Boyfriend Development Program

marymosrtan is dead.

When the news of his death came, John was in the kitchen struggling with what to do tonight so that his good roommate who was "boring to eat" could have dinner successfully.

Then, Sherlock appeared at the kitchen door with a blank face, and his cold voice cut through the sonata of pots and pans: "Mary is dead."

"Dangdang!"

The spatula in John's hand was missing, and it fell to the ground with a dull sound.He didn't care about so much: "Dead? How, how... Oh my God!"

In the end, he found that he could no longer utter that cold word.

Sherlock pursed his lower lip: "Game console."

"She...Mary also has a game console?" John looked shocked, he never knew that her fiancée was also on this list.

... Also, I have put my whole body and mind on the man in front of me, how can I have room for others, let alone distracted attention to a small thing on others! John lowered his eyelids, hesitated for a moment, and finally asked in a trembling voice: "Death from the game console. Well, what is her mission?"

Thinking of what happened yesterday, the little man had an ominous premonition in his heart.

John shifted his body's center of gravity uneasily.

The curly-haired man didn't answer him, but changed the subject and asked, "Did you confess to Mary yesterday afternoon?"

This question followed Sherlock's usual style, calm and indifferent, without the slightest emotion, but it made John's heart tighten, and a vague and sharp sadness spread.The little man's mouth was a bit astringent, he licked those places with the tip of his tongue, his voice became vague and distant: "I canceled the wedding."

"Mary really loves you." Sherlock took a deep look at John and said calmly, "Even though she is the master's subordinate."

The cold and cruel words pulled off the scabbed reality and presented it bloody in front of John.

John raised his head, his eyes fell outside the window, the overwhelming gray filled the whole world, the icy and fine raindrops knocked on the window with a biting cold wind, and the whole city suddenly darkened, as if it had been trapped by the slanting wind and drizzle.

The icy air floats in the room, and with the faint light, it falls straight into people's hearts.

After staring blankly for a while, John couldn't help lowering his eyelids.Letting the vague sadness in his mouth turn into howling and raging pain, he said to himself: "Love me... Hey, you're right."

Three days ago, directly below the Parliament Building.

Inside the compartment of the underground abandoned platform.

"Tick tock, tick tock...", the countdown to the bomb sounded in the silent carriage.

Sherlock pinched the board, the gray-green under his eyes seemed to be frozen.

"John, we're in trouble."

"Oh come on, Sherlock, you must have a way."

Sherlock looked at John, with a face full of trust in John, with a strange expression on his face: "No, not this time."

"That is to say, you have no choice? There is no way at all?!" John looked around, "Why did you come here alone knowing that there was a bomb! Why didn't you prepare the knowledge and tools on how to dismantle the bomb in advance!" He breathed a sigh of relief , "Sherlock, do you know that this will kill us!"

"John, I don't know." Sherlock sighed, looking straight at his good doctor, "To be precise, I didn't expect that."

"Well, I'm going to die anyway." John saw the seriousness in Sherlock's eyes, and the anger in his heart seemed to be drowned out by a basin of cold water. He picked up a seat and sat down with a calm tone, "While there is still time 1 minute and 30 seconds, hurry up."

"Go? Where to go?"

"Anywhere! Hurry up!" John stood up, walked to Sherlock, and pushed his good roommate hard, "Anyway, you are Sherlock Holmes, there is always a way to escape."

"1 minute and 29 seconds, John, I'm just consulting detectives, not Superman or Iron Man, no powers." Sherlock shrugged, grabbed John and pushed his hand hard, "There is no doubt about it. John, yours IQ dropped again."

John lowered his hand dejectedly.

The little man became silent. In fact, Sherlock didn't seem to know what to say, but just stared at him with eyes stained with a thick dark color.

"Tick tock, tick tock"...

There seemed to be a crisp countdown ringing in my ears, like the death bell.

"Listen, Sherlock, I'm finding this hard to talk about."

Finally, John broke the silence. He didn't want to have regrets after death, let alone the object of regret was right in front of him.He licked his lips, thinking about his words: "I think you already know what I think about you... um."

Sherlock raised his head suddenly, staring at John firmly, his pale and handsome face changed for an unprecedented time, and finally calmed down.He looked at John, waiting for the little man to continue.

"You are the smartest, bravest, handsomest and most..." John paused, trying to make his feelings less intense, and trying to describe the deepest feelings hidden in his heart in the calmest and most insignificant tone. The secret, "I love you."

"I know." Sherlock was calm.

"Yes, of course, you know." John smiled, he muttered, and caught the complicated light in the curly-haired man's eyes, "You're a smart bastard, what else in this world you don't know " He found that the words "I love you" are actually not as difficult to say as he imagined, perhaps because of the strong backing of death, once the words are spoken, they seem much smoother, "I don't know why. Attracted to you, Jesus, I'm straight."

Speaking of this, the little man seemed to have thought of something, and laughed out loud: "I was attracted to you so unknowingly, damn it, I could have married Mary, even if I like you, I could have married someone else ...and the mirror image disillusioned me. Well, I'm going to die anyway, I thought this secret could be taken to my grave. Well, for God's sake, you just have to be responsible for being anti-social and anti-human .”

Maybe he said too much in one breath, but John listened.

Sherlock just looked at the little man quietly, and said calmly, "John, forgive me for hurting you."

"Forgive?" There seemed to be some kind of emotion building up in those eyes, John couldn't see clearly, he just kept on talking, "Yes, of course, God, of course I will forgive you." His voice began to lower, approaching Raving: "...For God's sake, I love you. I just hope that in the next life, I will be careful not to meet someone like you who married a worker as his wife. No matter how bad it is, I won't meet you..."

"No." There were emotional fluctuations in the cold voice.

John looked up suspiciously: "wha...?"

His good roommate looked at him blankly, John shrugged his shoulders, knowing that he had hallucinations again: well, right encephalitis has worsened recently, it is normal for Yeh to hallucinate.

"John, you are destined to be attracted by dangerous people and things." Sherlock's tone gradually softened, and he looked at his good doctor with a gentle smile on his face, "In this life, in the next life...uh, if there is next life."

John squirmed his lips, as if trying to defend himself, and finally admitted that Sherlock was as damn sharp as ever: "You're right in hell."

"And...well." This time it was difficult for Sherlock to speak.

"and?"

"And I love you too."

It took John a minute to digest Sherlock's somewhat embarrassing phrase.

As a result, he jumped up like a dog whose tail was stepped on: "Wha...?!"

"Don't doubt your hearing, John." The curly-haired man seemed a little impatient, and he shifted his gaze unnaturally, "isaid, iloveyou."

"But didn't you say you married Work as your wife?"

John suspected that he was in a dream, or a hallucination, in short, it could never be reality.

"Papa papa." There was a burst of applause.

John looked in the direction of the applause in surprise, there was light in the darkness, and then there was a crowd of people, Mycrof and Scotland Yard appeared in front of them.

Mycroft walked up to Sherlock with a few steps, smiling slightly as if looking at a monster: "Oh my dear brother, your confession really surprised me."

"Shut up, mycroft!"

John was taken aback: "So, it's all true? Sherlcok, what you just said is—"

There was a trace of flush on Sherlock's pale face, and he interrupted John's next words: "I said shut up, John!"

Mycroft coughed a few times.

"Have you caught Moran?" The consulting detective pretended to be calm.

"Of course." Mycroft clapped his hands, and a man who looked like a policeman escorted a middle-aged man who was elegantly dressed but had a ferocious face, "He was about to abscond, but he was caught."

"This is Sebastian Moran?" John looked at the middle-aged man.

"Sherlockholmes." Moran ignored John, instead staring at the consulting detective viciously like a vulture, "I've been thinking about one thing since the day you killed Moriarty."

A smile quickly formed on the face of the curly-haired man: "How do you kill me?"

"Yes. I finally got my chance."

Moran's tone was calm, even a little smug.

John couldn't help but want to frustrate his prestige, and immediately interrupted the man's words: "But you have already been arrested."

"No, there's that person." Moran laughed hysterically, his fingers slid across Sherlock, John, and everyone present, "You will die at the hands of that person. You, you, and all of you."

"That person?" Sherlock frowned, "Master?"

In Cardiff in 1869, the doctor showed a dignified face and told the master that his mortal enemy was also on this planet.

"Master? You can also call him that."

Moran, who restrained his smile, was like a beast waiting for an opportunity. He licked his lips and showed a dangerous smile——

But I think you are more familiar with this name, haroldsaxon·""The author has something to say: the next day will be updated until the end of [-]v[-]