【Howard】Stockholm Experiment

Eighteen

The cloth over John's eyes was removed, he looked at the surrounding furnishings, and smiled softly: "I didn't expect this place."

"There's more than you can think of." Sherlock pulled John to sit on the carpet and pulled out two measuring cylinders.

"Remember when was the last time we got really drunk?" Sherlock said.The clear liquid was poured into the measuring cylinder, and the splashed wine hit the glass, "I think it is more comfortable to drink with a measuring cylinder."

"Same as last time." He added in a low voice.

"Okay, are you trying to get me drunk and do something?" If it wasn't for the handcuffs, John would have given him two middle fingers.

"Do I need to get you drunk if I want to do something to you?" Sherlock had that "how are you so hopelessly stupid" look on his face.

"..."

Sherlock put two measuring cylinders, tentatively called wine glasses, in front of the two of them, picked one up himself, and poured it with his head up. Some of the wine flowed from the corner of his mouth and hung on his chin, and finally passed over his rolling Adam's apple.

For the rest of the time John just stared blankly at him taking one glass after another.

Maybe this is a good chance to escape... John thought, taking a sip of his beer.

Sherlock put the measuring cylinder on the ground with a "bang": "John!"

John almost thought that Sherlock had the ability to read minds, could it be that his expression was too obvious?

"drink wine."

"Oh..." John shook the graduated cylinder.

Sherlock kept staring at him, and he had to finish his glass.Then the graduated cylinder was then filled by him.

"What the hell do you want me to do…" Sherlock said suddenly, his cheeks flushed slightly.

John subconsciously glanced at the gauge of the measuring cylinder, he must be drunk.Then wait for him to get a little drunk, at that time I can't stop him from leaving him.

"I don't want to lose you," Sherlock said.

"So that's how you do it?" John asked back.

"I... I don't know what to do, John, tell me, what else can I do?"

He was originally sitting cross-legged on the ground, but now he stood up excitedly, grabbing John's arm with both hands, and tears rolled down his eyes as soon as the circles of his eyes turned red.

One drop, two drops, and then recklessly.

Sherlock... crying? John froze.

"You have changed so many girlfriends, can you tell me how to let go?"

"Sherlock!" John was annoyed at him talking about changing girlfriends. "How do you know why I changed girlfriends so often in the first place?"

"It's not because of you!" John shouted, throwing his hand away.

The measuring cylinder was overturned, and all the beer in it was dedicated to the carpet.

"John, forgive me, forgive me for hurting you..." His voice trembled, he didn't know where to put the hand that was thrown away, and finally fell on his lap, "I used to think that you could accompany me for the rest of my life, Later Mary appeared and I found that I couldn't keep you, you clarified our relationship to others over and over again, I don't want to see you leave me like this, so I made this decision."

John was silent.

"I now realize that I was wrong, what I got is not the original John at all."

"All of this is not what I want."

It's like a child who struggles to get a snack that is forbidden by his parents, and then finds that the taste is not what he imagined, that feeling of extreme disappointment.

The snacks have been eaten, and angry parents are already standing at the door.

What happened, cannot be undone.

John was right, when John said "please kill me" to him, he already regretted it.

But the desire to get him drove him on.

How sad, mortal Sherlock.

It was a night like always.

Mycroft flipped through the papers, thinking about what to do with a headache.

The secretary brings a cup of coffee.

Lestrade tossed and turned in bed.

Mrs. Hudson is loaded into an ambulance.

The killer wiped the gun.

Everything is undercurrent and on the road of disintegration.