[Comprehensive] 221B's dead house girl

In the morning, Connie woke up in the warm sunshine.

Although the standard hospital windows had left a bad impression on her, but because the sun was too bright and warm, she forgot those bad memories for a while.

In addition, before he was fully awake, he heard Sherlock's voice.

"Are you awake?" The deep and deep voice was full of concern, like drizzle in the spring breeze.

Connie subconsciously returned a smile, and then realized: "That person..."

"he died."

Connie was a little dazed, and she was pulled out of the good mood in the morning for a moment. Her last memory was that she met Sherlock who broke through the wall in a pool of blood.

It was only one night, but it seemed like a lifetime away.

"Drink some porridge." He got up from the sofa and sat next to the hospital bed with a bowl of white rice porridge.

"Lestrade sent it." He pursed his lips.

Connie thanked her, and was about to take the porridge bowl, but found that the spoon had already been handed to her eyes.

She looked up in doubt, and saw Sherlock was raising his left hand, as if he was going to feed her with a spoon.

Connie: "..."

"What's the matter?" Seeing that she didn't drink, Sherlock asked.

Connie looked at the slender white fingers in front of her eyes, and swallowed, "How long have I been asleep?"

Sherlock glanced at his watch: "Eighteen hours and 18 minutes and 47 seconds."

Connie twitched her eyebrows: "I've been asleep for so long..."

Sherlock nodded, and Connie's eyes became even more strange.

So it was just one night, and Sherlock woke up early in the morning and sat next to her hospital bed to feed her porridge?what's the situation?

"Open your mouth." As if she didn't like her expression now, Sherlock didn't show any expression, but he opened his mouth again. Although it was just a soft sentence, it sounded faintly threatening to Connie's ears.

Well, it is her honor to be fed porridge by Sherlock Holmes, and it should be regarded as a big prize, after all, she just escaped death... Thinking of killing a person with her own hands, Connie's body trembled for a moment trembling.

"The air conditioner is too cold?"

Connie shook her head, opened her mouth and took a sip of porridge.

Suddenly, silence came unexpectedly.

"what about the taste?"

"Is this from Lestrade?" She looked at Sherlock suspiciously, and the haze in her heart was suddenly dispelled by the magical taste of the porridge.

Sherlock's fingers moved slightly, and there was no unnatural expression on his face: "It should be, there is no one else but him."

Connie nodded calmly: "Okay..." She suddenly stopped, recalling Sherlock's words.

What should it be?

Even if he didn't see Lestrade's person, couldn't he deduce who sent it?

Not to mention when did Sherlock speak so ambiguously?

Seeing her staring at him, Sherlock's eyelids moved: "What? It doesn't taste good?" He said, holding a spoon and wanting to try it.

Connie grabbed his hand in a strange way: "No, it's delicious, and I'm a little hungry, why don't you go buy another takeaway?"

A trace of obvious joy flickered across Sherlock's eyebrows and eyes, and he nodded: "Okay, if that's the case."

Connie took the bowl of porridge, her face was a little stiff: "Just bring me some other breakfast, I feel very hungry." She smiled and took another mouthful of porridge.

Sherlock nodded, opened the door and went out without saying anything.

Connie, who was in the ward, turned around and picked up her mobile phone to send a text message to Lestrade: Thank you for the porridge.

After a while, Lestrade's text message came back.

"Porridge? What porridge? Do you want porridge?"

Connie had such an expression on her face, she put down her phone, looked at the porridge in her hand, her face turned bitter.

It was the first time that Sherlock cooked porridge for her, but the taste of this porridge...

After looking at the trash can in the room, Connie hesitated for a while, and then closed her eyes as if she was dead. Sherlock was so kind, so don't let him down. Anyway, it's just a bowl of porridge, at most it tastes a little strange. Never drink anything...

Ten minutes later, Connie lay peacefully on the hospital bed, and the bowl on the cabinet was empty. When Sherlock came back with the buns, he saw her lying on the bed as if half asleep, so he didn't bother her. He read the book and sat on the sofa, but the corners of his mouth were slightly raised.

Connie didn't take the momentary smile into her eyes. In fact, because of her miscalculation, her stomach was fighting right now.

She closed her eyes and tried her best to ignore the faint discomfort by sleeping, but this feeling became more and more intense, and she could even feel the churning in her stomach.

It's heartbreaking.

Opening her eyes annoyed, she stared at Sherlock, who was concentrating on reading, trying to divert her attention, but caught off guard and met his turned gaze, as if he had noticed when she looked over.

His clean eyebrows sank slightly, and he got up and strode to the bedside: "What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable?"

He glanced at the sweat on Connie's forehead, pressed the red bell, and thirty seconds later the nurse entered the room.

"What's wrong? What's wrong with the patient?"

Sherlock flipped Connie aside and glanced at her: "Sweaty forehead, nervousness, preliminarily determined to be a sudden unknown pain in the body..."

Connie smiled: "I'm fine, just a little hot." She waved her hand and sat up with the support, trying to wave her hand to show the heat, but the cramping in her stomach suddenly became heavy.

In an instant, she couldn't help but her complexion changed drastically, she bent down all of a sudden, her shoulders twitched uncontrollably.

Sherlock's eyes sharpened. Looking at Connie's reaction, he suddenly seemed to realize something, and put his eyes on the empty bowl, his eyes sank slightly.

The nurse checked Connie and gave her a glass of warm water: "It probably hurt her stomach, drink a glass of warm water and lie down for a while, if it still hurts later, I'll ask the doctor to prescribe medicine for you, okay?" The nurse said softly Asked, Connie nodded, took warm water and drank it, but it had no effect on the pain in her stomach.

Her suppressed face fell into Sherlock's eyes.

As soon as the nurse left, he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Why didn't you say it?" His eyes were on the bowl of porridge.

Connie gave him a guilty look: "It's Lestrade's wish after all, it's not worth wasting..."

Sherlock pursed his lips and looked at her: "The way you lie is so stupid."

Connie was taken aback for a moment, was she swearing?

She looked at Sherlock who seemed a little angry, and felt very wronged, please, she was the one who drank his porridge bomb.

After a pause, she nodded: "Well, I know you did it..."

Waiting for Sherlock to get angry next, Connie lowered her head, but suddenly there was an extra palm, with a warm and gentle touch.

"Don't force yourself." Connie didn't know if she heard it wrong, but she heard a slight sigh.

She looked up, looked into Sherlock's eyes, and thought it was all so weird.

Sherlock looks like a different person today.

But such a change is not enough to make her think that he is another person.

This is a changed Sherlock.

Connie was a little hesitant, she didn't know if she should ask, she really felt very strange, and a little bit uncomfortable.

Sherlock's hesitant look made him chuckle: "Ask whatever you want."

This time, Connie didn't make any mental preparations, and asked directly: "Why are you so strange?"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows: "Strange? Why is it strange? Where?"

Connie frowned: "Make porridge for me, feed me porridge, and... now treat me so tenderly... This is not like you at all, although I am a child, I don't misunderstand, but... ...Is there really nothing major happened? Or have I been sleeping for a year, and you lied to me that I only slept for one day?" She looked at her palm and found that it was no different from the size before going to bed.

A chuckle emerged from Sherlock's throat, and the raised corner of his mouth made Connie stunned. Today, Sherlock seems to be in a good mood?

Connie's ears were a little red.

Her heart beat suddenly two beats faster, accompanied by a churning in her stomach, which made her not know what to do.

"There is no misunderstanding." There was a long silence, and Connie was waiting for Sherlock's answer, but she didn't expect that there would only be such a few words of reply.

No misunderstanding.

No misunderstanding?

I saw Connie couldn't turn the corner for a long time.

Sherlock spoke again: "It's okay to misunderstand."

Connie is different from other children. She is even more mature than some adults. She has her own insights, principles, and worldview. No one can break the core principles. Look, isn't she the best proof now.

So... she has a soul that is enough to make him look differently.

Squinting his eyes in satisfaction, Sherlock looked at Connie with the same look in his eyes.

Now that he has made a decision, he never regrets or thinks about it.

Connie was suddenly woken up by this bomb.

More than just waking up.

She looked at Sherlock in horror: "You..."

The word "like me" is like a dinosaur egg blocking the sparrow hole, and it can't get out no matter what.

The momentary comprehension of the soul collided with reason.

After a while, Connie reached behind Sherlock's ear.

"...What are you doing?" Sherlock, who had been teased by her for a while, couldn't help asking, the touch on his neck made him feel very uncomfortable.

Connie dropped her hand in frustration, no cock.

Is this really Sherlock, not Moriarty?

It feels like Sherlock can't say such a thing...

Don't say he is not interested in love, even if he is interested...

"You hope I'm Moriarty?" A deep greeting came from next to her ear, and Connie was startled, and found that she seemed to have expressed her doubts unconsciously, and suddenly met Sherlock's murderous gaze, and laughed.

"Just kidding, haha...that's...you know, haven't you always followed the rhythm of a lonely old man..."

"Who said that?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her.

Connie stared at him, recalling all the relationship between the two of them, and finally found that he did not express any thoughts about being lonely for life, but...

"Don't you think love is boring? And it's stupid, it's something you don't have any interest in at all..." Isn't this just lifelong loneliness?She is still good at learning Chinese in primary school.

Sherlock paused, looking at her trembling eyelashes: "Yes, love is indeed a boring thing."

Connie looked at him.

"But you're not bored."

The author has something to say: Connie who was awake said: Fuck, the confession came unexpectedly (⊙_⊙)

And so is this a confession trilogy~ hahaha...

There are two more updates, relatively late at night, I can’t wait to watch it tomorrow, I agreed to [-] today, and I will send you a bag of candies~