I'm enjoying writing this fic too much
But have a soft chapter
Y/N's P.O.V.
It turns out, the great Sherlock Holmes is afraid of storms. And lucky me, London was due a dark and stormy night.
I wasn't particularly a fan of storms either, but Mary had warned me that Sherlock had a habit of getting restless and jumpy, she had also given me a couple of tips John had told her, on how to calm him down. Most of it was just sitting with him and keeping his mind occupied.
The only problem was, Sherlock hadn't come out of his room in hours, not since the incident with Donovan and the picture.
The first rumble of thunder made me jump, seconds before there was a bang from Sherlock's room.
"Sherlock?" I asked, knocking on his bedroom door.
"What?" Came his muffled reply just moments later.
"Can I come in?" I heard him moving around for a few moments, before he opened the door. As soon as he did, thunder and lightning crashed outside, the loud noise and bright flash catching me off guard. I squeezed my eyes shut, before Sherlock put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me into an awkward hug. Although, I had a feeling it was more for him than for me.
"Sorry, I'm just... not a fan of loud noises."
"It's fine." He cleared his throat.
"Do you want to stay in here with me?"
"Would you mind?" I asked and he shook his head, closing his bedroom door once again. In all the time I had lived in 221B, I had never seen Sherlock's bedroom and it was... extraordinarily ordinary.
He sat on his bed, before patting the space next to him and continuing to read his book. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, looking through social media to pass the time. Every time there was a rumble of thunder or a flash of lightning, Sherlock would tense up and let out a couple of shaky breaths.
"You okay?"
"Fine. Perfectly fine." He mumbled.
"Liar. You don't like storms either, do you?" I asked, playing dumb. He hesitantly shook his head and I smiled a little.
"It's okay to be scared of something, Sherlock. It's what makes us human. I'd be worried if you weren't scared of something." I reached up and moved one of the curls out of his face. He took my hand in his suddenly, looking at my knuckles.
"You actually punched Donovan?" I nodded my head.
"I thought John was just saying that to make me feel better."
"I'm pretty confident I broke her nose, but she had it coming." He laughed a little, nodding before there was a bright flash and his hold on my hand tightened slightly.
"I'll be back in a minute."
"What? Where are you going?" He asked, sounding slightly alarmed as I slipped off his bed.
"Y/N!" He whined as I left the room, going into the living room and picking up the violin.
"No." Sherlock said and I turned to find him in the kitchen, watching me.
"It might distract you?" I asked hopefully, but it didn't convince him.
"Please?" He sighed, moving forward and taking the instrument from me, causing me to smile. I sat in John's chair, frowning in confusion when I saw he had put the violin back down and was messing around with a CD player. Violin music played suddenly and I shook my head at the man.
"I wanted to hear you play."
"This is me playing." Sherlock replied, offering me his hand. I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. He adjusted his hold on my hand and put his free hand on my waist.
"I feel ridiculous." I sighed, putting my hand on his shoulder as there was another rumble of thunder. He pulled me a little closer, before pink dusted over his cheeks.
"You know how to dance, don't you?" He asked and I rolled my eyes.
"Of course I know how to dance." He stepped forward and I stepped back, both of us moving in sinc to the music.
"Who do you think taught Mary to dance for her bloody wedding? I'll give you a clue; it wasn't... uh... whatever the other bridesmaids were called."
"You never learned their names? You spent hours with them." He laughed.
"You cannot laugh at me. You don't even know Lestrade's first name. How long have you worked with him?" I shot back.
"Of course I know his name. It's... Gavin? No. Graham. Something like that." Sherlock shook his head as we continued to move around the room.
"Greg."
"That's exactly what I just said!" He argued, making me laugh.
"I've always loved dancing." Sherlock admitted, before breaking the rhythm of the dance to spin me around.
"You are something else, Sherlock Holmes." I shook my head and he stopped dancing, making me stop. We were stood right by the window, and I looked outside.
"The storm stopped." I turned to look at Sherlock, who was already looking at me.
He let go of both my hand and waist, both his hands cupping my cheeks as he leaned in for a kiss. As soon as his lips touched mine, I kissed him back and the only way I could describe it was like Christmas morning. As if the past few days had been leading up to that moment and it was perfect.
Sherlock broke the kiss after a few moments and I blinked a couple of times as my mind registered the information.
"That was... a thing that just happened."
"A good thing?" Sherlock asked carefully, unsure if he had made a wrong move.
"Yeah, Sherlock. It was a good thing."
