221B Baker Street.
When Russell pushed open the door, Mrs. Hudson was busy in the kitchen.
Hearing the sound, she poked her head out.
"Russell, you're home later than usual today."
She said.
"Yeah… the tram was delayed."
Russell lied without changing his expression.
"But isn't dinner a bit late too?"
"I wanted to do it earlier at first, but when I saw Charlotte was still asleep, I thought it might be better to delay it a little."
Mrs. Hudson said.
"Perfect timing. Come on in. Go wake her up. It's almost time to eat."
"Got it."
Russell nodded, stood up, and headed toward the stairs.
He walked to the door of Charlotte's bedroom, pushed it open, passed through the living room, and entered the bedroom.
"Wonderful detective, it's time to wake up and have dinner——"
Russell's words suddenly stopped.
The bedroom was completely empty.
Where is she?
Russell stood in front of Charlotte's bedroom door, momentarily stunned.
The room was very quiet. The curtains were drawn, the light was dim, and the bed was empty.
Hadn't Mrs. Hudson said she was sleeping?
Russell furrowed his brows slightly.
He turned around, left Charlotte's room, and was about to ask Mrs. Hudson why when——
Suddenly, Russell's gaze fell on his own door.
For no reason, a thought that even he found somewhat amusing suddenly surfaced in his mind.
"Probably not, right?"
He muttered to himself in a doubtful tone and grasped the doorknob, gently turning it.
The door opened, and Russell entered his own room.
The living room was clean and spotless, with no sign that anyone had been there.
Russell instinctively lowered his footsteps and headed toward the bedroom.
The bedroom door was slightly ajar, with only a crack visible, through which a faint light seeped in——the last rays of the sunset.
Russell stood at the doorway, quietly gazing at the afterglow.
He must have closed the bedroom door before leaving the house.
Therefore, there was only one thing the current situation could prove.
He took a deep breath and gently pushed the door open.
As expected, someone was lying on his bed.
To be precise, her posture wasn't lying flat as she was now, but curled up.
Her sleeping posture had always been bad.
Charlotte was curled up in his blanket, with only half her face and her messy curly-haired head visible.
Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was light, steady, and long.
Just by looking, one could tell this was a rare and wonderful sleep.
Russell stood at the doorway, staring at the scene, momentarily unsure how to react.
Mrs. Hudson had been right——Charlotte had been sleeping all day.
But she hadn't said Charlotte was sleeping in his room all day.
Russell instinctively opened his mouth, wanting to wake her.
But the words were on the tip of his tongue, and he swallowed them back.
Charlotte was sleeping soundly.
More peacefully than ever before.
The crease between her brows had relaxed, her usually tightly pressed lips were slightly parted, and there was even a faint smile on her face, as though she were having a sweet dream.
Russell leaned against the doorframe, quietly gazing at her sleeping face.
He watched for a long time——or perhaps not that long.
Either way, he quietly let out a sigh, turned around, and left the bedroom.
Russell walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa.
After sitting for two seconds, he stood up again, walked to the balcony, and tidied up the coat that had just finished drying.
Then he returned to the sofa.
After sitting for another two seconds or so, he stood up once more, went to the kitchen, poured himself some water, took a sip, and set it down again.
Then he returned to the sofa.
He didn't know what he was doing, nor what he should be doing right now.
It wasn't until the fragrant aroma drifted up from downstairs that sounds finally came from the bedroom.
Russell instinctively glanced sideways.
The bedroom door had opened.
Charlotte stood at the doorway. Her hair was even messier than before, her eyes were half-closed, and she had the same confused expression she always had right after waking up.
Seeing Russell sitting in the living room, she was momentarily stunned.
Russell was also surprised.
The two stared at each other for two seconds.
And then Charlotte looked down at her own clothes——the sweater.
She looked up again——at the room.
She looked down again at the bed she had just been lying on——his bed.
The girl's expression instantly transformed into something incredibly rich.
A blush like the red of the evening sky burned from her neck all the way to her ears.
"…"
Charlotte opened her mouth to explain something, but she didn't know how to explain.
Saying "I came to your room to look for evidence, saw that your bed was comfortable, and just slept here" wouldn't work, right?
"That..."
While Charlotte was brainstorming, Russell's voice quietly came from the side.
"Did you sleep well?"
He wasn't accusing or questioning her. He was simply asking about the quality of her sleep.
It gave the impression of a hotel front desk conducting a service quality survey for a guest.
Charlotte's face turned even redder.
"...…Not bad."
Her voice was very soft, as thin as a mosquito's.
"That's good."
Russell nodded, glanced outside the door, and then stood up.
"Let's go. It's time for dinner."
"….."
Charlotte followed behind Russell and left the room without saying a word.
She lowered her head, gripping the hem of her gray sweater, feeling her cheeks burn as though they were on fire.
This was probably the most awkward and embarrassing experience of Charlotte Holmes's life.
If word got out that she had secretly slept in someone else's bed and slept so soundly, her career as a detective would be over.
By the way, there was a loud noise too…
It seemed there was nothing she could hide.
Charlotte lowered her head even more.
She couldn't even bring herself to look up at Russell's back. She could only lower her head and watch his heels step by step as she walked forward.
The two headed downstairs to the dining room one after another.
By this time, Mrs. Hudson had already set dinner on the table. Seeing the two coming down, a gentle smile appeared on her face.
"You're up, Charlotte."
She spoke with a smile, her tone carrying the concerned air of an elder, as though she had no idea what had happened upstairs.
"Did you sleep well? I think you slept really well today."
"Not bad..."
Charlotte's voice remained low. She pulled out a chair and sat down at the dining table, never once raising her face the entire time.
Russell sat across from her.
Dinner was roast chicken and mashed potatoes, with an enticing aroma, but Charlotte had almost no appetite.
She simply used the fork in her hand to repeatedly poke at the food on her plate, looking completely indifferent.
From time to time, the girl would quickly glance up at Russell sitting across from her, only to immediately look away again.
Russell ate at his usual leisurely pace, occasionally chatting a little with Mrs. Hudson or glancing at her.
Their gazes always managed to perfectly avoid each other, and throughout the process, their eyes almost never met.
Charlotte suddenly felt an indescribable emotion.
Should she feel relieved that he hadn't asked, or should she care that he hadn't?
She didn't know.
Mrs. Hudson also seemed to sense the subtle atmosphere. She first glanced at Charlotte, who was silently lowering her head, then at Russell, who maintained a calm expression with a meaningful smile in his eyes.
The elderly woman didn't ask any further questions. She poured two bowls of hot soup and found an excuse to leave the dining room, leaving the young pair alone.
After Mrs. Hudson left, the atmosphere in the dining room seemed to relax a little, but for some reason, it also didn't.
Without her, there was no longer any need to maintain composure between the two, but without her, there was also no one to start a conversation to break the silence.
In the end, Russell took a deep breath and broke the awkward atmosphere with as natural a tone as possible.
"No appetite?"
He asked.
Hearing this, Charlotte paused while poking at her potatoes.
"Not really..." she answered gloomily.
"This is the third time, Charlotte. You said you were fine.
Russell sighed and pushed the still-steaming bowl of soup toward her.
"Have some soup."
"...Yeah."
Charlotte picked up the soup bowl and sipped it little by little.
The warm, rich soup slid down her throat, giving her nearly empty stomach a slight sense of satisfaction.
"That..."
She set down the soup bowl and gathered her courage to look up at Russell.
"How was school today? Did anything interesting happen?"
…