This time, Russell did not trouble Mycroft again.
After skimming through the two files he had received from Lestrade, he went straight to him, dug up every scandal he could find about the Professor, and then headed to Fleet Street to begin distributing free giveaways.
The very next day, the name Moriarty once again graced the front pages of various newspapers.
Charlotte silently stared at the morning paper in her hands, then turned her gaze toward the person busy in the kitchen.
Russell casually scooped a fried egg from the pan, placed it on toast, and topped it with crispy bacon.
"Did you sleep well?"
Charlotte asked. It was the first time she had returned this question to Russell.
"It's fine," Russell said while taking a bite of his sandwich. His expression showed that nothing was wrong.
"At worst, I was a little confused, but it won't affect anything."
Hearing this, Charlotte looked away. The newspaper article made no mention of the matter.
Similarly, neither of them brought up what had happened the previous night.
After breakfast, Russell left Baker Street. Charlotte flipped through the newspaper for a while longer before standing up and returning to her room.
When Russell arrived at the lecture hall at Imperial College, everyone's gazes once again turned toward him.
To be honest, after experiencing this for three consecutive days, he had almost gotten used to it.
Even if he hadn't gotten used to it, it didn't matter. After all, nothing could be changed.
If nothing could be changed, then he might as well let it be.
There's a saying for situations like this…
If others suspect you're armed, it's better to actually possess nuclear weapons.
The same applied to him.
If the people around him suspected he had an ambiguous relationship with the daughter of the Morstan family, then it would be better if he actually did have an ambiguous relationship with her.
Otherwise, wouldn't all those contemptuous and envious gazes have been wasted?
This time, Russell didn't even enter through the back door. Instead, he boldly walked in through the front entrance, and under everyone's gazes, made his way to the very back row and sat down next to Mary.
Mary was already seated, resting her chin on both hands, and greeted him with a gentle smile.
That smile was special—something no one had seen before. It was the kind of smile a girl only showed when meeting someone she truly respected from the bottom of her heart.
He took his seat amid the envious and jealous gazes of the crowd. The students watched as Mary leaned closer to Russell's seat, as though she wanted to nestle against him.
Many who witnessed this scene felt as though their teeth were about to shatter from grinding them.
"Good morning."
There was a clear hint of laughter in Mary's voice. Her blue eyes sparkled like spring water.
"Morning."
Russell set down his backpack and quietly sat down under everyone's stares.
At that moment, he noticed that what was on Mary's desk today wasn't a poetry collection, but the morning newspaper.
"Hm? This?"
The girl noticed Russell's gaze, smiled, slid the newspaper between them, and pointed at the headline.
"Look, Moriarty disappeared for so long, and now he's out and about again."
"Mm."
Russell didn't show any particular reaction and simply replied concisely, "Maybe he finally finished his work and had some free time."
"Hmm..."
Mary observed Russell's reaction, trying to read something from his expressionless face, but unfortunately, she found nothing.
Well, let him be happy. At least it proves he hasn't forgotten his roots.
The girl looked away and neatly set the newspaper aside.
When the morning classes ended, she couldn't wait any longer and turned toward Russell, gently tugging at his sleeve.
Seeing this, Russell couldn't help but turn around. He saw two small, white hands extended toward him, as though waiting for something.
His gaze lingered on the outstretched hands for a moment before returning to the girl's eyes.
Those eyes shone like stars. She looked just like a child eagerly waiting for her daily candy.
The moment he saw her like that, he suddenly felt like teasing her for some reason.
Humans are like that. They always have an inexplicable urge to destroy things that are beautiful and lovely.
Something even more captivating than a beautiful woman is a beautiful woman with tears in her eyes.
So Russell pretended not to understand and tilted his head.
"What's wrong?"
Hearing this, Mary blinked. Her hands remained suspended in mid-air, her white fingers slightly spread, as though waiting for something natural to fall into them.
She looked at Russell's face. Confusion and curiosity were mixed together on it. For an instant, the expectant expression on her own face froze.
But Mary quickly realized that this person was doing it on purpose.
She simply stared at him. She neither withdrew nor lowered her hands; they remained suspended in the air.
She said nothing and simply looked at Russell with slightly indignant eyes, as though she might burst into tears at any moment.
Seeing this scene, Russell felt a chill run down his spine.
"Cough…"
In the end, he couldn't withstand the pressure and moral restraint brought by that gaze and was the first to yield.
"You're scary."
Russell said this and grabbed the hand that had been dangling in the air.
The moment their palms touched, a smile returned to Mary's face. It was a somewhat mischievous smile.
Her fingers slipped between his, intertwining, and gripped tightly, as though in retaliation for his earlier indifference.
"Let's go."
Mary stood up from her seat, took his hand, and led him through the students who hadn't yet left the classroom, guiding him to an empty classroom.
Along the way, those gazes clung to Russell's back like shadows or invisible nails, continuing to pursue him.
If gazes could kill, he would have met an even more terrifying fate than being slowly carved to death.
However, the girl walking beside him seemed completely unaware of the situation. In fact, she even seemed to be enjoying it.
It was as though a king was announcing the birth of his queen to his subjects, telling them to remember her face and respect her just as they respected him.
The only difference was that the queen was Russell and the king was Mary.
And under everyone's gazes, the two of them returned step by step to the king's bedroom—that is, the empty classroom.
When the classroom door closed, the unpleasant feeling of being stared at finally disappeared.
Mary released his hand at the perfect moment, took a step forward, and spun around gracefully like a ballerina to face Russell directly.
Her long, slender legs stepped forward. Her skirt fluttered. The girl crashed into the boy's arms like scattered flowers dancing in the wind.
The gesture carried obvious intimacy. She pressed her body against his chest and listened to his heartbeat, which had quickened slightly.
Mary closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
The movement was very subtle—only her nose twitched slightly and her chest rose and fell a little.
It seemed like an unconscious act. While hugging the person she liked, she surrendered herself to his scent.
And then she froze.
That familiar, comforting scent was still there.
But beyond that, there seemed to be something else—another kind of aura.
It was such a subtle change that if they hadn't been so close, if she hadn't buried her face against his chest and taken a deep breath, she wouldn't have noticed it at all.
It was a bitter coffee scent mixed with the musty smell of books and paper, along with a faint trace of chemical reagents.
It wasn't her scent.
This smell didn't belong in this empty classroom.
It didn't belong to them.
It was the scent of Charlotte Holmes.
Mary's body stiffened slightly for an instant.
This discovery made her heart, already pounding from the intimate contact, beat even faster than usual.
Her face felt as though it were burning. Not just her face—her entire body felt burning hot.
Mary was certain that if she could see herself from a third-person perspective right now, her skin would be bright red.
Why?
Why did he smell like that woman?
And it was so vivid, so intense, as though he had been in that environment for a long time—so much so that the scent had seeped into every fiber of his existence and every thread of his clothes.
This discovery made her uneasy. More uneasy than when she had heard that Charlotte had found further clues about the Professor.
This meant something. It was something she absolutely didn't want to see.
Charlotte Holmes.
That woman had now become her enemy.
Mary desperately wanted to know what had happened the previous night.
But let's dig deeper here. That doesn't matter right now. What's important is that she has to hurry.
Thinking this, a dark light appeared in the girl's eyes.
She released her arms from Russell's waist and instead took both of his hands, which had been hanging at his sides.
Their fingers were still intertwined.
Her long, slender calves stepped back slightly, as though preparing to take some action.
At the same time, she lifted Russell's tightly clasped hands. Following her movement, his arms were raised into the air.
"Mary?"
He was somewhat confused about the current situation.
He didn't try to escape. He simply showed a trace of confusion in his eyes and continued to accept the girl's actions as they were.
The two of them were posed as though they were about to begin a duet.
Dancing as a couple in an empty classroom in the afternoon… what kind of flirting was this?
The girl didn't answer. In response to Russell's confused gaze, she simply smiled and then began to move.
It was a masterful transition.
It was exactly the same as the starting position for the most common waltz at a ball.
Mary leaned back slightly, like a white bird about to spread its wings.
Her hands were still held in his, urging him to take a step. Her skirt gently lifted in the air.
She lightly touched the ground with her toes, spun gracefully, and her skirt fluttered like a blooming white camellia.
Guided by her, Russell unconsciously matched her rhythm and took one step, then two, then three.
It was like dancing.
In the empty classroom, under the afternoon sunlight, the two of them spun and bounced.
Guided by her, his body traced smooth arcs through the empty classroom.
The sunlight outside the window was a spotlight illuminating them. The dust particles dancing in the air were like golden sequins floating on a stage.
Russell's body was pulled along. In his vision, the girl's long silver hair swirled and danced, tracing elegant arcs like flowers blooming under moonlight.
For a moment, he was stunned. The sensation reminded him of the ice-breaking party several months ago.
They had once held each other's hands and danced gracefully on the dance floor.
He looked at her. Her face swayed between light and shadow, and the unmistakable possessiveness in her eyes.
The spinning stopped.
Due to inertia, Russell's body leaned back slightly.
Mary didn't let go of his hands.
She took a step forward and, with almost oppressive force, pushed him into the chair in front of the empty desk behind his back.
Thud!
Russell's back hit the cold chair back with a dull sound.
He was sitting. She was standing.
Mary stood in front of him. Her hands were still clasped, but the gesture had changed into something with a more dominant air than before.
When she leaned forward slightly, that incomparably beautiful, doll-like face was instantly magnified in his vision.
Her silver hair cascaded down like a waterfall, brushing against his cheeks and shoulders, enveloping him in her unique scent.
"Mary?"
Russell opened his mouth again, but at that moment, Mary loosened her clasped hands.
Her hands slid from Russell's palms, touched his cheek, and extended toward the back of his head.
"I don't like your smell."
She said this, then wrapped her arms around his head and took a step forward.
With this one step, she came so close that she was almost touching his body. Her knees gently pressed against his legs. Her face was right in front of his, so close that their breaths mingled.
"So..."
"So I'm going to cover it up."
The girl said nothing more.
She extended her hands and, just like after school yesterday, wrapped her arms around Russell's head and gently pulled him close.
What's the easiest way to cover up a smell?
The solution is to envelop it with another scent.
Therefore, compared to someone's clingy, dependent hug that jumps into Russell's arms, this maternal hug was the best choice.
Mary gently cupped Russell's head with both hands, like a mother comforting a startled child or a girl asserting ownership over a beloved toy.
Russell's face was pressed against her uniform. The only scent he could smell was the white-tea fragrance that seemed to drift in from all directions. It was so strong that it was impossible to ignore.
Mary buried him in her arms, as though wanting to envelop him with her own scent.
"Mary…" Russell's muffled voice came from within her arms. There was an unavoidable helplessness in it.
"Hm?"
The girl's voice rang out from above, slightly languid and nasal.
"Are you trying to suffocate me?"
Hearing this, she let out a small laugh, but her arms remained around him. She adjusted the angle slightly so that Russell could poke his face out a little and breathe in fresh air.
"How's this?"
She looked down at him. There was a amuse glint in her eyes.
"Can you breathe now?"
Russell looked up at her. From this angle, the girl's face was enveloped in the soft light of the afternoon sun.
A strangely sacred atmosphere drifted about her.
Her pink lips curved into a mischievous smile.
"…I can now."
Russell sighed.
"That's good."
Mary nodded in satisfaction and pressed his head further against her chest.
"In that case, stay like this."
Russell gave up the fight.
Fine. Let's end this conversation here.
After all, this wasn't the first time. Countless people wanted this opportunity but lacked the means to achieve it.
He closed his eyes in resignation and surrendered himself to the field of white camellias. In his ears, he could hear the girl's slightly quickened heartbeat. At the tip of his nose, that familiar and comforting scent drifted.
He didn't know how much time had passed.
It lasted so long that Russell felt as though the back of his neck had almost dried out and his entire body was marinated.
Mary finally let go.
She took a step back, creating a little distance, and looked down at him.
Sunlight streaming from behind the girl outlined her figure with a soft golden edge, making her look like an angel descended to earth.
But Russell could sense a devilish cunning in those smiling blue eyes.
"Now," she said, taking a step forward and bringing her face close to his neck. She gently sniffed like a kitten.
That unpleasant smell had almost completely disappeared, replaced by the signature white-tea fragrance.
"..."
Mary closed her eyes and wore a satisfied smile.
That smile was like the afternoon sunlight collapsing and slowly filling your heart.
"It's much better now."
"What's so much better?"
Russell looked at her helplessly.
"I didn't expect that when you returned to Baker Street, Charlotte would do the same."
"If she does that, I'll do the same thing again."
Mary laughed.
"Let's see who gives up first."
She spoke very naturally and matter-of-factly, as though it were a given that Mary would act according to Russell's prediction.
Seeing her like that, Russell was momentarily at a loss for words and could only let out a helpless sigh.
"You…"
"Is there something wrong with me?"
Mary straightened her back, tilted her head, and asked the question as though she already knew the answer.
"It's fine."
Russell shook his head, then raised his hand and reached toward Mary's face. He gently tucked the strand of silver hair that had fallen behind her ear.
At that moment, his fingertips accidentally brushed against her slightly warm earlobe.
Mary's body stiffened. An obvious hint of panic appeared in her usually calm and composed eyes.
She unconsciously took a step back, widening the distance between them. The triumphant smile on her face faded slightly, replaced by a faint blush.
Seeing this, Russell couldn't help but laugh.
"What are you laughing at?"
Mary mustered her courage and glared at him.
"We're even now."
Russell said.
"…No, we're not."
The girl muttered something under her breath, turned her face away, and refused to look at him again.
During the short halftime break, Mary calmed herself down, pulled over a chair, and sat down next to Russell.
With the end of the semester approaching and the class schedule changed, several classes had already ended, giving them plenty of time.
Even when the lunch bell rang, the two of them no longer needed to rush back to class.
This was a wonderful thing for Mary.
It meant she could spend more time with Russell—not just sitting next to each other during class, but more intimate, private time outside of class.
She didn't have to worry about what the professor would think… That way, she could cast aside the dignity and elegance of Miss Morstan without caring about the surrounding gazes or any constraints.
If possible, she wished this brief moment could last forever.
But if this wish really came true, she thought she might regret it immediately.
The reason she cherished this moment so much and even wished it could last forever was precisely because it was fleeting.
Because it was short, it was all the more precious. The moment it began, the countdown to its end started.
It was like a terminally ill patient lying in bed.
On one hand, Mary felt as though she had become that terminally ill patient.
On the other hand, Russell was the luxurious and charming sunlight itself.
If only I had realized it sooner.
If we had noticed this earlier and taken action sooner, wouldn't the situation be different now?
"What are you thinking about?"
Russell's voice rang in her ears, pulling the girl back from her wandering thoughts to reality.
Mary raised her face. After meeting those black eyes filled with curiosity and concern, she quietly shook her head.
"Nothing."
She said quietly. "I was just overthinking."
"Possessed by some strange thoughts?"
"Yeah."
Mary nodded, looked out the window, and let out a melancholic sigh.
People feel the happiest when they are approaching happiness, but when happiness actually arrives, they begin to feel anxiety and fear.
"So right now, are you feeling very happy? Or are you feeling anxious and lacking confidence?"
Russell asked.
Hearing this, the girl turned around and smiled at him.
"Guess?"
"Probably…" Russell met her eyes and hesitated for a moment before saying, "Half and half."
Hearing this, the girl raised her eyebrows but neither denied nor confirmed it.
She gave a faint smile, then took a deep breath, as though about to announce something very important.
"This weekend."
Mary said.
"Hm?"
"Are you free this weekend?"
She looked at Russell. There was obvious expectation in her eyes.
"This weekend?"
Russell thought for a moment before saying, "I don't think I have any special plans."
There was still no word from Vanessa. Lestrade and Mycroft seemed quite busy recently. The only uncertain factor was Charlotte.
However, judging from Charlotte's current state, she didn't seem to have any new clues or ideas.
"No."
Russell repeated the same thing, as though confirming his previous answer.
"Shall we go to the Faidon Teahouse?"
He asked.
"No, we're not going to the Faidon Teahouse."
Mary lightly shook her head and lightly twirled her finger on the table, as though encouraging herself, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes out of embarrassment.
"Um… You seem busy this weekend, so why don't you come over to my place?"
"To your house?"
Russell was momentarily at a loss for words.
"Hmm…" Mary nodded. "You've never been to my house, have you?"
Russell thought about it and realized that he had actually been there once or twice, but never through the front entrance.
"To your place…" he said hesitantly. "Why?"
"Hmm…" She seemed puzzled by this question. Or perhaps she simply hadn't thought about what she could actually do.
After all, when a woman invites a man to her home, what else could she possibly do?
"It doesn't matter," Mary said in a slightly coquettish tone. "Just tell me whether you'll come or not."
"There's a possibility, but your father…" Russell looked at her. "Shouldn't you ask for your father's opinion?"
He wasn't objecting.
Mary answered directly on behalf of Arthur Morstan.
"Besides, he was the one who said earlier that it was fine to invite you home. There's no reason for him to object now, right?"
Hearing this, Russell shrugged. "When you put it that way, there's no reason to refuse, is there?"
He paused for a moment before adding, "Recently, I've been craving your chef's cookies."
Hearing this, Mary was slightly surprised, but she quickly understood what he meant.
"Don't worry," the girl said. A smile as radiant as a flower bloomed on her face.
"This time, I guarantee you'll get to taste the most delicious cookies."
So perfect that they'll captivate you with their deliciousness.