[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

The beautiful girl stared blankly at his handsome profile, and stuttered a bit:

"When...of course you can."

She moved out of the way, and Sherlock supported Ludwig's shoulders, pinning her on the small leather chair.

Only then did the girl playing the piano wake up:

"Sorry, sir, I forgot just now... Playing the piano requires a fee. We are a non-profit organization that raises water funds for Tunisia. The children there can drink clean water every month..."

Without looking at her, Sherlock took a note from his pocket and handed it over.

The girl reached out to take the money, was struck by his indifference, her beautiful face darkened, and she slowly stopped talking.

Sherlock turned and leaned forward, his slender fingers resting on the keys.

His voice came from her ear, and the warm air swept over her ear:

"Remember to tell me next time...everything about you is important."

……

Mrs. Herras said yesterday that with the strong learning ability of Sherlock Holmes, if Sherlock wants to be a good boyfriend, then he will definitely become the best boyfriend in the world.

...So, Sherlock is trying to make up for the rhythm of a dozen romance novels?

It's hard to imagine.

Ludwig laughed dryly: "Okay, okay, next time I have a chance, I must remember to tell you... Where is do-re-mi's do?"

Sherlock glanced at her indifferently, stretched out his hand, put it around her shoulders, and covered hers with his slender fingers.

"You really don't know?...Here, just follow me and play."

His fingers led hers, playing slowly on the piano like flowing water.

As soon as he played three notes, Ludwig knew that he was playing Tchaikovsky's "Old France".

What Sherlock played was a simplified version, which was probably simplified by himself. After simplifying the originally simple piece, it was almost as difficult as a kindergarten level.

...It's true that she can't play the piano. She knew this song when she was five years old.

Sherlock's curly black curls brushed against her cheek, soft and cool, and they'd used the same shampoo, so his hair smelled the same as hers.

The moonlight flowed shallowly in the scale-like ripples of the river surface, flowing in the magic power under his fingers, creating a delicate atmosphere.

Unexpectedly, he played the piano very well, at least not like a novice at all.

Although compared to her previous level, it is definitely not at the same level of strength.

Sherlock held her in his arms easily, and the familiar light breath surrounded her. The heat from his chest permeated through her shirt, flowing through her whole body like a warm current.

This simple piece of music doesn't show any skill at all, it's just a low and melancholy tone, the same set of melodies, repeated, repeated.

With nostalgia and the sound of the waves of the Thames, it hit her heart one sound at a time.

When Sherlock led her to play the second time, she looked at those black and white piano keys, and her eyes suddenly felt a little sore.

... how many years, how many years.

For so many years, she only dared to secretly practice on the table, but did not dare to play a complete piece of music.

For many years, she traveled to so many places, but she didn't go home to take a look.

Just like the last rising tail, the sound of landing will never be heard.

The second time just started, Ludwig stopped, and pulled his hand out from between Sherlock's slender fingers.

She shrugged:

"It's so boring for you to play with me, you can play by yourself."

Sherlock slowly withdrew his arm.

She stood up and pressed Sherlock on the piano chair:

"Come and play, I'll listen... Ah, sorry, they seem to be making small clay sculptures, I'll take a look."

She smiled at him, without any trace of nostalgia, turned around and got into the colorful crowd.

She can't play it anymore, if she plays it any longer, she will lose her composure.

The crowd is indeed colorful because everyone has paint on them.

On the ground floor of the small wooden shed, a group of very artistic young people are making small keychain pendants with mud and painting them with dry colors.

Ludwig sat down at the table and said to a handsome black guy next to him who was covered in paint all over his body:

"Can I have one?"

The little handsome guy showed her snow-white teeth:

"Of course, but it's a public welfare activity, and it's a bit expensive. Ten pounds a piece can provide a week's water supply to a Tunisian child...Of course, if you are willing to smile at me, I can give you a [-]% discount."

Five pounds for a smile?

Can she laugh a hundred times?a thousand times?Until laughing off her college fees?

Just as Ludwig was about to smile, a slender hand reached out holding a fifty pound note.

Sherlock said blankly:

"We'll buy two. For the rest of the money, please change to another place."

The handsome black guy looked straight at Sherlock, his eyes flickering:

"It's okay to change seats, but can I sit next to you?"

Ludwig: "..."

Therefore, the miraculous skill of grabbing a bus seat came back out of the rivers and lakes. Mr. Holmes once again succeeded in taking a seat next to Miss Ludwig through the local tyrant skill and the handsome man skill (fog).

Ludwig picks out an animal keychain:

"what is this?"

Sherlock glanced at it: "Chinese panda."

"...I thought it was a rabbit, why do pandas have such long ears? Forget it, pandas are pandas.

The little panda is so naive, Ludwig picked up a paintbrush and started to color the panda.

Sherlock clasped his hands on the wooden tabletop, and watched Ludwig smear paint on the poor panda's face in a random way.

If someone had told him three months ago that he would waste time on such frivolous things, he would have ridiculed that person's view of time mercilessly.

but now……

The waves of the Thames came one after another, slapping on the embankment, and the beautiful girl in a purple dress sat back at the piano and played the tune they had just played.

The old, old, France that fell into the Russian score, over and over again, the similar melody repeats itself, echoing the sound of the waves.

"Actually, the best expression of this song is not solo."

Ludwig focused on coloring the little panda, and after a while he casually said, "Really."

Of course she knew.

"Old France" is a concerto for piano and violin.

Everyone has a heart for comparison. To be honest, she also wants to have a concerto competition with Sherlock, challenge Sherlock's violin, and see who can keep up with whose tune... She can't compare in IQ, but music is her passion. area, you will never lose.

Maybe in two days, pretend to sign up for a piano class?

Forget it, it’s too expensive, and reading literature is already the rhythm of selling one’s body.

So, she just said: "I heard that Mycroft can play the piano, if you have the opportunity to play with him, I guarantee you will win."

With Mycroft ?

Sherlock's expression suddenly seemed to have eaten overnight bread.

He turned his head and looked not far away from them. There were young boys and girls wearing the same style of shirts, and they finished drawing the small key pendant together, talking and laughing.

The girl smiled and hung the one she drew on the boy's key chain, and they kissed together on the bench under the oak tree.

……

He turned his head back, his critical eyes scanned the clay sculptures made by volunteer artists on the table, and finally got up to dig a piece of mud by himself.

If someone had told him three months ago that he would sit on a crowded street and do such mindless things...

Sherlock picked up a penknife, glanced at his girlfriend's work, and said coolly:

"Is your panda poisoned?"

Ludwig puts a lot of green on the panda's face, and a lot of red on the panda's body.

"Black and white is too boring, it is a panda that pursues individuality and has dyed hair."

Sherlock looked at her color scheme and didn't say anything. The penknife twirled a few rounds slightly, and none of the cuts was superfluous. A clump of small Rosaceae flowers in his hand had gradually taken shape.

If Ludwig takes a closer look, he will find that the carving technique of this rose bush is exactly the same as the carving technique on her earrings. The petals are curled and the branches are bent, which is very three-dimensional.

Finally, she painted black on the eyes and ears of the panda, added setting water to the paint, and looked at her work with satisfaction: "It's finished."

Sherlock didn't even look at it, but said mockingly:

"Congratulations on creating a unique species in the world...what's it called?"

Ludwig's hands are all colorful oil paint: "Ludwig."

Sherlock: "..."

He looked at the flowers in his hands delicately, and skillfully added the last touch of instant paint:

"Symmetrically... shall I call it Sherlock? Or Sherlock Holmes?"

Ludwig took the rose pendant in his hand and compared it with his own...

It turns out that this is the gap between the works of the Palace of Versailles and the street stalls...

She silently wanted to put away her poisoned little panda, but was hooked away by a slender finger.

Sherlock hooked the pendant on his index finger, and the little panda Ludwig dangled in mid-air:

"If your eyesight is below 0.3, your work can still be read...Of course, if it is the poet Homer, it will be praised as beautiful."

Ludwig: "..."

The poet Homer was... blind.

Completely blind.

But I would like to praise Sherlock for knowing the poet Homer. Mr. Holmes's literary atmosphere has really increased recently.

Before Ludwig could get the small pendant back, Sherlock reluctantly put her pendant... into the coat pocket.

……what's going on?

When did she say she was going to give this to him?

Ludwig watched in a daze as he put his hands in his pockets after taking away his little panda, stood up, and looked at other people's works with great interest.

Although ten minutes ago, he still dismissed these people's aesthetics.

Ludwig looked at the dazzled rose in his hand again, and finally took back the words that came to his lips.

... Take it away if you like, the Palace of Versailles offered to exchange works with street vendors... It must not be the street vendors who are losing money, right?

They walked all the way back along the Thames, and Sherlock, uncharacteristically, did not express any objection to the time-wasting way of moving by walking.

Ludwig said, "Let's take a taxi."

Sherlock: "Why?"

Ludwig said angrily:

"Of course I rushed back to prepare for the exam... Who changed my application to Cambridge University? Now I can only read books day and night, and today I have wasted a day."

Sherlock paused:

"I'm very sorry, but I still don't think there is anything wrong with changing your application."

"So I didn't hear any apologies...wait."

When Ludwig saw the 24-hour convenience store across the street, his eyes lit up:

"I'm going to the convenience store, you wait for me here."

"There's no need, there's everything at home."

"I suddenly want to eat frog candies... Does anyone in your family eat frog candies?"

"Then I don't need to wait for you here."

Sherlock looked at Ludwig inscrutablely:

"Can we go together...or is there something bad going on in your little head?"