[Zhongyingmei] The heroine is naturally cute

London, 221B.

Watson just came back from the supermarket, holding two big bags of daily necessities and ingredients in his hands.He heard the sound of Sherlock crackling and firing guns from downstairs, what is he going crazy so early in the morning?Obviously, a big case was solved yesterday.

"Sherlock!" Watson looked in shock at his collection of Iron Man autograph posters nailed to the wall. It was covered with bullet holes, and his face was beyond recognition.He put the shopping bag on the table with a snap, his face flushed with anger: "What are you crazy about? Why did Iron Man mess with you!"

He messed with me everywhere!Sherlock threw herself into the sofa, staring at the poster that was no longer recognizable, damn it, she smiled so sweetly at that old, short psychopath who likes to put herself in a big tin can , Didn't she say that she likes him the most?He really is a heartless little liar.

There is also Batman who likes to wear cat ears on his head. If John is not a fan of Batman, his marksmanship can be better.

What's more damning is that clown, with his bad taste and hot eyes, who dared to hurt her!

Sherlock felt that hellfire was burning in his body, and he wanted to destroy everything angrily.Although her news was suppressed, he still learned the truth of the matter through superb hacking skills.

Rosa (blank eyes.JPG): I really should 818 my online voyeur boyfriend to book Summer Curly Hair

Watson had never seen Sherlock look so irritable, like some hidden emotions in his heart, like a beast finally broke free from its cage, and vented out of control.

He had some doubts in his heart: "Are you taking drugs?"

Watson knew that Sherlock had a history of drug use, although he behaved well during the time they lived together.

"No!" Sherlock replied impatiently, how could he do something she didn't like.

Watson frowned, no matter how slow his reaction was, he realized that Sherlock's irritability this time was not because there were no new cases.

"I'm going to Jenny's house. It looks like you need to be alone for a while."

Hearing the sound of Watson leaving, Sherlock stood up from the sofa, took out a book from the bookshelf and flipped through it. There was a sketch portrait between the pages of the book, and his fingers carefully traced the delicate and beautiful outline of the girl.

She left, but she never left.

He surrendered, she destroyed his proud reason, and she occupied his whole heart.

Deep sadness flashed in Sherlock's eyes. He missed her, missed her calling him Mr. over and over again in a coquettish tone, missed her cold tangerine taste, her soft lips and wet eyes.

He closed the book, the impetuousness in his body dissipated, his eyes were firm and persistent, since she was the one who provoked him first, he would never allow her to withdraw.

He dialed Mycroft's phone, and the phone was connected after two beeps: "You should fulfill your promise."

Mycroft's voice was as calm and steady as ever: "Have you made a decision?"

"You talk too much nonsense, you should pay more attention to your increasing weight and rising hairline." Sherlock was always impatient with Mycroft.

Mycroft choked. In fact, he lost 3 pounds. His hairline is the common standard for British men. However, for the sake of the Holmes family's inheritance, he still resisted the desire to bicker with Sherlock.

"as you wish."

"And I wish you a pleasant trip to America."

After hanging up the phone, Mycroft looked at the photo of Iron Man and Rosa dancing on the computer screen, and the corners of his mouth slowly curled up.

Holmes always wins.

In the United States on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, Rosa didn't know that someone had made a secret decision. She rolled around in a warm quilt and rolled herself into a wriggling caterpillar. Serve yourself.

The curtains that opened automatically let in the sunshine, and New York is still bright today.

She pulled back the quilt and put on the dressing gown that flew over. Today is the weekend, and she has a lot of time to kill.Washing up while listening to the morning news, as usual.

The terrorist attack made by the clown at the Gotham Hotel last night became the headlines today. The feats of Iron Man and Batman became the focus of reports, but her figure was completely hidden, and she was not mentioned in the news at all. See It turned out that Tony and Wayne teamed up to suppress her news.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Although the timeliness of the news is very short, everyone will soon be attracted by other news, but she still does not want to be the focus of everyone's attention, which affects normal life too much.

She soaked cereal and toasted two loaves of bread for breakfast, and although Tony had given her paid vacation, she had a whole day to take her time, but she just wasn't in the mood for a fancy breakfast.

After what happened last night, she felt a little tired psychologically. What the clown said made her brood, and there was always a premonition that villains from all over the world were going to find her.

She sat cross-legged on the sofa, a sentence of commands burst out of her mouth, and the objects in the room made various actions according to her requirements, as if they had gained life.

"Decline, bloom."

The lily in the glass vase went through a reincarnation in a few seconds. She frowned and had a new guess about her superpower-it is better to say that she has the power to control life than her words. Have control.

She animates the dead and controls the life, death and perception of the living.Her ability has nothing to do with language, but she can only use language to display superpowers. She vaguely knows the reason, but she doesn't want to recall that nightmarish memory.

She let out a long sigh, watching her hands fall into silence, with deep struggle in her eyes.

The cell phone on the coffee table rang, and Rosa picked it up.

"Sweetheart, come see a psychiatrist with me." Tony invited on the other end of the phone.

Until she got in the car, Rosa was still confused by Tony's request. Is he still a child?She was only willing to see a psychiatrist with her company. According to Jarvis, Tony’s psychiatrist is an absolute authority in this field, and is even expected to win the Nobel Prize in Medicine, opening up a new position for psychology in the medical field.And the treatment of Tony lived up to the reputation of the psychiatrist and was very effective.

Tony poked her head with his finger: "It's not what you think, the person who has an appointment with Dr. Lecter is you, not me."

Rosa opened her eyes wide and pointed to herself: "Why should I see a psychiatrist?"

"Baby, last night you were thrown out of the window by that crazy clown!!"

Rosa looked at him speechlessly: "Batman saved me, you can see that I don't have dark circles under my eyes, you know I didn't have a nightmare last night, and I don't have any psychological problems."

"Batman's dark outfit is more scary, okay?"

Rosa gave him a fixed look, raised her hands and said in surrender, "Okay, okay, I'm going to see a psychiatrist."

He has already started to black Bruce Baby, can she not agree?

Tony patted her on the head with satisfaction: "Hey, I'll take you to eat delicious food later."

This coaxing tone, now he treats her like a child.

Dr. Lecter's psychological clinic is located in a quiet neighborhood. The car stopped slowly. Rosa saw Tom Rhodes coming out of it through the car window. She saw him driving away before pushing the door. She returned the portrait After that, the two didn't talk anymore, it's better not to create embarrassment.

"You?" Rosa asked Tony, standing outside the car door.

"I'll pick you up later."

Rosa waved to him, closed the door, and watched the car out of sight.She rang the doorbell, and was taken to the consultation room by the front desk assistant: "Please wait a moment, Dr. Lecter will come later."

Rosa looked at the furnishings of the room with slight curiosity. The red-brown wood furniture was full of smooth lines and classical aesthetics. There were two rows of bookshelves on the wall, where records and books were placed respectively. This is a person with elegant taste.

In the center of the room is a group of sofas for hospitality. The most eye-catching thing is the large bouquet of roses placed in a black pottery vase on the coffee table in the middle. She sat on the sofa and bent slightly, sniffing the fragrance of the roses. laugh.

"This is the Damask rose, the oldest rose in the world."

Rosa raised her head when she heard the voice, and was a little surprised to see the person coming: "It's you?" He was the one who prevented her from falling in front of the coffee shop last time. He seemed to be only in his 30s, and he was a superstar in the psychology world. It's a bit young for me.

He didn't look surprised, the three-piece blue striped suit set him off elegantly and powerfully, but his tone was unexpectedly gentle: "We meet again, beautiful lady."

"Just call me Rosamund."

He glanced at the roses on the tea table and said, "Compared with the roses of the world, my bouquet of roses pales in comparison."

"Thank you." For such straightforward praise, Rosa has also learned the frankness of Westerners, rather than the modest excuses of Easterners.

His slender and straight legs were tense during his movements, and he strode towards the record rack, picked on it, and said firmly: "You didn't come to ask me for help, but you don't need help."

Rosa frowned, and clenched her hands, she had a feeling of being seen through.

"You?" Her words were cut off before she could speak.

He picked out the record, took out the vinyl record from the paper sleeve, put it on the record player, and gently put the needle on it: "Let's enjoy the music."

Rosa's frown deepened, he had mastered the rhythm of the conversation, this feeling was really bad.