[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

Ludwig did not return to Baker Street until nearly eleven o'clock in the evening.

The graduation exam of the British a-level course is almost the only way for a French high school graduate like her to enter a top-ranked university in the UK.

She has been in a ghostly state since six o'clock this morning.

Wake up like a ghost, wash up like a ghost, drink coffee like a ghost.

Sleepiness is like a snowball.

I can survive without sleep, but once I start to sleep, I can't stop the snowball from getting bigger and bigger.

And when she finished the exam with all her strength, at the moment when she handed in the last exam, her mind was suddenly blessed, and her drowsy brain miraculously sobered up.

...It's too late to wake up, okay?

Is the plot gentleman joking?What about Goldfinger?

At 221b Baker Street, the dark night permeated the room, as if even the fog outside the window had come in.

The house was pitch black.

Ludwig took off his shoes, reached for the light switch with one hand, and suddenly heard a familiar but indifferent greeting from the sofa:

"You're five hours late—you were supposed to be back at six o'clock in the afternoon."

Ludwig was startled, and turned on the light with a "snap".

Sherlock was sitting on the sofa, looking intently at a plate of colorful things.

That's—toy chess?

"You just came back from France?"

Ludwig took off his lambskin sandals:

"Have you found anything, sir?"

Sherlock paused, and slowly moved a chess piece two spaces:

"...I didn't go to France."

"Is it?"

Ludwig walked to the bar and poured himself a glass of water:

"I didn't see you this morning. I thought you went to France."

Sherlock was silent for longer this time.

Then he said in a tone that could definitely be called calm:

"Sorry, but I'm afraid it's not my problem - because I've been sitting here since morning."

Ludwig froze halfway while drinking water.

"But it's obvious that you completely ignored me."

Sherlock kept his eyes on the chess.

From the beginning to the end, he didn't even give her half a look:

"You only made your own coffee, you only made your own breakfast, you walked past me with your bag on your back, forgetting the normal world human manners - you didn't even say hello."

...with a calm tone?No, all this is an illusion.

The less turbulent the water is under the lake, the more turbulent undercurrents can be found.

She seemed to have seen her own death flag stand up - the Sensen sitting in front of her was not Sherlock, but the god of death, William.

How can Mr. Holmes be broken?Wait online!

Ludwig put down his water glass, walked up to Mr. Holmes bravely, and patted him on the shoulder:

"Sir, that only shows that you are becoming more and more... well, low-key."

She made a serious cheering gesture to Sherlock:

"Low-key is a man's virtue, please keep it up."

Sherlock: "..."

After smoothing Ludwig's hair, he immediately rubbed the soles of his feet with oil and wanted to escape.

But if things in the world are always so smooth, there will be no so-called stories at all.

As she turned, Sherlock grabbed her wrist.

The direction was accurately calculated, and the strength was just right—Miss Ludwig was easily pushed down on the sofa by Mr. Holmes.

She didn't even see what he did, and she was... thrown down?

Hey, Mr. Drama, this posture is wrong, okay!She is not the one below!

Sherlock hugged her shoulders and fell down on the sofa with her.

His tone was a little depressed:

"...you didn't even reply to my texts."

"..."

Short message?

Ludwig smoothed his back under his white shirt reassuringly:

"I have to turn off my phone for the exam, don't I?"

Sherlock buried his face in the hollow of her shoulder, and said lightly:

"You didn't return after the exam."

Ludwig: "Huh? Ah, I forgot to turn it on..."

His cool breath blew on her neck, and his cold fingertips stroked her chin—this was a meaningless, Sherlockian stroke, more like a muscle than a couple's movement Texture anatomy.

He said softly:

"You didn't make me breakfast."

"……I know."

"You didn't make me coffee."

"……I know."

"You didn't see me."

"I know, I'm sorry for that, sir...but could you get up first?"

Ludwig pushed his curly black hair aside so that they wouldn't rub against her cheek, itching.

"I'm not used to you being so clingy all of a sudden..."

But Sherlock ignored her, he just hugged her shoulders even tighter, his calm tone was completely inconsistent with his current actions:

"You didn't reply to my text message."

Ludwig: "..."

So this is the cadence at which these questions start over?

Sure enough, Sherlock's next sentence verified this terrible conjecture.

"You didn't make me breakfast."

Ludwig: "..."

She covered her forehead - Sherlock really planned to do it to her again?This unscientific!Was he possessed by a repeater?

He held her motionless:

"You didn't make me coffee..."

Before he could finish the sound, Ludwig suddenly reached out to hold his face, kissed him, and completely blocked his mouth.

——Very well, the repeater is not working.

Always lacking a little warmth, Sherlock's lips.

His lips are thin, and his language is like a sharp knife, cutting through greed, piercing into the truth, and letting flowers grow on lies and blood.

—Sherlock Holmes.

Her Wikipedia-esque boyfriend.

……

Ludwig's kiss is just a superficial touch, and it ends when he touches it.

It was like a breeze blowing across the surface of a lake, swaying gently, and then leaving in an instant.

"It's not compensation, sir."

Her slender fingers touched the corner of Sherlock's lips, and said softly:

"It's a ceremony."

Sherlock stared into her dark eyes for a long time, but said nothing.

——This was the first time she kissed him on her own initiative.

Even though, this kiss is like the petals blown off the tree by the wind, a small piece falls into the pond, floating lightly on the surface of the water, unable to sink.

"Why do not you speak?"

Ludwig brushed his eyelashes with his fingers:

"Your eyes are a bit scary... Did I do something wrong?"

Sherlock still looked at her closely, without saying a word.

In his gray eyes, there are deep and shallow twilight, just like the fog that never disperses in London, rising from the lake in winter.

... I beg Mr. Holmes not to play deep at this time, she is a little nervous.

Ludwig touched his nose:

"Okay, it's okay if I don't take the initiative in the future...don't look at me like that, I have a sense of sight of a perverted female teacher humiliating her pure white and innocent male student."

Sherlock: "..."

He finally spoke, but his eyes were still so focused that it made her hairy.

"You did nothing wrong." He said slowly, "You just said that this is not compensation, but a ritual?"

——What kind of ritual is the first proactive kiss in the world of normal people?

"Exorcism?"

Ludwig touched his nose again:

"The demons surrendered? The evil spirits receded?... Sorry, I was joking, you were too weird just now, I just want you to shut up."

Sherlock: "..."

Ludwig took Sherlock's hand away and got up from the sofa:

"Jean...I'm physically and mentally exhausted right now, and desperately need a hot bath and dreamless sleep."

Still the same sentence, if at this time, she can get up smoothly if she wants to, then there will be no so-called stories in the world.

After a short moment of astonishment, Ludwig stretched out his hand and shook it in front of Sherlock's eyes.

"If you have a facial disorder, you need to see a doctor...don't be scary here, sir."

"Because you refused to go to France with me, and refused your reasonable obligations in the contract, which indirectly caused me to be hungry all day."

There was a touch of dissatisfaction in Sherlock's tone:

"But only... the exorcism ceremony?"

"..."

This is the rhythm of... asking for compensation?

Something must have happened today that she didn't know about, because Sherlock has been in a... state of being hit on the head since she returned to Baker Street.

Ludwig paused:

"If my memory serves me, I have just kissed you, sir."

She sat obliquely on Sherlock's slender legs, as naturally as sitting on a sofa, and Sherlock had already sat up, with his arms wrapped around her waist habitually.

"It's indeed been kissed... the time spent is no more than 1.5s, the area of ​​the contact point is no more than ^2, and the average pressure is no more than 25 kilopascals."

He said blankly:

"Compared to your recent slack at work and your disregard for our relationship, this is insignificant... Oh, Vichy, you are my personal assistant, but you have been passively sabotaging your work since you were reviewing for the exam."

"..."

He still remembered that she was studying for the exam?

And personal assistants... Which personal assistant has he ever seen with no salary, no vacation, no benefits, no day and night?

……

Ludwig pressed his temple:

"So what do you want?"

Sherlock immediately said: "I've roughly figured out the case, we're going to France right now, and we can come back before dawn."

"..."

Ludwig looked at the wall clock, it was almost twelve o'clock in the evening.

She leaned over and kissed his forehead:

"Baby, you are so cute."

Sherlock: "..."

"I'm very tired today, sir. If you really want to go, why can't you go by yourself? You used to solve cases by yourself."

Sherlock glanced at her:

"That was before I had an assistant. There is no reason why I have to carry Mr. Skeleton to the crime scene now."

Ludwig turned around and waved to Sherlock:

"Then you can take my second personality with you. Anyway, you think I'm delusional. I hope you can get along well...bye."

Sherlock: "..."

A text message came, and Sherlock took out his phone.

Text message content: "It seems that your strategy of showing weakness is not working. mh"

Sherlock quickly replied:

"Obviously, your guilt strategy isn't working either. sh"

"But you got at least one kiss. You should have seen your face, Sherlock, it was an eight-magnitude earthquake—like she had never offered to kiss you before. mh"

Sherlock: "..."

Mycroft Truth Emperor.

This fact is too cruel.

He looked up from the phone and saw that Ludwig had taken off his coat and hung it beside his coat, and was going to wash up.

Her bathroom hadn't been fixed, of course it hadn't been fixed - why should it be?

But just 2 minutes after she walked into his bathroom, the door was suddenly opened again.

Ludwig stood at the door of his room, with half of his hair dripping wet, with an expression of disbelief, as if he had been greatly frightened by his current behavior.

"I must be crazy... crazy to do this."

Ludwig covered his forehead and murmured:

"Come on, sir, and I'll go with you to France—now."