[sherlock] Spirit and flesh

It was more trouble than I thought, I was stuck next to Johnny's bassinet bed, he was crying through the ceiling of my second in-law's house, I had to hold him until the snot was hanging on his face Before I fell asleep, in a blink of an eye, it was past 11 o'clock in the evening.

I feel something is wrong, I run to catch the last subway, I can run fast if I want to, but I always slow Sherlock, giving the illusion that I have been tailing behind his ass, I I will not admit that there is any relationship between the speed of running and the length ratio of the legs.

I tried to walk side by side with him as much as possible, and believe me, this bravado got me half dead from walking the streets with him.But recently I found that Sherlock, who always pays attention to efficiency, is walking more and more slowly. He will always turn around to look for me when he is moving forward, as if he is afraid of losing me on the way.

I have never held hands with him publicly on the street. If I really come to this step, I will be in a trance when I hang out with him all day. heat and sweat.

I sat in the cold car, and kept taking out my phone from my pocket to check, but there were no text messages or missed calls, and Sherlock didn't make any movement, which made me feel uneasy.Maybe, I thought, he'd been distracted by the case again, and that would be great.

I returned to the apartment at nearly 12 o'clock, and took a deep breath of fear at the door. There was an adult baby inside who would bombard the walls with ammunition, and I left him "for another night" for some reason. At this moment, I don't know what it will be Such an expression.

Using the key to open the door, I took off my coat and walked up the stairs, "Sherlock? I'm back." I said, and walked into the living room with a wall lamp on, my undressing was halfway stiff, I doubted my I went to the wrong room, and I stared dumbfounded at the clean and tidy living room like a museum. The curtains were dusted off, the bookshelves and tabletops were in order, the pillows on the sofa were fluffy and soft, and the floor reflected I can't bear to step on it with my shoes.

I stood stupidly at the door, swallowed, my coat still hanging on my arm.

Sherlock was wearing his signature nightgown, which consisted of a white cotton T-shirt and blue trousers, with his legs stretched out on the ottoman, his hands spread out on the armrests of the sofa, sitting like a young master , looking at me with a look that doesn't stop staring at me.

I immediately lowered my head guiltily, slowly took off my coat, hung it between my arms, and changed the subject, "Ah...it's so clean...it's spotless, beyond my expectation, you are amazing, Sherlock ..."

He snorted, his whole body was like an iceberg, "I sat here without moving for 6 hours."

"You didn't have dinner?"

He narrowed his eyes and jumped up, I shrank back in shock, my coat fell to my feet, I leaned against the door frame, Sherlock came barefoot, with a look on his face that wanted to whip me at any time, he There is neither a whip nor a small ruler in his hand, but he still has an aura that can kill me.

I confronted him with my stubborn courage and willpower: "No... there is no way... Sherlock, I have something to do temporarily..."

"No matter how you look at it, your son is more important than me." Sherlock walked in front of me and looked down at me. Sometimes I really hate his height, and I have to look up at him.

"You are such a rational genius, don't be jealous with a newly weaned kid."

"Then how do you make up for the precious time I spend on the couch."

I muttered aggrievedly: "I didn't make you have to sit still and wait for me..."

"What did you say?"

"Cough," I cleared my throat, and raised my head to look directly at him, "If it was me, I'd go to sleep."

"I know, that's what you do to me when I go out to work, huh!" Sherlock looked down at my face, "But tonight is different, I told you to come home early, and you nodded yes. When I ordered you before, you never missed an appointment, how many pigeons of your ex-girlfriend did you release? But a little Johnny held you back."

"How can he compare to those ex-girlfriends, he's my son." I thought to myself, as the freak's poor roommate, am I the man with the most ex-girlfriends in all of London?

"Why can't it be compared? Where can't it be compared? And, no matter how you compare, I am the most important person in your life, and I must be the first in your heart no matter what."

"Ha, who made the rules? I like to put whoever comes first. Maybe I used to be centered on you, but now, I have more important things filling my life , you are not my number one."

Sherlock fell silent suddenly, narrowing his eyes and staring at me seriously, then he walked away from me with his chin up, like a ghost of a knight who had been wronged in the enemy country, and went straight into the corridor, the back of his nightgown dangling back and forth Behind him, the arrogant back hit his room: "You sleep on the sofa tonight. Your room on the third floor has been cleared, and there is no furniture in it."

I froze in place, I was shocked, all the shocked hairs stood on end and trembled and roared on my body, did I hear wrong?

"You asked me to sleep on the sofa?" I hurriedly followed behind him, clenched my fists in front of me and protested, "I hope I wake up in your arms every day, you just said that this morning."

Standing at the door, Sherlock turned around suddenly, looking at me coldly, his eyes seemed to be floating with two icebergs that crashed the Titanic, almost freezing me in place.

"Hmph. If I tell you to sleep on the sofa, you can sleep on the sofa, you little doctor who doesn't keep your promise." He snorted contemptuously on my forehead, and then closed the door.

I froze at the door of his room, the expression on my face must be stupid, does he, the bastard, know what he's doing?He locked John Watson out of the room and sent me to sleep on the sofa. This kind of behavior of playing with fire is very rude and dangerous, does he know that?

"Hey Sherlock, hey! Bastard. You think about the consequences! Before I actually let you go on the plane, you better open the door for me, I can do anything, and I will go to a hotel and let you rot for the rest of my life In 221B, use your alpaca-like face to waste your boring and depraved and damned life endlessly!" I raised my hand and knocked on the door vigorously.

The door opened quickly, and I gave him a wry smile that reproached him. The hard-hearted Sherlock also softened immediately, "That's good, Sherlock..."

Sherlock stuffed a quilt into my arms with a blank expression, and then pressed a big pillow on the quilt, almost blocking my gaze at him, and I pressed the pillow with my chin to prevent it from rolling to the floor, " Wait...why did you give me these..."

The door slammed and closed fiercely in front of my face. I heard the ruthless sound of locking inside, and I woke up in disbelief, "Hey! Bastard! You really locked me out of the door! Do you know!" I roared loudly at the door, "Okay, okay, you can spend this meaningless, dark, lonely, empty, helpless and long suffering night in your room!"

I have been kicked out of the bedroom by my wife before because I sneaked out to take risks with Sherlock in the middle of the night without telling them, but tonight is different, tonight I was kicked out by this heartless bad guy, I was really full of anger and couldn't find a place to vent it.

I hugged the quilt and pillows and threw them messily on the sofa. Damn, what heinous thing did I do wrong?Why is he so mean?Isn't it just a few hours late to go home?I've never blamed him before when he got stuck and missed appointments, bloody self-centered Holmes.

I was so angry that I couldn't sleep well, neither sitting nor lying down on the sofa, I got up from the messy quilt, ran to the dining room and opened the refrigerator door, I was dumbfounded again.

I looked at the well-organized refrigerator in disbelief, and seriously doubted whether the place I was in tonight was the real 221B, or a fictional fantasy space. There was yogurt next to the eggs, oranges under the yogurt, and buttered bread next to the oranges. I can no longer find a bloody head, heart, or severed finger. I pursed my lips and looked at the neat refrigerator. Sherlock's intentions softened me again. I am like this, love and hate, love and hate.

I took two cans of beer, sat on the sofa depressed, facing the TV, picked up the remote control and changed the channel vigorously. My heart was not on those wonderful late-night shows. I turned to Sherlock every 5 minutes. I glanced at the bedroom door, expecting him to open the door suddenly, rushing over, pounced over regretfully, curled up in my arms like a huge black cat, looking at me with big watery misty eyes, shaking He held my arm and begged me to go back to his room to sleep with him.

What is there for him to be so angry!Cheapskate Holmes! ! ! !Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!I literally had to press the remote out of one hole after another.In my eyes at the moment, even TV shows are annoying as hell!

I forget when I fell asleep, I woke up with my quilt on, the TV in the living room was turned off, I rubbed my eyes, sat up from the sofa, covered my face and recalled, I couldn’t remember When I got up, I turned off the TV, and I didn't have this memory in my mind.

I looked at the dark TV screen in a daze, ah, hell, I can't remember how I put the quilt on my body, I just remember holding the remote control that I abused and watched in frustration TV, I feel sleepy after watching it, and then I tilt my head on the back of the sofa and there is no more.

I flexed my tortured neck a bit, half of my body went numb from the couch, and I missed Sherlock's double bed - or my damn single that got cleared out.

I lowered my head and walked straight into the bathroom. At 32:[-] in the morning, I got up too early, and a figure suddenly appeared in front of me. I was caught off guard and almost passed out on his chest. I supported the wall, Looking up at him, Sherlock has just come out of the room, his hair is a mess of seaweed, it looks like he wants to use the bathroom like me.

I narrowed my eyes and said without giving in, "I'll go in first."

"Why, I paid two-thirds of the rent. You owed the old lady several months of utility bills. Why do you think she never pursued it? It was because I gagged her mouth with real money, the bathroom No matter how you look at it, I, a VIP tenant, have priority.” His head never lowered, he kept scanning me with his chin and nostrils, his eyelids were drawn together, his eyes were full of contempt and arrogance, I really want to Use your fist to correct his expression of rejecting me thousands of miles away.

I clenched my fists in front of him and said loudly: "Actually, I am willing to live with you because you have cultivated blessings in your previous life. Even if you have money, you can't hire a roommate who works hard like me. I have never lived with you." What a kindness and kindness to have to pay for mental damage and running errands. No one but me can tolerate you as a terrible sociopath. Fortunately, you didn't agree to Molly's marriage proposal, otherwise I would advise her to marry You, she might as well die, even marrying a giraffe is better than marrying you, living with you is the most worrying thing in my life, I have to live in my very very very very busy life every day Take a little bit of time to care about whether you are still alive, whether you were poisoned to death by your own potted plants, whether a supermarket salesman chopped off your head, I really shouldn't have refused Mycroft's offer to give me money'care 'Your suggestion, living with you, I'm like a great and desperate philanthropist who aids the madhouse, do you understand??!"

Sherlock looked at me as if he was about to put me in the front-loading washing machine and spin it twice, murderously, "John Watson, who is out of his mind, what do you think you are? Admit it, you are the most perverted That one, knowing that I am a dangerous and distorted freak, but still embarrassed to post it upside down with a silly face, just to satisfy your slightest interest in curiosity and change your very poor, boring, very boring life like plain boiled water, you Use me to add energy, excitement and fun to your life, you approach me purely because of my ability to create chaos, you love the chaos and unprecedented crisis, you love this, how can you complain Am I worrying about you? The happiest thing in your life should be someone worrying about you and someone who needs you, a sick little pug dog after leaving the army, there is nothing you can do, you want to live here Yes, you long to be with me, but poor little thing, I tell you, I have countless unsolved cases and mysteries, and I don't need your company when I'm busy!"

"You don't need me? Damn... what do you mean by that?" I glared at him angrily. I believe that the expression on my face can scare the Evergreen to pick up the flower pot under it and run wildly, crying, " I don't care! I'm going to use the bathroom first anyway!"

"There are no doors."

Sherlock put one arm on the door frame to prevent me from going in, I ducked my head and slipped under his arm, Sherlock grabbed my crumpled shirt collar and threw me against the corridor wall, I roared, Like an annoyed red-eyed pit bull, he rushed over and got into a ball with him. The situation got worse and worse. We grabbed each other's collars and hit the wall. The mural fell to the ground and he tripped me. , This move can't subdue me, I have been on guard for a long time, my fighting skills will not lose him at all.

The moment my back hit the ground, I turned over, Sherlock lost his balance and rolled on the ground, in a blink of an eye, I had the upper hand, I sat on him, and raised a fist full of resentment in my ear , looked at him furiously.

Sherlock was lying there with outstretched arms grabbing my collar, his eyes sparkling, as if tears of grievance would overflow from his pupils if my fist accidentally landed on his face, I'm fed up with his expression of being willing to be beaten. If someone outside is watching, they will definitely think that I am bullying him from the beginning to the end. Damn it, even if I have bullied him to some extent, then, what Sherlock did to me The bastard's actions are obviously even more excessive!Unreasonable and capricious, it's him, not me, who is doing the wrong thing!

How could he look at me with the grievance that John Watson bullied him for half his life!

My fist hits the floor.

I can't tell what we are arguing about.