Chapter 35, Episode 24: I Want to Make New Friends...
Episode 24 "I'm Going to Make New Friends"
I was eventually taken to the hospital for a stomach pump.
Because the capsule I spat out had a small crack, and I did taste a slightly bitter flavor, Watson suspected that poison had leaked out of the capsule. Even though I insisted that I didn't feel any discomfort, Watson's attitude remained "safety first."
Therefore, I was forced to stay in the hospital for observation.
In the meantime, I had to console myself that there was no harm in doing the whole thing.
But after I went through a difficult stomach pumping process, and could only lie weakly in the hospital bed, I couldn't help but stare at the snow-white, unchanging ceiling, and began to wonder if Watson was naturally dark-skinned.
Because he knew I was teasing him, he deliberately went along with it and insisted that I spend the night in the hospital.
Just as I was about to officially make a mental note of Watson's name, he actually came to visit me early in the morning, and very much in line with the tropes of TV dramas, he brought me a small bouquet of lilies and baby's breath.
"Discharge gift".
"Huh, a gift for me?" I asked incredulously, even sniffing it. "It smells quite nice."
London spoke up after my reaction: "You actually like flowers?"
"No," I replied quickly, "flowers are a troublesome gift. If they wilt, you just have to throw them in the trash, right? To me, receiving such a gift is like receiving a reminder to 'remember to throw it in the trash.'"
London: "...but you don't seem to dislike it."
I thought about it for a moment, and then said, "The first time I received flowers was when I was hospitalized."
This shouldn't have needed to be told to London, but now I don't need to hide anything from him. There are some things I can say, since he can't possibly know the truth anyway.
"My happiness doesn't lie in the flowers themselves," I said lightly, fiddling with the flower stems. "I just find it quite interesting, like I'm actually in a TV drama, receiving flowers even when I'm sick."
"...It's great, it's quite interesting."
I was secretly delighted.
London seemed lost in thought, as if still struggling to understand the situation and digest this logic.
As for me, I have already unilaterally forgiven Watson for making me have my stomach pumped for no reason.
Not to mention, I did look even more haggard after being admitted to the hospital. Watson also earnestly advised me not to be too stubborn and to ask my friends for help when needed.
Clearly, he misunderstood me.
This misunderstanding is like someone handing me a pole; if I don't climb it, I'll seem ungrateful.
“In that case,” I looked up at Watson, a slight smile playing on my lips, “let’s have a meal together sometime after I’m discharged from the hospital?”
Watson looked troubled.
This confuses me a bit.
"Just find some time?" I couldn't help but ask. "I don't believe you're always busy."
Why is it so hard to book a meal?
I really don't understand.
Watson coughed lightly, his tone suddenly becoming serious: "Mr. Milverton."
...He actually used an honorific title?
"Speak," I said crisply.
Watson didn't beat around the bush this time: "I have no intention of developing a romantic relationship with someone of the same sex. If you don't mind, we can just be friends..."
I remained calm on the surface, but the little cat inside me was furrowing its brow so tightly that it could barely open its eyes.
“Wait a minute,” I interrupted him, “Isn’t this just a normal process for making friends? I’ve always done it this way since I was a student.”
I even started to seriously recall if I had done anything that might have caused a misunderstanding.
I used to meet one person at a time and make one friend. Now I'm being quite restrained.
If it weren't for London constantly saying that I was being too low-class and restricting my social life every day, forbidding me from casually laughing and joking with others...
Now it suddenly comes to mind that London often criticized me.
"London, how could you do this?"
London, suddenly criticized, was also taken aback and asked me, "What did I do?"
I didn't answer; I just let London figure it out himself.
Watson, however, simply stared at me, as if deciphering some kind of crime scene clue. After several seconds, his Adam's apple bobbed once, and his voice was lower than before.
"Student days?"
“Yes.” I leaned back on the pillow, recalling the dust swirling in the sunlight and the sweat-soaked backs of the teenagers’ shirts. “On the road, if I saw an acquaintance ahead, I would run a few steps, jump on them, and ask them to carry me. If my friends and I had drinks, we would share them, passing them around. Who cared about such things?”
Watson finally moved, carefully choosing his words, "So, you're just inviting me to dinner?"
uh-huh.
"Finding a regular dining partner will save me from always being alone, staring at the restaurant menu, hesitant to try everything but afraid of wasting food." I shrugged. "Is this some kind of special ritual?"
Watson raised a hand to rub his temples, his voice muffled as it came through his fingers: "Lestrade said you... in his own words, 'so rich that the entire Scotland Yard's year-end bonus looks like pocket money.'"
I raised an eyebrow in response to her words.
He lowered his hand, a look on his face that was somewhere between helplessness and self-mockery.
“In my understanding,” he said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully, “someone like you, who would specifically ask an ordinary person like me, who has no value, to have dinner alone, would not usually do so just to discuss which restaurant’s steak is better aged.”
He paused, then added, "Especially back when I was in school, asking a lady or gentleman out for coffee alone in a café was practically a 'can I pursue you?' statement. Let alone inviting them to dinner..."
He raised his hand and gestured, not finishing his sentence, but the meaning was very clear.
I couldn't help but laugh out loud, and my stomach started to hurt from laughing so much.
“If you’re so worried,” I said with a laugh, “you can just invite Holmes along every time we eat.”
"This way, I can guarantee that you will never have any chance to be harmed by me."
The continued laughter made Watson even more embarrassed.
He cleared his throat: "I'll choose the restaurant."
He then quickly added, "But let's make it clear first, for our first meal together, we'll split the bill."
"good!"
I answered crisply and decisively.
Yeah!!!
That way I can even schedule an appointment with Sherlock Holmes.
From that moment on, I became a good friend of Holmes and Watson!
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Author's note: 20 random small red envelopes!
Should we start with the third case tomorrow, followed by a third-person perspective on the second case (which would be faster-paced)? Or should we continue with the final episodes in the third person tomorrow?
Thank you for your comments and support!!! [Hugs][Hugs][Hugs]
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