【Detective Sherlock】Im Sherlock

"Sherlock Holmes was lying among the bums. If it wasn't for the pain in my punching fist downstairs, I couldn't believe it was real. I dragged him out by his clothes. I dragged him to test him. The cursing went on and on. Molly slapped him and I almost applauded. But Holmes is such a bastard that he said disapprovingly 'John, calm down!'. I can't be calm, but I can't blame him for anything. I know he's bored, he'll do anything for his brain to function. His morals and sense of responsibility - I believe he has - he made the choice to hurt himself, not like those who call him a freak Just like a human being, to do things that hurt others. Sherlock Holmes, he doesn’t want to admit it anymore, he is a good person in my heart, a good person who makes people hate but also feels distressed.”

John sat upright in front of his notebook with firm eyes.When he said this, he lost control, and the corners of his eyes were red.He took a deep breath and rubbed his face vigorously.

The sun shining through the window fell in front of him, and the dust was suspended in it.

In the shadows, Sherlock stood at the door.He didn't make a sound, he looked at John quietly.

After someone's breath, John raised his head. He saw Sherlock, jumped up from the armchair, and said helplessly, "Sherlock, would you like a cup of tea?"

Sherlock moved, as if he had just arrived, he quickly took off his coat and hung it behind the door: "Why not?" He naturally rolled up his sleeves, revealing [-] pieces of nicotine patches.

John was still standing there blankly, he made a smirk and joked: "Tea?"

Only then did John come to his senses, his eyes flew left and right, he scanned the half-recorded video on the laptop screen and closed it in a panic, his ears were red and he fled into the kitchen, avoiding Sherlock's following eyes.

"When did you come back?"

"soon."

"Uh... is there any case?"

"John."

"Ok?"

"London is so boring, how about we go to China and see if the criminals there are dedicated?"

"Sherlock..."

John handed the brewed tea to Sherlock, who lazily leaned on the sofa and took it: "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

Sherlock's hand trembled, and the cup almost fell to the ground.John quickly held Sherlock's hand to stabilize the teacup, and he looked at Sherlock strangely: "Sherlock?"

"Why did you move back in with me?" Sherlock asked, staring at John's withdrawn hand.

John bowed his head and took a sip of tea, then shrugged: "Because I'm a widower, you are my best friend, do you have any questions?" He answered frankly.

"You still love Mary?"

"Huh? Is there a new case?"

"No."

"Well, London is peaceful." John wondered, "Then why do you ask this? Love has never been your domain, has it?"

"Once." Sherlock put down his teacup, "Since you chose me as your bestman, things have changed." He searched carefully for the change in John's expression, but he was disappointed.

John showed his usual warm smile: "Your speech that day made me almost kiss you. I still can't believe that Sherlock can be so emotional. Mary..." John sighed, "I am her husband , she is my wife and I love her."

"How's your stream going, John?" Sherlock raised his voice.

John didn't know why Sherlock suddenly changed the subject. He watched Sherlock lower his head and drink his tea naturally, as if the conversation should be like this.But Sherlock has always had his way, and he doesn't want to talk about Mary now.

John secretly hid the notebook behind his back and replied, "Well, I was practicing."

"Practice? Oh, my John, you don't know how to talk to yourself in your notebook, do you? Don't try to argue, your flushed face has already stated the facts, and the notebook you hide behind has the video you just recorded." Xia Locke spoke faster and faster, "John, you are not good at hiding things, you will only hide your gun under the red book in the second drawer of the bedside table on the left (this statement is purely fictional, any similarity is purely coincidence). I'm not interested in those silly videos you made, I don't want to watch."

After listening to Sherlock's words, John pursed his lips unconsciously. He opened the notebook and put it on his lap: "Ok, ok! I didn't let you see it, I'm going to delete it."

John tapped delete, raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips at Sherlock.

"Well, I've been sitting at home all day and I need to get some air. Sherlock, do you want to come?"

Sherlock lay down on the sofa and turned his back to John: "I'm not interested."

"Then I'm leaving." John put on his coat, looked back at Sherlock again, and then closed the door and walked down the stairs.

Hearing the sound of the door closing downstairs, Sherlock immediately sat up and opened John's notebook.He had just restored John's deleted video when there was a sudden sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs.

Sherlock raised his head, and John opened the door the next second and smiled at him: "Sherlock, is that my notebook on your lap?"

Sherlock: "Yes."

"So, can I ask what you're doing with it?" John approached Sherlock.

"John, I think it's you on my lap." With a smirk, Sherlock turned the notebook, and John heard his own voice: "Holmes is lying among the bums..."

"Damnit! I deleted it just now!" John grabbed the notebook and quickly turned off the video.

The living room suddenly became quiet, only the two men looked at each other pleasingly.

John was embarrassed holding his notebook. The content of his practice was not for the public to see. He just picked out a case at random and tried to organize the speech.John licked his lips: "Sherlock..."

"John, I don't care about the public, I don't care about other people. If you want to tell my history of drug addiction on the air, or talk about the process of me shooting and killing people, if you want, I can even provide you with details. No no, you Don't rush to explain. Explain to me. I know you don't want to. After those three years, your loyalty is unquestionable, and my reputation is higher than your life. I'm just using a metaphor, and what I want you to know is— - For you, I have complete trust, for me, you can ask for anything, I am your bestman."

After Sherlock finished speaking every word, John stood excitedly in front of Sherlock and clenched his fists.

"Are you going to kiss me?" Sherlock said, looking up.

John bent down and hugged Sherlock tightly: "Almost."

Sherlock sighed and leaned closer to John's hair, stroking John's exposed neck with his chin, and then pushed John away to let him sit down: "You never asked me why I took drugs."

John looked at his notebook: "I didn't ask because you said so. You're so boring."

Sherlock was giggling at the expression on John's face: "Well, I said, when you were a bachelor John. Then you got married and moved out of Baker Street, and I—" John nodded, and Sherlock After a pause, he continued, "The whole of London is like a stagnant water without any ripples. I feel hopeless."

John sternly warned: "This is no reason to hurt yourself, never, never touch drugs again."

Sherlock responded vaguely, and went to get the violin. After adjusting it a few times, he put the violin on his shoulders and put it in a good posture: "I promised you." He said, "You can always look at me, I don't will lose faith in you."

A peaceful tune flowed from under Sherlock's fingertips, John put away his notebook, and walked down the stairs again to the street.

Sherlock's violin, standing in the window on the second floor, turned and became heavy.

After John and Hudson asked to close the door, he stood by the street and waved to Sherlock, smiling and walking towards the Chinese restaurant.While Sherlock continued to play, his smile rose and disappeared, and his eyes followed John's gradually receding back.The melody sung by the violin is like the waves of the sea, and under the gentle appearance is a turbulent undercurrent.

The author has something to say: I... Did I write abuse?

The emotional impact of losing my phone?

no!Adjust and adjust, I will be miserable, they will be fine!