[Comprehensive] Great detective is haunted

That night Weiwei consciously lay on the bed for nothing... Although the sofa bed was not put away, it was obviously just a decoration.

She was lying on the bed, playing with her mobile phone, thinking that brother Gaston Marco had gone to the other side of the high firewall again so he didn't reply to her, feeling a little melancholy.

About Sherlock, she remembered everything in her heart, but she couldn't talk about it.

I wanted to speak up several times and mentioned it to Gaston, but every time I held it in my throat and didn't say it.

As if she had a secret to herself.

Having a common secret is really a good way to improve the relationship, Weiwei thought, although she didn't know if it counted as progress.

She didn't want to leave, but she still had to.

It wasn't pushing Sherlock to Jasmine, but she clearly knew that Sherlock's good attitude towards Jasmine was only because Jasmine was helpful to him.Even the beggars on the street are more helpful to Sherlock than Vivi. After all, Sherlock not only has a small team, but also has a unique information network for beggars.Although Jasmine is only an ordinary forensic doctor, Jasmine's forensic ability can benefit Sherlock more than Vivi can bring in any aspect.

Weiwei knew that she was quite useless.

Although if she leaves Sherlock, she can be on her own, and she doesn't have to be just a little assistant by Sherlock's side, but she feels like staying by his side, so she always has to give something.

Lie detection is a way, but she is still a half-assed, no matter what, she will go back.

She was a little dazed as she lay down, maybe it was because his breath was too strong in the bed, making people addicted.

When Sherlock returned to the room, what he saw was the scene of the dove occupying the magpie's nest.

If Weiwei could see clearly, he would definitely be able to tell that Sherlock's appearance was about to get out of control. He had an addiction and became dangerous.

That manic-depressive feeling rushed and slammed his aorta to spread throughout his body.

"Sherlock?" Vivi felt Sherlock approaching, and didn't sit up, but lay on the bed and called his name in a low voice.

His breathing became a little rough, and Weiwei immediately realized that he was unconscious at the moment, and quickly sat up: "Sherlock, are you okay, I..."

She turned on the desk lamp sideways, and then got out of bed in her slippers.

"pi!"

He growled, his voice changing tune.

He spoke in an almost theatrical tone: "Don't you want to leave a long time ago? Then you'd better get out. I don't need you here, I don't need you here at all."

His facial expression muscles were probably out of control, that unhappy, almost contemptuous expression was unreservedly shown on his face, but his eyes were slack.

Weiwei stepped into the slippers. She knew that what he said might be angry, but she couldn't help but feel a pain in her heart—she thought she wouldn't care, maybe it was the night that made people take off their defenses and disguises, She bit her lip.

She knew that although he was irritable now, he was not too out of control.

So she silently picked up the quilt... of course, the quilt that was neatly folded on the sofa bed and hadn't been covered for a long time (in fact, it should have been put away long ago, but Weiwei kept confiscating it, maybe it was trying to cover it up), and then decided to roll out mellowly. To bother him... there was nothing in the room anyway, she had gone through it many times, and if she tested positive for him tomorrow, she would call Mycroft in just one phone call, of course she could.

It's just a pity that she is going to sleep on the sofa for a while.

When she was quietly about to go around Sherlock and get out, she was suddenly pulled back.

"What are you going to do?" His tone was deep, without any emotion.

Suddenly, a kind of grievance rushed to the top of Weiwei's head.

"I'm getting out." She said casually.

He shot quickly, directly grabbed her shoulder and pressed against the door——Weiwei felt the pain from the sudden impact, and his eyes were blindfolded for a second, and the whole person was pressed against the door panel by him even with the quilt On the road, he stretched out his hand to pinch her neck again, before Weiwei could resist, his kiss fell.

The air seemed to be... stagnant.

His kiss was quick and fierce, perhaps not like a kiss, but robbing her of breathing, even his hand on her neck never let go, Weiwei only felt that the airway was constricted.

She tightly held the hand that was pinching her with both hands, trying to break it but she had no strength.

Or maybe she...

This is Weiwei's first kiss with someone, the first time in two lifetimes.

She didn't know if others were like this, it was as if she gave Sherlock everything during the exchange of lips and tongues - his kiss was fast and urgent, and he was overbearing, and there was even... that kind of voice in the air.

Hypoxic and delirious, yet he could feel his pounding heartbeat as if it was about to be sucked away by him.

She felt like she was going to faint... faint between his lips, tongue, and fingers.

He didn't imprison her anymore, but she didn't push him away either.

"Do you like it?"

His husky voice is alluring.

Weiwei even thought inappropriately that maybe she was committing a crime by being contaminated by him at this moment.

The quilt fell to the ground at some point, and he let out an inexplicable laugh with her lips in his mouth, and slipped his hand from between her neck to the back of her head.Her slender neck was so fragile that it seemed as if it would break with a slight pinch.He caressed ambiguously, lingering on the side of her arteries, as if a vampire inspected the position where he was about to embrace.

His lips are soft.

Weiwei wanted to speak, but this time he didn't take advantage of her, but swallowed her tongue into his mouth, forcing her to take the initiative, as if sucking away the soul of a person.

His hand slid down her neck to her neckline, the loose pajamas neckline was forcibly pulled and deformed, one side of the neck was tightly strangled, and the other side was pulled down the shoulders.His fiery palms were pressed against his shoulders, and his fingertips seemed to be stroking her shoulder blades.

She was so soft that she couldn't move.

His breathing became heavier.

He finally let go of her soft lips, and moved the kiss down like a master without a teacher. Weiwei was crushed under his kiss, trembling, but extraordinarily... touching.

"Sherlock?" Her voice was weak, with a little crying sound.

It shouldn't be like this, even if she likes him...it shouldn't be like this.

He was biting his collarbone, loosening the grip on her hands.

But she didn't just push him away, but suddenly hugged his neck tightly, as if she put the whole person in his arms.

His movements finally stopped, and the intense heartbeats of the two were intertwined. Sherlock seemed to have finally regained his senses - he was going to push her away almost in a second, but he didn't.

He reached out and touched the girl's golden hair.

He likes this kind of touch, he knows in his heart, it's just...

Sherlock narrowed his eyebrows, lowered his hands, and lifted Weiwei up as if he was holding a baby, then put him on the bed, and lay down on it himself.

In the dark night, he saw her eyes like crystal eyes.

"sleep."

He said bluntly, ignoring the little quilt that was thrown at the door, pulled the quilt on the bed to cover her and himself, and stuffed the clumsy people into his arms in the same posture as before.

go to bed.

Enough out of control tonight.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Sherlock woke up early the next morning.

He was so used to holding a thing in his arms, he even got into the habit of smoothing someone's unruly hair first in the morning, and today was no exception.

When he looked down at her, he found that her eyes were red. This was the second time he saw her cry.

It took him two or three seconds to get all his memories back into place.Then, his expression suddenly became complicated.

That fat ass Mycroft was really right sometimes.

For example, he really wanted to take away his students a long time ago :)

Sherlock's expression suddenly became deep and complicated, and one of his hands was freed to pinch her chin. She frowned because of discomfort, but she didn't wake up.

Just like this, he is already familiar enough that even with his eyes closed, he can clearly tell the angle of her eyes when she smiles, and how many teeth she can show when she laughs wildly.

Sherlock can judge everything about a person when he sees him, but he doesn't remember, but he remembers everything about viky and his past students.

When he realized that he might have moved some emotions that he shouldn't have, all the details that he ignored before were strung together—in fact, he didn't ignore them, he just refused to think about them, and didn't take these things to heart.

But now that he cared, those things rushed to appear in his brain, ostentatiously showing his presence.

It's not a big deal.

He stared at her lips and thought for a long time.

Although what happened last night can only be regarded as a transfer of desire/desire, it also shows that he has desire/desire for her.

This is a difficult decision.

He bowed his head and kissed her again.

This time he was much gentler, as if savoring it carefully.He didn't let go until someone was suffocated as if he was about to wake up.

Terrible.

he thinks.

Haven't brushed my teeth yet.

He let go of his hand, and Weiwei lowered her head to his arms again, found a comfortable position and did not move.

Sherlock looked at someone's messy hair and didn't respond.

After a while, as if he couldn't bear such a stupid self, he frowned fiercely, and finally pulled out his hands—hands gently, and sat up straight, then sat for a while, and then looked back at the man because he The guy who got up and looked a little uneasy curled up again, then turned his head to face the wardrobe in a daze.

Well, if, indeed, that's the case.

If it's her, it's not impossible.

Maybe, try again?

He snorted, turned his head again, and cast that thoughtful gaze on her again.

Sure enough, I still have to try again.

Practice is the only criterion for testing truth.