221B Baker Street.
Russell sat deep in the armchair, holding a freshly brewed cup of black tea in one hand while staring out the window.
The rain was growing heavier, as though the entire world was being swallowed by a flood. Raindrops hammered relentlessly against the windows, eaves, and streets, becoming the main character of London tonight.
Russell and Charlotte were in the living room. Aside from the crackling of firewood in the fireplace, the room was silent. The noise from outside only made the stillness indoors feel even more pronounced.
It felt as though the world was holding a grand fireworks display, but he alone hadn't been invited. He was shut away at home, watching the dazzling fireworks through the window while listening to the cheers and celebratory voices of others.
Charlotte sat in another chair, holding a psychology book and reading in silence.
Russell glanced at her, then looked down at the steaming cup of tea in his hands, but ultimately said nothing.
"She's fine."
Charlotte suddenly spoke without even looking up.
Hearing this, Russell paused for a moment. "Who are you talking about?"
"Who else could it be?"
Charlotte turned a page in her book and said in a flat tone, "Ever since you came downstairs and then went back up, you've looked out the window seventeen times and sighed five times in between.
If you're not worried about her, then I can only assume you're possessed by something."
"..."
Russell was silent for a moment before asking, "Is it that obvious?"
"It's obvious. Even Lestrade would have noticed."
Charlotte finally looked up at him.
"Honestly, Russell, sometimes I think you're too kind."
"Should I take that as a compliment?"
Russell asked.
"No."
Charlotte shook her head. "I'm just stating a fact. Your kindness makes it easy for people to take advantage of you and hurt you."
"For example?"
"For example, how you care for me, and how you indulge Mary."
Charlotte looked at him.
"If she pulls you along, then run with her. If she throws a tantrum and says she doesn't want to go home, then absolutely don't take her home.
You know better than anyone that this is wrong, yet you still did it."
Russell said nothing. He simply took another sip of tea.
"You always unconsciously try to meet other people's needs, but you hardly ever think about yourself."
"Actually… I don't act like this toward just anyone."
Russell said quietly.
"Yes, and that's exactly why you're struggling so much."
Charlotte nodded.
"But in reality, you're worrying too much."
"Why?"
"Mary and I are not as fragile as you imagine.
It's certainly nice that you see her as special, but in truth… it might be good to trust her the way you trust me.
The woman named Mary Morstan may act like a little rabbit in front of you, but she's not that simple of a person."
"How do you think she managed to survive in that kind of family until now, and hide her true nature so well? What kind of simple person do you think she is?"
"It seems you know her quite well."
Russell said.
"Of course. While you were in the shower, we talked quite a bit."
Charlotte still avoided making a direct statement.
"For example?"
"Things like all your various first experiences."
Charlotte looked at him.
"…"
Russell remained silent and simply continued sipping his tea.
However, Charlotte didn't seem inclined to let him off the hook. The girl stood up from the sofa and walked over to him.
"By the way, this afternoon you seemed quite close with her. She even helped dry your hair."
Charlotte spoke as she approached Russell, who was sitting in the chair.
She leaned forward slightly, bringing her nose close to Russell's neck, and gently sniffed.
"…Unpleasant smell."
Warm breath brushed against Russell's skin, creating a faint ticklish sensation.
Russell sat in the chair, his back slightly stiff. He could feel her breathing and the scent of coffee and books mixing with the fresh scent of someone who had just taken a shower.
Her hair fell and brushed against his cheek, leaving behind a slightly cool sensation.
"Charlotte…" he began hesitantly.
"Don't move."
Charlotte's voice was soft but carried an unmistakable authority.
She placed both hands on the armrests of the chair and leaned her body forward slightly, as though enclosing him in a small space that belonged only to her. With her movement, the dark gray robe opened slightly, revealing a portion of her white collarbone, but she didn't seem to notice at all.
"Um… Miss Holmes?"
Russell's throat felt a little dry. "What are you planning to do?"
Charlotte's words were concise and precise.
"If you're going to do it outside, that's one thing. But leaving your own traces on Baker Street? That woman must be dreaming."
She said this in a cold voice, then continued to draw closer.
Even experimental data needs to maintain consistency.
How could I possibly allow someone else to snore next to my bed?
…
The next day.
The rain had stopped.
Faint sunlight filtered through the gaps in the thick clouds, sparsely illuminating the streets that had been drenched all night.
Russell felt as though his internal clock had finally returned to normal.
He stopped the alarm clock before it rang, got dressed, washed his face, and went downstairs to make breakfast.
Just as he was bringing breakfast to the table, the sound of a door opening came from the second floor.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway, slowly and carefully descending the stairs.
When Russell looked up, he saw Charlotte standing at the corner of the stairs in a bathrobe with messy hair.
She yawned as she came down the stairs, first glancing at the dining table, then shifting her gaze to Russell.
"Morning."
She said. Her voice still carried the characteristic rasp of someone who had just woken up.
"Morning."
Russell nodded. "Perfect timing."
Charlotte walked to the dining table, sat in her usual seat, took a sip of milk to moisten her throat, then picked up a still-steaming sandwich and took a bite.
After finishing breakfast, Russell stood up and glanced at the clock.
"I'm heading out now.
He said, "It's a school day today."
"Mm."
Charlotte nodded, her gaze fixed on today's newspaper as she didn't look up.
Russell grabbed his backpack and left through the door.
…
Imperial College London, lecture hall.
Students gathered in groups of two or three, their conversations echoing around them.
After the weekend, the discussions and curiosity surrounding Russell had calmed down considerably compared to their initial intensity.
Some people seemed to have already started betting on who Russell would marry first.
Unfortunately, Russell couldn't clearly make out the odds, nor did he know where to place his bet.
Otherwise, he would have to become a trader himself and teach them what the "Wolf of Baker Street" was really like.
Russell sat in the back row and instinctively glanced at the seat next to him, stopping in slight surprise.
Mary wasn't there.
There was no familiar face in the empty seat, and the air carried almost none of the familiar white-tea fragrance.
Russell unconsciously reached out and touched the chair. It was cold. That meant the girl hadn't sat there yet.
He glanced out the window, then looked toward the doorway. His gaze shifted back and forth between the window and the door, looking somewhat lost.
The seat next to him was empty. It felt as though something was missing.
He casually set down his backpack and sat deep in the chair. He no longer felt like lying down to sleep.
Russell's gaze was fixed on the classroom clock, watching the second hand spin around and around. In the long wait, he could feel time ticking away.
After what felt like an eternity—about ten minutes later—Russell finally heard footsteps approaching from the back door.
He almost instinctively turned around to look and met a pair of eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and affection.
Mary stood at the back door, smiling at him with her blue eyes.
Sunlight streaming in from the corridor window behind her cast a gentle glow on her long silver hair.
"Good morning."
Mary said in her usual sweet voice.
"Morning."
Russell nodded as he watched her sit down next to him. "Why are you so late today?"
"I overslept this morning."
The girl smiled. As though remembering something, she leaned closer to Russell, pressed her face against his arm, and slightly raised one cheek.
"What's wrong? You can't calm down without me?"
"No."
Russell said without changing his expression. "As the representative of Imperial College's outstanding new students, I was just a little worried about whether I would end up being late."
"Hmm—?"
Mary said in a drawn-out tone. "You're really not used to it yet?"
"No."
Russell said in a calm tone.
"But I feel really uneasy when you're not here."
Mary blinked and put on a pitiful expression, with tears glistening in her eyes.
"Does that mean in Russell's eyes, I'm just a disposable side character?"
Hearing this, Russell was slightly surprised and looked down at the face pressed against his arm.
He knew she was acting, but even so, his heart skipped a beat.
"Is the acting enough already?"
Russell asked helplessly.
"The acting has nothing to do with it."
Mary blinked and deepened her pitiful expression. "Not until you admit that you feel uncomfortable."
"There are still people watching. Just let them watch."
"…"
"Admit it, or I won't get up."
"Russell——"
"Fine, fine, I admit it." Russell sighed in resignation. "I'm not used to you not being here, okay?"
The moment she heard this, the girl's eyes instantly lit up, as though stars were twinkling in her pupils.
She straightened her back and wore a satisfied smile on her lips. Then she took out her textbook from her bag and neatly arranged it on the table. Her movements were calm and graceful, as though the person who had been acting spoiled just moments ago was a completely different person from herself.
Russell looked at her and couldn't help but shake his head. Just as he was about to quietly lie down, he suddenly felt that something was off.
"You…"
He paused and leaned closer to Mary, sniffing.
Besides the familiar white-tea scent, there was also a sharp, chemical smell coming from Mary.
"Why does it smell like disinfectant?"
Russell furrowed his brows and looked at her.
Mary's hands paused for a moment, but she quickly returned to normal.
"Ah, that?" She smiled casually. "This morning, when I passed by the school infirmary, I went inside. That's when I picked it up."
"The school infirmary? Why would you go to the school infirmary?"
Mary said, "New medical equipment arrived at the school, so I was helping Teacher Sophie move it in."
As she spoke, she smiled at Russell and reached out to pinch his nose.
"If you sniff a girl's scent so openly, people will think you're a pervert."
The girl spoke while gently pinching his nose. The gesture was intimate and natural, like scolding a disobedient cat.
Russell felt ticklish from having his nose pinched and instinctively pulled back. Mary also withdrew her hand.
"You helped carry the luggage?"
Russell rubbed his nose while still looking at her. "You? Moving things?"
"Eh, is that not allowed?"
Mary tilted her head and spoke with a hint of dissatisfaction in her voice. "In your eyes, am I just a spoiled young lady who doesn't lift a finger?"
"No, that's not it."
Russell shook his head. "I was just a little surprised."
Mary smiled but didn't answer. She opened her textbook and lowered her gaze to the page. Sunlight streaming in from the window gently illuminated her long silver hair.
Everything seemed normal, but Russell still felt that something was off.
His gaze lingered on Mary for a while. The smell of disinfectant still seemed to linger in his nostrils.
"Was you really just helping carry luggage?"
He asked another question.
Hearing this, Mary raised her face and looked at him with blue eyes filled with a mix of innocence and confusion.
"What else would it be?"
She blinked. "Don't tell me you think I'd do something bad in the school infirmary?"
Russell said nothing and simply looked at her. Mary didn't flinch. She calmly met his gaze and even winked or acted cute.
A few seconds later, Russell looked away.
"Nothing."
He said, "It just smelled a bit strong."
"Then next time, I won't go to the school infirmary."
Mary smiled and reached out to gently stroke the back of his hand. "It's fine. Don't worry too much. The professor will be here soon."
She withdrew her hand and returned her gaze to her textbook.
Sunlight poured onto her profile, giving her delicate features a soft, warm glow.
Russell didn't ask anything more.
He sat deep in his chair, his gaze fixed on the blackboard, but his mind was elsewhere.
And he gave up on thinking, collapsing onto the table.
…
The morning classes passed peacefully.
When the bell rang, Mary packed up her things and turned to look at Russell.
"Let's go."
She extended her hand. That beautiful hand floated in the air, fingers slightly spread, as though waiting for something natural to fall into it.
Russell looked at that hand and smiled, then took it.
The moment their palms touched, Mary's fingers slipped between his and gripped tightly.
The two left the classroom, crossed the hallway, and descended the stairs under everyone's gazes.
Today the sun was shining brightly, and the entire campus was bright and warm.
Mary walked lightly and quickly beside him. Her skirt swayed gently in the sunlight, looking no different from usual.
It was once again the familiar empty classroom.
When the door closed, Mary happily threw herself into Russell's arms.
Russell instinctively caught her and helplessly stroked her head. He seemed to have gotten used to this level of intimate contact by now.
He lifted Mary and placed her firmly on the table, then sat down next to her.
"So, what did Mr. Morstan say to you after you got back yesterday?"
He asked.
Mary sat on the table, gently swinging her calves. Her long, slender legs wrapped in sheer black stockings drew alluring curves in the sunlight.
The toes of her boots lightly touched the table leg with each movement, making a soft "tap, tap" sound.
Russell sat in the chair next to Mary, but occasionally the corner of his eye caught a glimpse of her leg.
He stared at Mary's swinging leg for a while before quickly looking away and casually glancing out the window.
"He…" Mary said in a slow tone. "He was really angry with me."
"Hm?"
Russell raised one eyebrow. "He didn't do anything to you, right?"
"What could he possibly do to me?"
Mary smiled. "After all, I'm the face of the Morstan family."
She said, "He was a little angry, but he couldn't do anything to me. He could only say some meaningless things."
"What kind of meaningless things?"
"Things that nobles and the wealthy always talk about."
The girl spoke with visible disgust while counting on her fingers.
"'Know your place, don't forget the rules, don't bring shame to the Morstan family'—I'm already sick of hearing that."
"Is that all?"
Russell asked.
"What else could there be?"
Mary leaned forward to meet Russell's gaze. "Do you want him to fly into a rage and put me under house arrest?"
"I'm not saying that."
Russell took a bite of his sandwich and casually glanced out the window.
However, in the corner of his vision, that leg was still dangling.
Mary saw through his false composure and couldn't help but let a mischievous smile appear on her lips.
"Why aren't you saying anything?"
She leaned forward and said. "What are you thinking about?"
Warm breath gently brushed against Russell's cheek, carrying the familiar white-tea scent.
"I was thinking that if you keep swinging like that, your shoe might fall off."
"It doesn't matter if it falls off, right?" Mary continued swinging on the swing while speaking casually. "It's not like I'm the one falling."
She spoke as though it were a matter of course, as though she was certain someone would pick up her shoe and put it back on for her.
Even after hearing this, Russell didn't answer and simply continued eating his sandwich in silence.
"Thud."
A sound came from beside him, so Russell instinctively looked over. A leather boot had fallen from the air to the ground, leaving only a smooth leg wrapped in black stockings dangling.
The two met each other's gazes.
A faint amusement expression appeared on Mary's face.
"It fell."
She said.
"Yeah, it fell."
Russell nodded, put the sandwich in his mouth, chewed, but didn't take any further action.
"Russell——" Mary lifted her foot and lightly kicked his shoulder.
"Hm?"
"I want to get down."
She said in a coquettish tone.
Russell stopped chewing his sandwich and turned to look at Mary.
The girl was sitting on the table, supporting herself with both hands, slightly tilting her head as she looked at him. Her legs were still dangling.
The boots were gone. Her calves were now only wrapped in black stockings, swaying gently in the air. Her slender ankles and the curve of her instep were exposed. Beautiful.
The stockings glowed faintly under the sunlight, wrapping around her small feet. Her toes were slightly curled, as though waiting for something.
"You want to get down?"
Russell repeated her words.
"Mm."
Mary nodded and swung even more vigorously. "I want to get down."
"Can't you get down by yourself?"
"I can't get down."
Mary blinked and put on a completely innocent expression. "My stockings will get dirty."
"Stand on the chair."
"It'll still get dirty, and the boots are too far away."
Mary said.
"Then forget about it."
Russell said, "There's no need to rush. There's still time before class, so let's just sit for a while longer."
"..."
Mary paused for a moment, then pouted and shook Russell's shoulder with her hand.
"But I want to get down right now."
Russell sighed, then stepped forward and picked up the boot.
Mary stared at his movements and deepened her smile. She stopped swinging and extended her stocking-clad foot in front of him.
Seeing this, Russell raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure this is okay?"
"I can't reach it myself," Mary blinked innocently and made a gesture of reaching out, as though to prove that she really couldn't put on the boot in this situation.
"Pull your leg in a little."
"But then the table will get dirty. That's not good."
"… "
Russell said nothing. His eyes gradually became indifferent, and then he reached out and directly grabbed that slender ankle.
The warm palm pressed against the thin stocking, and he could clearly feel the temperature and delicate texture of the skin beneath.
"… "
The girl's body stiffened almost imperceptibly. The smile on her face froze for an instant.
"I… I think I can put it on myself…"
As Mary spoke, she instinctively tried to pull her foot back, but Russell held it firmly, making it impossible for her to escape without getting hurt.
"Russell… I changed my mind… I'll put it on myself…"
"The table will get dirty."
Russell said with a laugh. "I'll do it."
He said this while gently rubbing his thumb against her ankle. The movement was very light, but it felt like an electric current had run through him, instantly spreading throughout his entire body.
The girl's cheeks instantly turned red, and her heart began to pound violently.
"Stop it, stop making a fuss," she pleaded in a voice that trembled so much it was barely audible.
"This is a story you started, Mary."
Russell said quietly.
Mary's ankle was in his palm. It was so slender that it seemed as though it might break with the slightest touch.
The thin black stocking couldn't block the warmth of his palm at all. The heat seeped through the fabric like a small flame, burning from her ankle up to her calf and then to her cheeks.
Mary bit her lower lip. Her blue eyes now held only panic and embarrassment.
Her cheeks were burning hot.
Wait a minute, the script wasn't supposed to go like this…
Who adjusted it to be like this?
"I'm not making a fuss."
There was laughter in Russell's voice, but his hands didn't stop moving at all.
He lowered his head and gently cupped her small foot, covered only by a thin sock, in his palm.
The stocking was smooth and delicate to the touch. Through the semi-transparent black fabric, the outline of the white skin and rounded toes beneath could be faintly seen.
His thumb slid down from her ankle, gently tracing the elegant curve of her instep, and finally stopped at the top of her foot, where he pressed lightly.
"… "
Mary couldn't help but lean back. Her voice trembled faintly. It was a complex mixture of resistance and indescribable anticipation.
"Don't move."
Russell's voice came from below. It was calm, but Mary could sense unmistakable authority in it.
That was why she could no longer move.
However, a strange emotion welled up inside her.
This… doesn't seem like a bad idea.
...
PS: Read at least 60 advanced chapters at patreon.com/AbsoluteCode