At the head of the bed,
The rectangular lamp emitted a dim light.
Anne lay on the bed, not daring to move.
Shylock was half-lying, his heavy body pressing down on one of her arms. Through the thin shirt,
The warmth of his body spread to her body bit by bit.
Anne waited quietly for a while. He closed his eyes as if he had already fallen asleep.
She looked around,
She found the thin blanket that had been thrown in the corner on the floor under the bed.
Then she looked at the man beside her who seemed to be sleeping soundly,
Anne moved slightly,
She wanted to slowly pull her arm out.
Her skin kept rubbing against his shirt, and the temperature that penetrated through became more obvious. Anne's face turned red bit by bit.
Just as she was a little at a loss,
A deep voice drilled into his ears.
"Don't move."
Anne instantly froze,
She raised her head and met a pair of gray-green eyes.
He was awake?
Then Anne remembered that Shylock was now..,
His eyes were open, and it was not his usual waking state.
"Did I wake you up?" Anne tried her best to ask calmly and gently.
Shylock looked at her and did not say anything.
His direct and focused gaze made Anne a little flustered.
"You, you're pressing against my arm."
Shylock lifted his body slightly, and Anne immediately pulled her arm out.
"Why are you on my bed?" His gaze was still locked on her face.
Anne was almost stunned by this question.
"You..." Anne really couldn't say it,
It was you who carried me up.
She propped herself up with her arm,
She wanted to get off the bed first.
But Shylock, who didn't get an answer, didn't agree.
He stretched out an arm rudely,
He dragged her back easily. Then, that arm wrapped around her.
In this position..,
Anne was almost entirely wrapped in his arms. She could even feel that her cheek was gently pressed against the warm and smooth skin on his chin.
Anne was crazy. Was he awake or not!
"You're trying to seduce me," Mr. Holmes concluded.
There was even a hint of delight in his voice.
Anne's entire body was burning red.
She buried her face in his arms and retorted softly, "I didn't."
He was the one who had been seducing her.
The room was dark and silent.
Anne didn't dare to move.
She prayed that he would fall asleep again like before.
After a long time, just when Anne thought that he had fallen asleep again, she suddenly felt a soft touch on her ear.
That was …
Anne shuddered and instinctively began to struggle.
But two strong arms held her tightly, making her unable to break free.
"Shylock …"
"Yes." A low and hoarse voice responded.
That warm, soft, and moist touch was still moving gently, bringing a scorching heat to her slender neck. Further down, it was her delicate and beautiful collarbone.
His lips seemed to be trembling slightly as his hot breath swept across her skin. Slowly, but forcefully, he continued to caress her.
Anne closed her eyes and almost couldn't feel her breathing.
But he began to slowly move up her neck. Then, it was her chin and her cheeks.
When he kissed her cheeks, he muttered vaguely, "Don't let others kiss you!"
Anne's thoughts were almost stagnant. When did she let others kiss her?
His ridge like nose gently slid across her face, and his impatient lips seemed to be searching for something.
Anne's limbs were weak.
He was Shylock … but … she couldn't.
"Shylock! … Shylock! … "
Anne called him anxiously. But in his ears, it sounded like a sweet urging.
The tip of his nose had already gently brushed the corner of her lips, and he was about to …
Anne finally grabbed his shirt tightly and pushed the person in front of her away before her last trace of rationality drowned her.
"Shylock! … "
He raised his eyelids in dissatisfaction. "What?"
After that, he lowered his head and leaned over. She smelled very good, just like the sweet cake she handed him that night in Netherfield Garden.
It made him want to take a bite.
"Shylock …" Anne pushed him hard so that he could see her eyes. She asked softly, "Do you know who I am?"
Even in this semi-conscious state, Mr. Holmes instinctively retorted sarcastically, "That's a stupid question."
His voice was deeper than usual. Although he was throwing a tantrum impatiently, there was a hint of hoarseness in his voice. In the quiet night, it especially softened people's hearts.
Anne smiled slightly, but still asked persistently, "Then do you know who I am?"
An anxious voice answered, "… Anne De Boer."
A ball of warmth finally pressed down, blocking all her disturbing interruptions.
"Mm!"
Anne felt as if she heard a soft sigh, like a lost person who had been walking in the desert for days and finally found a cool and sweet oasis. He couldn't wait to jump in and quench all his thirst …
His scent was familiar to Anne, but it also seemed a little unfamiliar.
Anne couldn't hear her own heartbeat at all, nor could she hear his. All of their senses seemed to be focused on the lips of the two people. Scorching hot, soft, and eager …
His tall body covered her body, and his arms hugged her tightly. It was so strong and real …
As long as she thought of who was doing all this to her, Anne couldn't help trembling.
However, he still wasn't completely awake.
He hugged and kissed her for a long time until his lips slowly moved away. He moved to her ear and whispered her name softly, "… Anne."
Then, he buried his face in her neck and stopped moving.
He fell asleep again …
Anne opened her eyes and stared at the light reflected on the curtains for a long time.
Finally, she shook her head and chuckled. She opened her slender arms, hugged him, and closed her eyes.
Before falling asleep completely, Anne's last thought was that she had caught a cold. Would she pass it to him? …
.
Anne woke up because of the heat.
She opened her eyes. She was the only one on the bed. This was normal. However, when she saw the messy bedsheets on the other side, some memories started to come back.
She was in Shylock's bedroom.
And she was on the bed …
Anne felt that her face was a little hot and her head was dizzy.
She reached out to touch her forehead. There was a thin layer of sweat. There was also a little fever.
Every time she caught a cold, it was like this. There weren't any symptoms that were too difficult to bear. It was just a continuous fever that made her feel dizzy.
Anne sat on the bed in a daze for a while. When she got up to wear her shoes, she remembered that she was thrown onto the bed by Shylock yesterday and didn't have time to take off her shoes. Later on, they … she didn't take off her shoes.
That was …
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden opening of the bedroom door.
Shylock stood at the door in a shirt and trousers. He had returned to his usual arrogant and indifferent look.
Annie raised her head to look at him, and her breathing immediately became unstable.
Shylock looked at her calmly for a few seconds, then walked to the bed and placed his warm palm on her forehead.
Anne blinked and looked up. She saw his slightly furrowed brows and his thin lips pursed in dissatisfaction.
Shylock retracted his hand and looked down at her. "Are you still feeling unwell?"
Anne shook her head. "Much better." She just didn't have much strength.
With her sitting like this and him standing straight in front of her, Anne was just at his waist.
He was wearing a white shirt today, and the hem of his shirt was tucked into his trousers meticulously, making his waist look very slim and charming.
What should she do? She wanted to reach out and hug him.
Had he already forgotten what happened last night?
But compared to that, Anne wanted to ask about something else more.
She didn't want this question to be stuck between the two of them, so she looked up at him and said softly, "Shylock, I want to ask you a question."
"Hmm." His voice was low with a hint of indifference and laziness.
"Last night, when you looked at me, you called out 'that woman'. Why? "Anne looked at him seriously.
Shylock stared at her for a few seconds without saying a word. Finally, he said in a deep voice, "Is this the question you wanted to ask about last night?"
Anne believed that she could hear the annoyance and dissatisfaction in his voice, as well as … some kind of hint.
This made her head, which was already feverish and dizzy, feel even dizzier.
The curtains of the bedroom were not open yet, and the bright sunlight was blocked out. Only a faint light by the bedside cast shadows on his deep brows. He looked so good.
Anne lowered her head and unconsciously kicked her bare feet. "Isn't this question important?"
Sherlock followed her line of sight and looked down. His eyes met with a touch of white, and his eyes flashed. When he spoke again, his deep voice sounded unusually tense. "If you happen to have the observational skills of an ordinary person, you should have noticed that the coat you lent to 'that woman' yesterday has been returned by her."
This meant that 'that woman' had silently contacted Anne once without him knowing. Mr. Holmes frowned unhappily.
Hearing Shylock's reminder, Anne remembered. Her phone was originally in the pocket of the jacket, and she didn't even realize that the jacket had been returned when she picked up the call.
So, it was because of this reason …
Anne lowered her head and smiled gently.
Shylock looked at the top of her blonde head for a moment and said in a low voice, "An incomprehensible way of thinking." But his light voice had become gentle. "If you're done with your questions, Miss Deboer, can we go and have breakfast?"
Anne nodded.
When they walked out of the door, Anne suddenly realized that he even remembered which jacket she wore last night. Then … he must remember the rest, right?
.
She followed Shylock out of the bedroom. But in the next second, Anne couldn't wait to turn around and go back.
Watson and Mrs. Hudson were in the living room on the second floor. Even Mcauliffe was there.
As soon as she appeared, the three people's burning gazes landed on her. Their expressions said, "Ah, don't be shy. We all know what you've been through. We're all adults, so this is normal. We promise we won't say anything. We're just curious."
Anne stopped at the door of the bedroom. She was in a dilemma.
Shylock glanced at her. He could tell that she was going to be shy for a while, so he walked past her and sat down at the dining table. He calmly picked up a newspaper from the table, looking no different from his usual self.
Anne tried her best to ignore everyone's gazes and expressions. She calmed herself down and walked over quietly.
Mcauliffe held his long black umbrella and stood elegantly in the living room.
Before Shylock went to the bedroom, they were talking about Irene Adler. His dear brother had encountered a rare setback, and it was in the hands of a woman.
Mcauliffe had also seen the video that Lestrade had recorded yesterday. Shylock, who was delirious and talking nonsense, had left a deep impression. Mcauliffe felt that he could use this video to mock his silly brother for a whole year.
But in fact, in the whole video, what Mcauliffe remembered the most was the name of the thin girl who had just walked out. She had appeared 67 times in Shylock's chaotic speech.
67 times …
This was a truly shocking number.
Just now, before their discussion was over, Shylock suddenly got up and walked to the bedroom.
Mcauliffe couldn't help but be surprised. It was difficult to divert Shylock's attention from the case, unless …
Sure enough, it didn't take long for the young lady to come out of the bedroom with Shylock.
Mcauliffe, of course, could see that nothing had happened between Anne and Shylock. But he still laughed and teased, "Should I congratulate you for finally getting rid of the title of 'Britain's First Virgin,' my dear brother?"
Anne choked on a mouthful of tea and coughed softly.
Shylock's calm and indifferent expression didn't change. He just shook the newspaper in his hand and said without looking up, "It seems that your insight has deteriorated again, Mcauliffe. Has your IQ been lowered by your weight? "
Mcauliffe raised his eyebrows and pointed out, "My weight and IQ are very good. You need to worry about yourself."
Shylock snorted and ignored him.
Mrs. Hudson put the breakfast on the table in front of Anne. Only then did she notice her face up close.
"Oh my god, Anne! You look exhausted! " Mrs. Hudson shouted, her condemning gaze skipping Anne and landing on Shylock. "Shylock, you know that Anne is not in good health. You don't know how to control yourself!"
Anne's head was even dizzier. She tried to explain, "No, Mrs. Hudson. I just have a cold … "
"Shylock!" Mrs. Hudson looked even angrier. "Anne has a cold, and you still … Oh my god!" Then the lovely landlady looked at Anne with a serious face. "I've said it before. If you let him do everything, you'll spoil him, Anne. You have to learn to refuse, understand? "
Hearing this, Shylock looked up from the newspaper and asked with great concern, "Why did she refuse me?"
Anne immediately replied subconsciously, "I didn't want to refuse you …"
Mrs. Hudson looked at her with disappointment. "Anne!"
Anne smiled apologetically.
Mrs. Hudson was still scolding her with dissatisfaction. "When he heard that you had a cold, he didn't even know to send you to the hospital …"
Shylock looked up from the newspaper and glanced at Anne. He said matter-of-factly, "She doesn't like hospitals. John is a doctor. He can cure her. "
Anne stopped. Did she say that she didn't like hospitals, or was it because she wanted him to be hospitalized when he was shot?
It turned out that he remembered everything.
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