My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

Adlia later asked Miss Judy to send two bottles of wine.

She drinks very well and has never been drunk, but maybe this night she was just pursuing the feeling of being drunk, completely disregarding that it was all strong alcohol, and pouring it into her mouth like drinking water.Sherlock, who realized this, didn't drink with her, but just drank tea with her.

Probably because the bingo game was not enough, the two began to ask and answer each other again.

At first, it was cold knowledge, and Adlia, who reacted slowly, was unwilling to accept the ridicule even if she lost, so she simply threw a penny over.

But she was still laughed at.

"You're too stingy." Sherlock laughed.

Adelia turned a deaf ear and continued to ask questions.

But as I asked, the nature of the question changed.

Adelia: "What was the saddest time you cried?"

Sherlock silently tossed the coin back and refused to answer, thus gaining a proud friend.He used to ask a knowledge quiz, but after getting the answer, his friend started to push forward——

"Who is the most hated person?" she asked.

You're annoying when you're drunk, he thought, and finally humbly tossed her a coin in the face of conceding - just let her get back on her feet, petty petite who lost out on forgetting the first date friend.

"The price of the shirt is nine pounds and fifteen pence—" Adrea, who had won again, said happily in a strange standard English accent, like a child who has won candy or a high grade in an exam.

"You're drunk, Adrian." Sherlock looked helplessly at the person in front of him, "Do you have to resort to rogue ways to get those poor coins back?"

Adlia has already started holding the wine bottle: "I'm not drunk, you have to believe that the enzymes in my body that metabolize alcohol are quite developed, ha, forget it, you don't even understand."

Nineteenth-century London didn't know what alcohol dehydrogenase was, she said proudly.

Sherlock: Somewhat offended, but not angry, why am I angry with a drunk.

"Then put the bottle down."

As expected, Adelia put it down obediently, but she picked it up again in the next second, and took another sip: "No, I can't let you drink. I'm afraid you'll sleep in the wrong room with your drinking capacity. I'm a clean freak. Last time you I slept in the wrong bed."

Help, don't say it, Sherlock thought helplessly.After that, he tried to negotiate terms with little hope: "I promise I won't drink a drop tonight, if you put the bottle back."

Unexpectedly, she who seemed not fully awake thought for a while, and put the bottle back almost obediently: "All right, for the sake of you being Holmes."

He was stunned for a moment.

The fire gradually dimmed, and Sherlock suddenly felt that he was obviously not a caring person, so why did he worry about the scarf and the fireplace when he was with this friend.

Well, for the sake of being Adrian--he got up from his seat, stooped to add some wood, and the fire came alive again.

His friend behind him sighed softly, and there was a strangely reproachful tone in his ears: "My throat is burning, is it because the warmth of the stove is too strong?"

Sherlock was holding the tongs, and now he wanted to hit him on the head with the tongs: "No, it's because the wine you drank is close to fifty degrees, sir."

He was so tired that he didn't drink a few sips, and his head was a little dizzy.

He didn't notice that although his tone was an annoyed complaint, it was too gentle.

In the novel, is Sherlock Holmes a lonely person?Adelia was dazed, and the detective's blurred back was reflected in her eyes, which overlapped with the one in the book, but seemed different.The detective in front of her seemed to be the one she knew, not the one in the book.

How can a person like him be a lonely person? He should tirelessly solve one problem after another, overcome one difficulty after another, and then reap flowers, praise, and career friendship.

Her eyelids were getting a little heavy.

With such a company, can she not be a self-pitying, failed researcher, but a loyal friend and a steadfast doctor?

—Are you asleep, or are you drunk?

When Sherlock turned his head, he saw that under the shadow of the fire, his friend's head was hanging down softly, some long hair on his forehead fell down, and his white and full forehead appeared in the darkness.The usually pale and slightly pursed lips were moistened by alcohol, which lured a bright red color.

His breathing was very shallow, even weak, not comparable to the beeping sound of flames dancing, Sherlock couldn't even see the ups and downs of his breathing, as if the picture was still.

Adrian seemed to be able to bring everything around him to stillness, to pause.

"Adrian, go back to your room and sleep."

Sherlock whispered to his friend.

Adelia woke up suddenly from sleep, eyes wide - Sherlock's face was so close to her, she was almost startled to stop breathing.But when she saw who it was, she relaxed her guard in a daze, and even showed a silly smile.

She is like a drop of dew on a green leaf, and like a bud blown away by the spring breeze, even a shallow sound can cause a little shaking.The way she was so scared that she held her breath was a bit too cute, and the color tone of her bright green eyes was changing, which made him have an emotion close to soft-hearted for the first time.

"Pay attention to the distance, sir," she stretched the label again after laughing, spoke a little slowly, and rubbed her eyes carelessly, "I'm sleepy, good night."

After all, she didn't bother to care about her coat or everything on the dining table, and walked upstairs steadily without waiting for a response.

It seemed that everything was fine, but Sherlock judged from the misty eyes of his friend that the other party was not awake, and he was not at ease that he went upstairs alone, so he could only follow the two steps behind her step by step.

How many steps does the Baker Street staircase have?Adelia could hardly keep her eyes open, she could only count silently in her heart.

until the last step.

"careful!"

Before she realized that she kicked the steps and fell backwards, her friend behind her had already caught her.

Adelia opened her eyes just now, um, I counted the wrong steps, huh?Why is Sherlock's face so close again?

"If you are stronger, I can be bounced back to my room," she said bluntly, "You are so hard, it hurts my back."

She stretched out her right hand, trying to help him by the shoulder, and her misfocused eyes caused her to touch his concerned face. She opened her eyes slightly, like a child with a novelty toy, touched his cheekbones and then touched his cheekbones again. He touched the tip of his nose and let out a soft "Hey".

"Don't you hate this?" she asked confused.

It's itchy, he replied in his heart.

She touched her face again: "I feel a little awkward when I'm too close to others."

As if talking to herself, she supported his shoulders this time, and after standing upright with his strength, she finally walked the last three steps smoothly, then turned around and asked him a little puzzled: "You really don't hate me?" ?"

"How?" He heard himself answer uncontrollably.

Then she gave a happy and innocent smile: "That's great, I can sleep."

Then, step by step, as if nothing had happened, she slowly walked back to the door of the room, and said, "Good night."

Unable to worry about too many inexplicable emotions, Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief: Thank God, Adrian at least remembered where the room was.But before he could finish his breath, he heard another bang in the room.

Without time to think more, Sherlock pushed open the door of the room.

His friend sat on the ground in a daze, showing some dissatisfaction because of the pain, and looked up at himself after hearing the door open: "Knock before entering."

Sherlock almost collapsed, but he finally indulged his friend's little problem, and said along the way: "If you didn't fall down, I didn't plan to come in."

Adlia rubbed her painful tailbone: "I was scared by you."

It's nothing more than the villain's first complaint.Although he slandered his rare and unreliable friend viciously in his heart, Sherlock finally pampered her again and walked to the bedside to help her, but his movements were more restrained than when they first met.

"For the sake of your initiative to support me, I forgive you, Holmes," Adlia nodded to herself, lying on the bed, roughly pulled the quilt over her abdomen, and closed her eyes peacefully, " Close the door for me, detective, and good night."

Sherlock could not tell whether he had become impatient with his own whims, or with her.He roughly covered Adrian with the quilt, and said angrily, "Good night."

But when he got to the door, he looked back again, and his friend didn't seem to have the intention of poking his head out of the quilt at all.

—I'm here so that I won't be charged with murder tomorrow.

He turned back and pulled down the quilt, at least so that his friend would not suffocate to death.

"It's really you," he murmured.

Ah, from this angle, Adrian's face is really round.

Unexpectedly, Sherlock reached out and grabbed his face.

I will laugh at him again tomorrow, I am in a good mood recently and gained a lot of weight.

"Don't mess with me," she reached out to slap his hand off, but maybe her body was somewhat soft after drinking, and she didn't have much strength, so she just put it on gently, "Remember...Christmas presents."

Sherlock laughed. Didn't this clean freak friend fall drunk on the bed without taking a shower?But so be it for today.He ignored the wonderful touch of her soft hand against the back of his hand, stuffed his friend's hand back under the bed, extinguished the candle, and finally turned back to his room.

He gazed at her soft silhouette in the dark for a few seconds before turning around.

The night and starlight poured in from her window sill, and the warm blood flowed in his body, encouraging the heart to beat faster, supplying more blood to the brain, and making him remember everything about tonight.

Maybe I was drunk today too, he thought.

The next day is Christmas, and even a remote bay can't help but feel a little more festive.When Sherlock was wandering with Adlia recently, he inadvertently aroused some interest in Cornish. It happened that he got a few related books from the original owner of the house, and read them while eating breakfast.

After he came here, Adrian was in charge of various arrangements such as travel and sightseeing, and he was only responsible for being obedient. After a chaotic and slow night, this arrangement seemed to have added an unusual color.

His friend Shengsheng didn't arrive until 10:30.

"You can sleep well," Sherlock looked up at her. "Breakfast is three times hot."

"Good morning, Holmes, were you the one who dragged me back to my room yesterday? I remember falling asleep," she adjusted her neckline. "Merry Christmas."

Her mental state is obviously not bad, which is completely different from her usual tired appearance after waking up.But she seemed to have completely forgotten about her inexplicable behavior yesterday, which seemed perfectly natural.

"Well," he replied bluntly, the corners of his mouth curled like a routine job, and decided to keep those entanglements to himself for the time being, "Merry Christmas."

Adlia touched the plate. Before the breakfast was completely cooled, she stopped bothering the maid: "It's a pity that you didn't bring your violin. Maybe some music is suitable for such a festival."

"You can't always expect me to play," Sherlock's tone seemed colder than usual, "I'm not a professional violinist."

"I have to cherish this time and make good use of you." Adelia didn't notice it, and she was still confident.

When she finished writing "A Study in Scarlet", the detective became famous, so how could she use the big detective?

Sherlock vaguely sensed that there were other meanings in her words, but he was sure that the other party would completely forget what happened last night after falling asleep, so he could only sigh: "I played a lot of piano music for you, but I never I've seen your music literacy improve a bit."

"Maybe it's because I don't have an artist grandmother." Adelia tilted her head and thought for a while, "It's okay, now I can at least distinguish Mozart from Chopin."

"My God," Sherlock finally put all his thoughts into the chat, exaggeratedly sighed, "I've never heard of anyone taking this as an achievement."

"Then you have seen it now," Adelia was not ashamed, "Don't you also remember the heliocentric theory?"

"I voluntarily gave up this part of knowledge, which doesn't mean I lack common sense, sir," Sherlock repeatedly emphasized, "but you can't always ask me to play without knowing what I'm playing."

"If I really want to study that, I'll go to the concert."

"Then when you return to London, you have to accompany me to Sarasate's concert." He took the opportunity to make a condition.

"Ah—" Adelia suddenly remembered something, and smiled slyly, "Okay, this is your Christmas present."

Sherlock felt that he was at a loss, and raised his eyebrows: "I really never thought you would be so lazy."

Adelia put down the tableware and said in a leisurely manner: "'Paganini is reborn', no matter how insensitive I am to music, I have heard of his reputation to some extent, not to mention you invited me before."

Sherlock froze.

"His tickets are not easy to buy," Adlia said proudly, "but I got two VIP tickets through Professor Wycombe. I think you will be willing to come back to London to listen to his performance on January [-]th."

The author says:

Sherlock: She's a scumbag, she forgot everything between us.

Sherlock: But she invited me to the concert, she just wanted to be with me (x)

And the stupid author: Pushing the relationship line by relying on fake wine

ps, adr is broken

This kind of chapter full of emotional details, I will not say too much to make it annoying, today you are responsible for talking -v-

感谢在2021-12-0823:12:23~2021-12-0916:01:51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 irrigation nutrient solution: 20 bottles of Wang Mushen; 10 bottles of Time Traveler; 2 bottles of rice noodles covered with cold skin;

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