[Comprehensive British and American] Those years when I opened a dessert shop on Baker Street

Wensti lay in Sherlock's arms, and Sherlock carried her back to her room.

Sherlock put her on the bed, and Winsty fell on the bed she hadn't seen for several months. The afterglow of the setting sun outside spilled half on her bed, and she rolled a few times in the setting sun.

"Close the door, sir."

Pugsri and grandmother are immersed in the "deliciousness" of the cake and will not come up. Morticia and Gomez are now in the stage of full love, and they will not come to her room, but the thing He is a gossip guy, and the main reason to close the door is to prevent it.

Sherlock walked over to close the open door, and he saw a hand poking in curiously outside the door, he stared at it for a while, the thing had no eyes, but Sherlock could feel its sight, it looked at Xia After a while, Locke climbed up to the eaves of the door and looked inside. Winsty was lying on the bed pretending to be unconscious, her eyes were tightly closed, and the afterglow of the sun caressed her face.

The thing crawled over to help her cover the quilt, then climbed up Sherlock's trousers and onto his shoulder, patted, as if to say: "Take good care of my master."

Then it put its little finger and index finger behind its back, and walked out with its middle finger and ring finger as its legs.

Sherlock watched the thing leave, its back revealed an inexplicable vicissitudes, and he closed the door.

"Sir, you should thank me." Winsty sat up from the bed and leaned against the head of the bed with the pillow.

Sherlock knew what she was referring to, and if she hadn't pretended to be dizzy, he would have eaten a large piece of grasshopper cake.

He smiled slightly.

Winsty tilted her head and looked at him: "Be polite."

"Politeness is the most cumbersome thing in this world." Sherlock looked for a chair in Winsty's room, but there was no chair in her room, and the only thing she could sit on was her bed.

Wensti noticed his gaze, her whole body was "big", trying to occupy the whole bed.

Winsty: "People who are impolite will not be given a seat."

"Thank u......"

Satisfied, Wensty restrained her posture, made room for Sherlock, and patted the bed: "Sit down."

Sherlock sat down beside her, and continued, "The bed."

Thanks for the bed.

Wensty was swayed by him. She glanced at Sherlock and pursed her lips tightly. The latter laughed softly, and the laugh grew louder.

He was inexplicably happy to see Winsty angry.

"Are you smiling?"

Maybe it was because Sherlock's laugh was too contagious or because of something else, she couldn't help but laughed, she knew that Sherlock was laughing because of her, she laughed and was annoyed: "Don't laugh, you It has become a wrinkle monster."

Sherlock's face was too long, and when he smiled, the muscles on his face were stretched, like a long steamed bun full of folds.

Winsty: "..."

"You still laugh, don't you?" Wensty's two beautiful eyes were filled with the afterglow of the setting sun, like a sparkling obsidian, "If you still laugh, I'll make you laugh more happily."

Wensty is now like a kitten with a blown fur, and Sherlock finds it even more novel and interesting.

The kitten's paws rushed towards his waist and the creaking nest.

The trick of "tickling" was obviously very powerful, but Sherlock stopped laughing instead.

"Aren't you ticklish?"

"correct."

Wensti felt very frustrated. Now it was like two tribes were at war. Her side had released a killer weapon and threw a huge weapon over, but the other side didn't take it seriously at all.

Sherlock looked at her: "So, you are very ticklish."

In his cognition, if a person is very afraid of something, he must also think that others are also afraid of the same thing.

"Not afraid!"

Wensti said categorically, but she was very guilty in her heart, she was so ticklish to death.

Sherlock obviously didn't believe her words, so Wensty sat a little further away from him, emphasized it again, and said emphatically, "I'm not ticklish!"

"Oh."

He stretched out his claws like a jackal.

"Sherlock," perhaps it was a harbinger of danger, as Winsty could already feel the itch, "don't come over—I'm not ticklish!"

"Then what are you hiding from?"

At this time, Luke listened to the master's order and came up to see if Wensty's health was getting better. If she didn't get better, his grandmother planned to make a bowl of medicinal soup for her, adding various herbs to make a bowl of witches like in cartoons. The medicinal soup, poured down, may not work for other diseases, but it will definitely work for syncope.

If you drink it in one gulp, no matter how dizzy you are, you will be awakened by the bitter taste in your mouth.

If Winsty wakes up, call her down to eat the cake, and she and Sherlock have saved a few pieces of such a delicious cake!

Luke walked to the door, and before he had time to knock on the door, he heard laughter inside, and his movements stopped, as if he understood something, and left without knocking.

Grandmother asked curiously, "Has Winsty woke up?"

Luke nodded.

"If you wake up, why don't you call them down to eat cake?"

Luke shook his head.

"inconvenient?"

Luke nodded.

Pugsri and grandmother looked at each other and nodded. They had a very tacit understanding and never sent anyone up to see it again.

At this time, Wensty was like a lamb that fell into the wolf's mouth. She was forced to the corner of the bed by Sherlock: "Sir, I am a girl."

"so what"

"Men and women don't give and receive."

"When you did this useless and ignorant behavior to me just now, you didn't think of 'men and women can't kiss each other'."

Wensty was at a loss for words, she just shot herself in the foot with a rock.

"Sherlock, I... you... if you tickle me, I'll never talk to you again."

In a flash of excitement, she directly said this non-threatening sentence. Now kindergarten children don't quarrel like this, but Sherlock stopped.

His hands were clearly already close to her waist, but he retracted them.

Sherlock's face was very close to Winsty, and she could completely see the panic in her eyes. She was really ticklish, and her whole body was curled up into a ball, with her arms wrapped around her, obviously for defense. State, intended to prevent Sherlock from finding a place to attack.

Wensty thought that she couldn't escape being tickled, and in the end she simply closed her eyes like a brave man would die, but after a while, the feeling that frightened her didn't appear.

She opened her eyes and fell into a sea.

She had always thought that the sea was light blue, as if washed by the wind, but her original cognition was overturned at this moment.

There is not only blue in that sea, but also gray and green intertwined.

The last afterglow of the setting sun is the most enthusiastic, being sucked into the sea, intertwined with other colors, calm, wise and profound.

In the reflection of the sea, Winsty saw her own face, which blended with all kinds of emotions.

"Sir," she blinked, "I always thought your eyes were light blue."

Winsty confirmed again carefully: "So it's not."

Sherlock saw Winsty searching for the color in his eyes like he was searching for treasure.

"I have heterochromia," he told her.

"what is that?"

"An abnormal symptom of the body. The iris of the two eyes is of different colors. The color of the iris is determined by the distribution of pigmentation in the iris tissue. The distribution of pigments will affect the color of the eyes. My eyes show different colors depending on the light. "

"understood."

Wensty stretched out his hand to his face, blocking the sunlight from entering his eyes, and his eyes really changed slightly.

amazing.

Winsty was all smiles, the window of her room was wide open, and the last rays of the sun were fading away.

"Are you hungry?" Winsty asked Sherlock.

"well enough."

Sherlock is a person with a low appetite for food. In addition, he often deliberately skips meals in order to keep his mind sharp. Hunger is already normal, and he doesn't care about it after a long time.

"I'm a little hungry." Winsty looked at her stomach, pouted, "Don't worry, I'll go down and make cakes later."

"it is good."

The sun is no longer attached to the mortal world, and the last step is very fast, and Sherlock and Winsty happened to see the whole process of it disappearing from the mountains and forests.

"Sir," Winsty said without thinking, "do you know that there is a saying..."

"what do you know?"

"He who is not ticklish has a hard heart."

Sherlock: "..."

The sun went down and the long night came at last.

When Winsty felt that no one would go to the kitchen again, she took Sherlock out and saw the small cake left by her grandmother in the kitchen, and a note was pasted underneath:

ha!I knew you would come to steal food, so I caught you!

The crooked primary school student's handwriting can be seen at a glance as the handwriting of my grandmother. She is the most immature handwriting in the whole family, and even Pugsli's handwriting looks more mature than hers.

"It seems that these cakes will have to be dealt with later."

Winsty simply made two steamed cakes and fed herself and Sherlock.

"Sir, in our house you can only eat what I give you. This is advice."

What other people gave may add some strange species.

When Wensti said this, it seemed as if she was declaring her right of ownership. With the little girl and the whole kitchen, Sherlock's heart was suddenly filled with a wonderful feeling.

"it is good."

Sherlock replied, with a solemn expression as if saying an oath.

It's time to deal with grandma's cake, it's impossible to eat it, throw it in the trash can and grandma will be sad to see it.

Winsty walked out of the house carrying the tray.

"Are you going to throw it into the forest?" Sherlock followed her with his hands in his pockets.

"I will not destroy the ecological environment."

Protecting the forest is everyone's responsibility.

I saw Winsty walking to the gate.

"Door, do me a favor!"

She threw the cake towards the iron gate, and in the next second, the middle of the iron gate opened, forming a mouth full of sharp teeth, which ate up the few small cakes in two or three strokes.

Winsty took out her handkerchief and wiped off the cake residue on that "mouth".

"Thank you, Dole."

When she turned around, Sherlock behind her seemed to be petrified.

She poked him on the shoulder.

"are you OK?"

Sherlock looked past her and went straight to the iron door, and then he strode over to the iron door. The place that was opened just now was tightly fitted, and he stretched out his hand to touch it.

"Don't touch it."

Winsty chanted a fixation spell, fixed Duo'er who was about to bite Sherlock, held Sherlock's hand, and pulled it back from Duo'er's "mouth".

"Duo'er doesn't like others touching its mouth."

Winsty lifted the spell.

Night waves rolled in Sherlock's eyes.

"I said that our family will be weird, with palms as pets, iron gates with mouths, the castle you see roars, this tree is called Gary, and it also has its own thoughts..."

Gary's branch reached the ground, and Wensty took Sherlock by the hand. The two of them were dragged by Gary to the tree trunk. Looking down, they could see the lights of Wanjia down the mountain.

"It's been like this since I came to this family. I can't explain why, and maybe my parents can't either. These things are very strange to others. It is because of these strange things that people in our family seem to be heterogeneous."

Winsty had forgotten that she was holding Sherlock's hand.

"So our family rarely has guests other than relatives. You may be the first."

The lights under the mountain are brilliant, like a beautiful river of lights.

"It's not that our family is not hospitable. My family loves to make friends, but others cannot accept us. In the eyes of others, the Adams family is equivalent to demons."

Wensty's voice blew into Sherlock's ears with the night wind.

The evening wind blows her hair back, making one think of a statue about to be poured into the ocean.

"But I think you are different." Winsty looked at Sherlock beside him, his obsidian eyes were full of confidence.

She was confident he understood the oddity.

She told him about the "weirdness" in her family without reservation.

They are all people who are considered different, but at the same time, they are the most tolerant people in the world.

But it's different, so what?

Sherlock remained silent, his eyes were light gray blue, like fireflies in the deep sea.

作者有话要说：感谢在2020-03-2420:18:03~2020-03-2521:11:23期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angel of irrigation nutrient solution: 4 bottles of mycroft big cat;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!