Baker Street Grocery Store [Comprehensive]

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The disadvantages of wearing a dress to a dinner party are obvious at once.

Sherlock looked at the slender lady next to her. She took the white coat from the waiter next to her and put it on. The coat was covered with a dress, which was indescribably weird. Tsk, what poisoned Clara's aesthetics? ?

Fortunately, Clara is alcoholic, so she doesn't care about the weird outfit at all, walking side by side on the road with Sherlock, from the eyes of passers-by, talking and laughing is very pleasant.

"Spring is here," Clara said with emotion, "Time flies like an arrow, and two or three years have passed in a flash."

This is a good time for a cliché.Clara, who is usually elusive, is especially talkative after drinking. Sherlock didn't intend to let go of this opportunity, so he asked her, "What two or three years?"

"We've known each other for two or three years..." Clara turned to look at him in confusion, "Why, don't you remember?"

This serious look seemed that the two had really known each other for two or three years, but he had only been in London for three years, and he had known Clara for at most two years, strictly speaking, it should be one and a half years.

"You knew me three years ago?" Sherlock was quite calm, without showing any signs.

"Yeah." Clara described it seriously, unsuspectingly, "I remember that when you first came to London, your arrogant and arrogant appearance was no less than what you are now."

She chuckled: "When you picked up that skull, the landlord almost called the police."

He didn't remember this kind of thing, and Sherlock didn't go into it. She let her talk nonsense, and suddenly there was a street musician playing a violin across the street. The music of the violin made Clara quiet, and her eyes were fixed on on the opposite side.

She turned her head: "Shall we go and have a look?"

Sherlock glanced at her and remembered the concert poster at her home. He wanted to agree, but suddenly realized how much time this matter was wasting, so he refused, "I think we should—"

"Okay, stop nagging!" Clara grabbed his hand and walked forward, "Let's take a look! Go home soon!"

The drunken Clara exerted all her strength, and Sherlock had no right to speak under her strange strength, and was basically dragged by her without any power to fight back.

Then the huge poster stuck on the window of the piano store behind them was revealed - "Journey of Classical Music, Capriccio for Piano and Cello in the Sky".

Clara has a lot of interest in the violin, and Sherlock was dragged by her hand and stood on the side of the street "appreciating" the music in a daze.

The down-and-out street musician saw Clara and seemed to have a good impression of this beautiful lady. He walked straight towards her with a violin on his back, looked at her affectionately, and became lively with a change of tune.

Very poor pick-up technique.

Sherlock turned his head and rolled his eyes by the way, but it's a pity that the person who was holding his hand liked this.

Clara stared at the street violinist with a smile on her face, and the other violinist received her encouragement to show her courteousness even harder.Sherlock reckoned that if this went on like this, he wouldn't be able to get home at dawn, so he coughed lightly and glanced at the violinist indifferently.

Of course, the other party noticed the holding hands of the two, saw the man's eyes, retreated tactfully, and continued to be active in the street music.

"The interpretation of this song is not good. You actually like such a poor expression. I really don't know if your aesthetic is—" He said mercilessly, but when he turned his head, he saw Clara staring at him with burning eyes.

Sherlock paused, looked at her for a few seconds, held back the following words, and then stopped looking at her: "Go home."

"Actually, honey," Clara said with a smile, "Although I'm not very proficient in music theory, I can hear his happiness." Clara pointed to her ear, "Maybe I don't understand the technique, But I can feel his happiness."

Clara was finally willing to move and waved to the musician behind her. The latter raised his bow and smiled at her as farewell.

"Sherlock, you should have feelings too," Clara said, "I remember that your violin music is also very beautiful and delicate, but it is also very quiet, and you can hardly feel other emotions."

Clara said regretfully: "It reminds me of Mr. White's daughter—do you remember, Betty White, she was confronted by a pedophile adult male, and if you made music for it... "

Sherlock frowned, not understanding what she meant.

"You must not be able to write it," Clara said regretfully, "so why don't you feel more emotions? Of course, you may be able to imitate these emotions, for example, you can pretend to love me, pretend to be afraid, pretend to be in pain, etc. You can do both, and you observe well, so your imitation is perfect. But why not try to really feel the emotions? That's not a bad thing."

"I can feel your emotions," Sherlock said, then turned to look at her. "You're relaxed now."

"Of course," Clara smiled brightly at him, "it's true, I'm very relaxed when I'm with you."

Sherlock stopped, looked at her, and asked, "Why?"

Clara looked at him, and for the first time, she didn't want to show her heart so loudly, and just smiled.

"You know there is a reason."

A rare subtlety, but also a very Clara-style subtlety.

Drunkness and sobriety are inseparable, no matter which state, as long as it is necessary, it can be an excuse for people.

After returning from the United States, she has vaguely felt the changes in the situation, and gradually felt her own fall.

But the grotesque things will always come to an end one day, and the things that are superficial must pass away. At that time, as a member of this "superficial", she must stand at the forefront and live and die with her world.

Holmes is dangerous, which is why she refused to have more intersection with Sherlock's life in the first place.

Once you get close, you can't stop. If you get too close, she will be seen through, and her lies will be exposed one by one, but the ridiculous thing is that she is a lie, so... What is waiting for her in the end?

What else can it be.

For the first time, Clara felt such a strong desire in herself, more heroic than moths to a flame.From the beginning, she self-righteously wanted to tease the abyss, but now the result is that she is attracted and swallowed by the abyss.

The collision of women and alcohol breeds only melancholy.

Clara walked in front, wearing a ridiculous combination of coat and dress, her hair honestly thrown back, and the rhythmic tap of her high heels was louder than the bustle of traffic.

Sherlock followed her, with the sound of her high heels as the background music, and glanced at the oncoming passers-by left and right. Their retrograde movement on the right side of the road made the expressions of these people fall into his eyes.

He can see the labels of these people at a glance.Doctors, engineers, rich men, homeless people, whether they have had an affair, whether they have drug addiction, where they hung out last night, just experienced criticism from their boss, or received a rose from their loved one.

The emotions expressed by their expressions can also be seen at a glance, such as happiness, madness, indifference, frustration, surprise, and anxiety.

But if you want to feel—

Goodness - oh no, the sound of the crowd was driving him crazy!

However, among these voices, there was a voice that had not changed its tone, with a strong rhythm, easily adjusted all the hustle and bustle, and pulled him back to the real world.Clara walked in front of him, her back was as attractive as ever.

He suddenly reached out and grabbed her, staring at him in disbelief.

"Clara, who are you?"

The increasingly dizzy Clara digested his question, paused, blinked bewilderedly, and then asked hesitantly, "Your wife?"

Sherlock: "..."

I can't believe it, he actually believed this drunk's bullshit just now, and really felt some messy emotions.

The grocery store key was indeed in the proprietress's pocket, and Sherlock tried to throw her by the side of the road several times but failed because she had no energy to walk a few steps, and refused to get off her life and death.

Because Clara held him tightly around his neck and just wouldn't let go.

Sherlock simply carried her back directly.He walked straight through the store door, threw Clara directly on the bed, and started babbling.

"I am very dissatisfied with today's date. I think it was a very wrong decision to ask you out from yesterday. Of course it is not your fault. Everything must be 'credited' to John. I will tell him this. I will come to ask you out again, I hope you see the truth clearly," he added at the end, "Your wine taste is too bad."

Clara gave a perfunctory "um" and waved her hands, as if she was too lazy to talk to him.

"Clara Cooper?"

The person on the bed heard even breathing.

Well, the lady is very nice.

Sherlock felt helpless against this female hooligan again, he could only reach out and poke her forehead fiercely, gritted his teeth and went out, he would rather deal with all the criminals in London than Clara Cooper.

Sherlock, who was thinking this way, returned to 221b with a long face. John saw that he was back, and immediately asked him, "How is your night?"

"Very bad." Sherlock took off his coat, looked at his roommate and said, "Clara Cooper was a drunk fool, and dragged me crazy on the street. I was crazy enough to ask her out for dinner. Oh, no You know exactly how I made this decision!"

"Isn't it for developing a relationship?" Watson raised his eyebrows.

"No fun," Sherlock repeated, sitting down on the sofa, "very boring."

"Oh, please, since you're so bored with this dinner," Watson raised his hand and glanced at his watch, "then why did you waste four hours on this dinner? Four full hours!"

"She was half an hour late, 10 minutes for dinner, refused to take a taxi after the end, insisted on walking back, was drunk and dragged me wandering in the streets and alleys. There is no way to resist."

Sherlock's face was gloomy: "There must never be a next time."

"Really?" Watson took out two tickets from his pocket, "Uh... I also booked you another date."

"Why are you so active? What about Sarah?" Sherlock asked him immediately, "I haven't been in London these days, and you should have had a pretty good time."

Watson sighed: "Sarah and I broke up, otherwise where do you think the tickets for this concert came from?"

He sat on the sofa and handed the ticket to Sherlock: "I heard about this concert a few months ago. I booked the ticket early and planned to take her to enjoy the 'Sky Capriccio', but unexpectedly, I And Sarah ended earlier than the concert..."

"Very poetic, as expected of a well-known detective novel blogger, but I'm not interested in your failed relationship experience," Sherlock took a look at the ticket, "Piano and cello duet? Oh, I don't want to—"

He paused, thinking of the concert flyer he saw at the boss's wife's house yesterday, and when he sent her back, he also saw this flyer on the table...

On the street just now, she seemed to have feelings for the violin, so how about...

no no no!don't want!This thought is the root of all evil!

Sherlock put the ticket on the coffee table: "No, John, you can go out and meet a girlfriend now, it's much easier than inviting Clara to a concert."

"I think it must be too late." Watson pointed, "I don't have time to develop a relationship with my new girlfriend for the concert in the evening three days later. Besides, if I go to this concert again, I will also feel that things are people. No, it won't be a wonderful experience... Cough, the location of this ticket is very good, you and the proprietress can experience it for me."

"I'm never going to York Clara Cooper again—"

"Will not!"

"I swear," Sherlock sneered, "I will never go on a date with Clara Cooper again in my lifetime."

However, the next day, Clara woke up again with a hangover, and immediately saw a ticket on the table, with a line of scrawled handwriting next to it——

"In the afternoon of three days, see you at the music. Don't let me see you appearing in front of me these days, I need to calm down. - SH."

Clara froze, didn't yesterday's broken date drive Sherlock crazy?He actually came to ask her out?Was Sherlock Holmes a masochist?

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Someone's instant slap in the face.

Dead Tsundere Charlotte's Dating Journey.