[Shen Xia] When Watson has Twitter

The Sherlock I found in the small restaurant, the lighting engineer inside is warm with turmeric, with a faint red, which makes people feel very warm.And in the innermost place, in an armchair near the fireplace, I saw black shaggy hair.

Without a doubt, it was Sherlock.

I went to sit on the chair next to him and looked up at him.Sherlock stuffed himself into the armchair, clasped his hands and held his chin, his eyes fixed on the jumping fire, motionless.I can't see his emotions, I can only see that the resistance in his whole body is stronger than ever.

"I used to trust my senses, but what happened just now made me suspicious." He took a sip from his glass, then leaned back in his chair, "I saw a dog, a hound, with tusks. Teeth, huge in stature, and with glowing eyes."

This kind of description reminds me of monsters in science fiction movies. They are usually huge, ferocious and dull-headed, but if this kind of thing appears in real life, it may not be good.

I tried to reassure him: "You may just be tired, Sherlock, shall we go upstairs to rest?"

"Look, I'm trembling. Sherlock Holmes is frightened."

I saw his trembling fingertips holding the wine glass. The yellow-brown liquid in the transparent wine glass swayed in it, sporadically spilled out, and fell on the floor to form shallow marks.

His face was very pale, and even the flames in the fireplace did not make his face much better.

I tried my best to make him happy, but he didn't do anything other than pointing at a mother and son and chanting a bunch of his reasoning and deduction to cover up his panic now.

In fact, Sherlock muttered a bunch of things, and I didn't catch them, or I just stared at his mouth and couldn't see anywhere else.He has become much better than before, and such a fast speaking speed, and the speed of thinking that is already flying, makes me feel terrified.Yes, he was proving, proving to me, that Sherlock wasn't frightened and didn't need reassurance.

"Listen," I put my hand on the back of his hand, which was so cool, "you don't need to prove anything to me, and I don't need you to prove anything. You just need to tell me that you now Just think about something."

He stared fixedly at the back of my hand, then turned his palm over and held my hand in his palm.

I'm a little embarrassed, because after all, I'm in public now, and I've just turned myself off - I just look at Sherlock every day and think I'm gay - and I'm still a little uncomfortable with such blatant intimacy.

So I struggled gently, Sherlock was obviously a little surprised, then let go of me, and turned to grab the wine glass on the small table with his hand.

"I'm fine now, thinking clearly and clearly, so leave me alone for a while."

I know he's angry, but I'm afraid he's angry not because of fear, but because I've just avoided his response.It made me nervous because I didn't want to teach him that his first lesson in love was avoidance.So, I walked up to him and gave him a kiss: "It's okay, I just care about you, as a friend."

He leaned back slightly, looked me in the eye, and said, "I have nothing, friend."

Then, I left, yes, I didn't give him a punch or anything, but I left the small restaurant calmly, not looking at the ambiguous eyes cast by the clerk named Billy.

Should you be angry?Maybe not, I know who Sherlock is, and it's only natural that he can be irrational when his emotions consume his reason.But now that my head has been burned, I just want to throw Sherlock into the fireplace.So forgive me for not being able to understand him now, you know, it's hard.

Especially after I walked a long way and only saw a car shock scene, I couldn't be happier anymore.

At this time, the phone rang, and I took it out to check, it was Sherlock.

'Help me investigate this man. -SH'

I wanted to turn him down, but the black gloves on my hands made my fingers pause when I pressed the keyboard. These gloves belonged to Sherlock. When he came back from the hillside, he was afraid that I would be cold, so he pulled out a glove for me to wear. up, and our bare|bare hands curled up in Sherlock's coat pockets together.

This memory is very warm, but it is not enough to offset the negative effect of the sentence just now: 'WHY'

Then, Sherlock sent me a picture.It was a woman, very pretty, with nice hair.Sherlock didn't say a word, and I certainly didn't think he was going to seduce me with this beautiful woman.

He's just used to it. I'm used to obeying him in everything. I'll go wherever he asks me to go, and I'll do whatever he asks me to do.It's a damn habit, but what can be done about it?There is only one Sherlock Holmes in this world. I am used to agreeing to all his requests, and I can't change this habit for the time being.

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I went to see Henry's therapist, the pretty woman in the picture Sherlock sent me.I originally planned to ask Henry for his contact information, but when I walked past a small restaurant, I saw her sitting in it, facing the window, reading a menu.

I pushed the door and walked in, then tried to smile gently and friendly: "Hi, I'm Henry's friend."

She was obviously surprised, but then she smiled, the lip gloss on her lips was very beautiful: "Hi, I heard Henry mentioned you, you are his friend in London, right?"

"Yes, I'm worried about him." Obviously, Henry didn't mention Sherlock's identity, which is fine.

I successfully sat across from her, pretended to check the menu carefully, and finally ordered a pasta. After ordering, I realized that what I ordered was not my favorite, but Sherlock's favorite spaghetti bolognese.

John H. Watson, you are beyond redemption.This voice came to my head again.

Henry’s psychiatrist is a very talkative woman, and we are both doctors. Although we belong to different backgrounds, we still have a lot of common language. For example, what he likes is also what I like, although I don’t understand why a psychiatrist should like to explain Plan to learn.

"The human body is an art." When she said this, she smiled beautifully.

Except, obviously, I'm too preoccupied with what Sherlock asked me to ask right now, and I don't have time to admire her beauty.

I can't even remember what she said her name was when I just introduced myself.

"You look absent-minded." She said, her eyes flicking to the wine glass next to her from time to time. .

I smiled at her. My ex-girlfriend taught me that women are more sensitive than men, so don't try to deceive them.I have too many girlfriends who leave me without hesitation because they are keenly aware that their boyfriends are not pure men who like women.As it turns out, they were right, even after I denied it for so long.

Seeing that I was silent, she didn't ask any more questions, but said, "Did I tell you that I have Twitter?"

I was stunned when I heard it. In fact, I only recently became familiar with Twitter. Because there are too many people leaving messages, I set up a fixed follower. I don’t think my own Twitter is very famous, so I still smile Asked: "So would you like to share with me the interesting things inside?"

"Of course." She smiled, then slowly swayed the red wine in the glass, "I followed someone whose name is the same as yours, what a coincidence. The roommate who lives with him is a big detective with a mean mouth, but very Sexy, they are very popular on Twitter. Today the big detective updated a tweet, he said that he was learning how to fall in love, and then accidentally lost the popularity he liked."

These clues are too obvious, so obvious that they are not concealed.

Well, even if I'm not particularly smart, I know, I've been identified, and again, gay.Even if I'm gay now, at least don't say it so bluntly.

And Sherlock updated Twitter?I never noticed that if he really said that and apologized, I could forgive him... conditional forgiveness.

"I apologize, I did deceive you about something, but please believe that I did not mean any harm."

She smiled at me, and she looked elegant and sexy when she raised her lips. If it was a few months ago, I would strike up a conversation with her without hesitation, and then start a relationship smoothly—although I am not A tall and handsome type like Sherlock, but I seem to be naturally attractive to women.

But now, a damn bastard made me lose this fun thing.

She smiled and shook the wine glass, the glass of red wine was always in her hand: "I don't think you will find me out for no reason, tell me, what do you want to know, if you make me happy, I may tell you. "

This sentence is a bit frivolous, which is very inconsistent with her reservedness just now. It reminds me of a woman named Irene, but my face is still calm: "In this case, I want to ask you some questions formally, I don't know ..."

"Hush." ​​The woman raised a finger to her lips, then smiled and shook the wine glass in her hand, as if she had discovered something interesting, "Can you see it? The reflection inside."

I blinked and looked over to the wine glass.

However, I couldn't see the reflection that she could see, but I saw a person not far away through the intoxicating wine-red liquid. He was wearing a snow-white shirt and a well-tailored suit, and his back was facing us. .

The exquisite blocking in the restaurant prevented me from seeing his hair, but I could still recognize him at a glance, and the curvature of that neck will never be forgotten in my life.

The beautiful arc from the chin to the collarbone belongs exclusively to a man named Sherlock.

The author has something to say: Juan Juan said, I am not afraid of QAQ at all!

Found the full version of Good Doctor Little Hedgehog =v=

Little Liberty, you are swollen, you are so cute, the welfare claw machine party: