more than usual yesterday. Fortunately, he doesn't feel too much hangover now. He breathes lightly, wanting to see when Adrian can fall asleep, but The moment her eyelids closed, she sat up straight again, like waking up from a nightmare.

A second before she looked over, Sherlock closed his eyes, skillfully pretending to be asleep.

He heard some small voices. Adrian probably thought that he was still resting, so he moved very lightly. It was even difficult for Sherlock to judge what she had done just by hearing the voices.

Twice he heard the door close, both softly.But he was sure he was going out the second time—the lock on the door of the room was a little awkward.

He just opened his eyes, and there was no one in the room.

He couldn't quite explain what he felt at that moment, and his consciousness slowly came back, and when he was about to touch the cigarette beside the bed, he realized that he seemed to be lying on Adrian's bed - no wonder there was a hint of fresh grass on the tip of his nose .

It was time to get up, but he couldn't remember it.

Although Adrian seems to have refused to lie on his bed, it can be seen that he accepts himself quite well, and he is thoughtful, otherwise he should have been kicked off the bed long ago.

This conclusion made him feel a little happy again.He turned over and finally got up.

Well, take care of this roommate who is a bit of a clean freak.

Sherlock worked so hard to straighten the sheets and make the quilt neatly. Then he put on his shoes and walked to the sofa where Adlia sat last night.He habitually used his brain to think.

Obviously, last night his friend was wrapped in a blanket and reading a book here, and it seemed that he hadn't slept all night.After the candle burned out, it was replaced with a new one, and - yesterday, I only read a hundred or so pages of this book at the beginning, and now I have read all of it.

He flipped through the book, and there was nothing left in the book except for the traces of recording the progress by directly folding the corners.

I really can't tell that he is someone who reads novels all night, he muttered in a low voice, but found no more useful information.

At this moment, the door suddenly opened again.

Although he didn't do anything, Sherlock suddenly felt guilty: "You're back? Why didn't you knock on the door?"

Adlia was carrying the breakfast, and her eyes were still black and blue: "Perhaps, Holmes, you can try to restrain your habit of observing your poor roommate every day?"

The author says:

drink!

I was on duty yesterday and forgot to set the time, so let’s make it today, scratch my head.And if the daily update sometimes fails to catch up with everyone, you will feel disappointed. Why don't you treat it as the next day's update, and the daily update should be dropped and added?I want to try my best to keep the rules

And Lao Fu successfully climbed the bed (no)?