My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

Sherlock was keenly aware that since the hug when he came home that night, the distance between the two seemed to have become closer-every time they had dinner together, she or he would close the curtains so that she could She can sit next to him unscrupulously, leaning on his shoulder consciously when she is sleepy while reading a book. When there are only two people in the house, she will occasionally call herself "Sherlock".

And when he asked her why she had such a change, she rolled her beautiful eyes and kept silent. Sometimes, he thought, she was like a restless cat, testing where her touch should stop. to what extent.

He originally thought that he was the more active one, but when she really approached her actively, he actually experienced a happy and loving feeling.Of course, all this is also under his pampering guidance—for example, asking her to come to the door when going out, Mrs. Hudson downstairs, who can be seen from the window by turning her side slightly; he is willing to sit on the couch, So she can sit next to him; the activity he looks forward to most every day when he comes home is to close the curtains; deliberately put the cigarette case in her pocket, and every time he goes out for a walk, he can have a few words with her about the tobacco problem Crooked.

At work, Stilton also teased him that he looked good and whether he had an ambiguous partner.

He had just asked for a parting kiss before going out, and he thought that if he really said it, the gloomy Stilton would definitely make an interesting expression.

But he didn't.

Perhaps happiness came too suddenly, and he lacked understanding of women's minds. He attributed the uneasiness that occasionally leaked when she took the initiative to touch him to his uncertainty about the future.

And he didn't notice what Adelia had explained to Mrs. Hudson while he was away.

It was September, and it was a lovely day, and he was going to work as usual, only to find the curtains closed, and Adelia, dressed for the trip, sitting on the sofa reading the paper.

"Are you meeting someone today?" he asked.

"Well, I'll go to Oxford Street later and make an appointment to look at the house," she flipped through the newspaper, "I'm still thinking about how many people I want to hire."

He might be a bit too used to her, and he was a little dissatisfied with the fact that the newspaper blocked her face. The left and right curtains were drawn, and he didn't cover it up. He went to the sofa to take her newspaper away.

However, before he could see her expression clearly, she reached out and covered his eyes.

Then she kissed him.

A simple touch no heavier than a feather makes his heart sway - there are many intimate touches, but every kiss is always asked for by him, and he doesn't even have time to think about why, the senses have already intuitively enjoyed it.

Then her lips moved away, perhaps less than half a centimeter away, and even her breathing was still intertwined. Her breathing was a little unsteady: "You don't think I'm abrupt, do you?"

Imagining her expression, before he had time to deny it, she continued talking to herself: "Need some Sherlock Holmes energy."

Then she offered her lips and tongue again.Unlike the pecking kisses that were close to each other before, this time their kiss was passionate and devoted.The two novices danced with their tongues recklessly and jerkyly, blending with each other with their breath.Sherlock's eyes were still covered by her, he vaguely felt that something was wrong, but he realized that this was her unique way of shyness, his hand rested on the back of her neck, soft short hair, delicate skin in his palm.He understood the meaning of kissing without a teacher, took the initiative, plundered her air, but gave her a chance to breathe.

It may be long, but it is too short.He repeated her name in his mind, he tasted her name with his lips—how did he discover her, how did he fall in love?Like the rose-colored dawn, the silvery dewdrops on the leaves, it should appear one day in one's life, and she should appear in another's life.He is willing to understand every tiny thought in her heart, every lovely corner of her.

Her hands could barely cover his eyes, but they were still in place blocking his sight.Sherlock held her waist with the other hand, feeling that she had softened in his arms, even when her legs were so weak that she couldn't stand up, and even unable to respond, she reluctantly left her lips.

"You've made me so happy that I can't find the north." His breathing also didn't calm down, and his chest shook with laughter. "Now I'm allowed to see you?"

She finally let go of her hand, so he clearly saw how she was being kissed so that her green eyes were shining and the tails of her eyes were slightly red, and her lips were bright red and moist -- she was the one who took the initiative, but she was kissed so pitifully.

"You are so annoying." She complained in a low voice, but her tone was so sweet.

So he laughed again, and kissed the corner of her eyes comfortingly: "You really like me."

He saw the tips of her pink ears, but his fingertips just touched them, but she avoided them violently.It seemed that he couldn't stop laughing, he insisted on imprisoning her in his arms, so that she could feel the agitation in his chest.

She was held tightly, making her more lustful and fascinated.

"Are you sure you don't go to work? Stilton will definitely say you."

"Disappointing," he said.

"Then how long are you going to hold it?"

"Don't you like it?" he asked back.

she likes.

If it wasn't for her liking, she wouldn't have seized the time, raced against time, and approached selfishly.

Adelia felt that her eyes were sore and uncomfortable, but she couldn't open her mouth. She just buried her face in his neck and chest, feeling that her nose and heart were surrounded by his smell.

Hugs always have to be let go, Adlia pushed him, and finally drove the rare clingy detective to work, then she opened the curtains, the sun came in, she looked down at the late detective hurried on Carriage, before getting into the carriage, she turned her head and gestured to her with a cane. She waved with a slight smile and watched him leave.

After about half an hour, she went into her room, put a letter on the table, then went into Sherlock's room, put another letter under his pillow, and she took a last peek at his room , went back to the living room, sorted out the documents and papers on the table for the last time, and then took the suitcase and said goodbye to Mrs. Hudson.When the door was opened, a carriage stopped at the door, and Adelia knew that it was the carriage that picked her up, so she stepped on it without any hesitation.

In the car, she straightened her bow tie and collar, and patted her cuffs, her lips were still numb after the kiss.

No matter what happens next, she has enough energy to deal with it.Usually, when she was sitting in the carriage, she would not listen, look or think, but perhaps some bad premonition urged her. This was the first time she was so proactive in identifying the sounds outside the carriage, and tried her best to smooth out the bumps of the carriage. go.

Although it was daytime, the sounds outside the car became less and less, and Adlia judged that this was going to the West End, a noble upper-class community.The other party didn't deliberately cover up, so that she couldn't see where she was going.

I don't know who is going to see me.

She carried her luggage—that was to convince Mrs. Hudson that she was leaving London in disguise—and got out of the car.

The hotel next to the Thames River, a well-decorated small bungalow, looks a little cold, and Adlia doesn't understand the architecture, and it vaguely feels a little French romantic.The servant helped carry the luggage and led her to the underground private club. It was a little strange that there were two or three Asian faces here. Adlia cautiously judged that they might be Indian or Afghan.

It was a dark room, and you could smell the pungent gasoline smell when you opened the door. There was a woman lying on the sofa, and she seemed to be sleeping very peacefully.

When she closed the door, she clearly heard the sound of a bullet being loaded.

"Seeing is worth seeing, Dr. Hudson." There was a sticky smile in his voice.

"This sentence is also for you, Sam...or Mr. Conceto," Adlia slowly put down the luggage, raised her hands, and turned to the person on the right, "Are we talking like this?"

"You know me." He said firmly.

"I even want to congratulate you on getting out of prison." Adlia's heart was beating wildly, and her face never revealed a trace of anxiety. "The professor asked you to come?"

"Since you are so smart, I'm afraid you also know the purpose of looking for you."

"Because of the Redhead Society case? That's really innovative." Adlia raised the corner of her mouth.

"Then you are too naive, doctor, I am really disappointed." He still raised his gun and pointed it at Adlia's head.

Adlia laughed softly: "The professor saw me at Branston Manor in Hampshire."

Sam, or Conceto, did not answer.

"The professor may be trying to win me over, but you're not," Adelia sighed, "Am I right?"

"We don't want to," he said with a cigar in the corner of his mouth. "We respect the professor's ambition, but he has spent too much energy on organ transplantation. I have given up, and he has given up, doctor. But you showed up."

Ah, sure enough.

Adlia even felt her hands a little sour: "Are you going to kill me like this?"

"I am kind, and I have chosen two ways to die for you." Conceto took a deep puff on the cigar, exhaling the disgusting smell of smoke, "For the sake of your cooperation, I can let you die." Pain less."

"May I take the liberty to ask again, who is that woman?" Adelia seemed very obedient and gave up struggling.

"A person you killed," he sneered, "it seems that you have no fear of death."

"If you are the ones following me, you should know that I was a person who was determined to die a long time ago," Adlia smiled. Under the gunpoint, she slowly walked to another sofa and sat comfortably. Next, "Have you prepared a fire for me?"

"Yes, it just so happens that this club doesn't need to exist anymore," he said.

"So what's time doing now?" Adelia sighed.

"The professor wants me to have a good talk with you."

"But you don't want to talk about it."

"But lighting it too early would make him suspicious."

"Ah, well," Adlia raised her eyebrows, "Clint, I mean Mr. Pastor is still sitting in prison."

"You have too many questions," he said.

She laughed, she didn't expect him to lose patience so easily, and at this time, she suddenly lost her mind, not knowing what Sherlock was doing at this moment.

Sherlock, who got an unexpected gift, went to the laboratory as usual. He thought it should be a good day, but accidents happened frequently. The original reagents were lost by the cleaning staff, and the labels were dirty when they were dumped. The assistant who was supposed to be there suddenly had a stomachache and asked for leave.

All this made him feel a little bad.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, he returned home earlier than usual, just wanting to talk to the person who was waiting for him and get some comfort.

"Extraordinary, extraordinarily! The Reval Club is on fire! The death toll has reached ten!"

Newsboys waved the latest papers.

Until now Sherlock had not imagined what awaited him.He tossed a coin in the past, got the newspaper, and was not in a hurry to read it.

Back on Baker Street, Adlia was not at home either, and the difference was that the curtains were drawn—in order to prevent others from spying on their relationship, they usually closed the curtains when they were at home.Sherlock looked downstairs, everything was as usual, there was nothing special.It seems that this time, she might have to directly discuss the cost with the owner of the apartment, otherwise she wouldn't have stayed until this time.

So he sat on the sofa, flipped through the newspaper boredly, and decided to wait until she came back.

But he didn't wait.

The author says:

When I think of Lao Fu's birthday tomorrow, but I wrote such a terrible plot, I feel a little cruel.

My friend said that I just couldn't bear to abuse the old man, scratching my head

Let’s just say it’s sweet or not, I think it’s quite sweet.Scratching my head, I dare not reply to comments these days.

感谢在2022-01-0400:27:53~2022-01-0420:23:38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 who threw mines: Little Dongdong, 1 Planck;

Thanks to the little angels who irrigate the nutrient solution: 10 bottles of L, Moonlight Three Points; 1 bottle of Rain Stop Jiangnan;

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