✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Not an ordinary night in the not-so-ordinary and boring world she got herself into.
Y/N found herself lying on the floor of a familiar room. She has seen it but on a TV series not in real life.
Two men were standing before her, giving...
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Sherlock and John looked at each other as if they were communicating telepathically. John sighed through his nose, raising his eyebrow, and gave Sherlock a look. Sherlock looks at you, still hanging your head low. He knew that you were telling the truth with no indication or any hint that you were lying. He pursed his lips tight and sighed quietly with his slightly parted lips. He nodded while still looking at Y/N. John gave him a firm nod when he saw Sherlock.
"It's getting late. We need to, uhm, we need to sort this out tomorrow." John looked at the time on his watch while the other scratched the back of his neck.
"So, er, where do you live?" John asked but you got confused as to why he asked that. As if the words you said just passed by on deaf ears.
"Didn't you hear a word she said, John?" Sherlock rolled his eyes in disbelief. John realized then he smiled apologetically.
"Oh yeah right, you're not from around here, so that means you don't have a shelter? Money? Anything? Just your phone...with you?" John concluded then you nodded raising your eyebrows in a matter of fact, which John took as a yes.
"Okay, uh, you can sleep in my room---" Before a kind John could ever finish his sentence by offering his room, you immediately cut him off.
"It's okay Martin, er, I mean Doctor Watson. I can sleep on the couch. I'm sure you had a long day, you need to get rest, it's late." You quickly said and smiled kindly to him, John was taken aback by the name but he slowly nodded.
"Uuh, o-okay, are you sure? Are you alright with the couch? I can really---"
"Yes, Doc. I'll be fine." You smiled for the second time and since you're persistent on going with the couch he couldn't do or force you on anything that you might be uncomfortable with so he bid his goodnight to the curly detective and you.
"Sherlock, be nice." He gave a pointed look to Sherlock before he walked upstairs.
You slammed your face into your palms in defeat, a long groan escaped through your throat. Feeling the pain of the headache that you've been enduring the entire time you have been with them.
"So..." A baritone voice interrupted your train of thought making you look up and see that Sherlock is now standing by the window looking down at the street. You thought that he was long gone after John left but you didn't know that he stayed.
"Still got a headache?" You were a bit surprised when he asked, and obviously, he noticed your expression earlier as you tried to hide the aching in your temples.
You massage the sides and ignore Sherlock for a moment to have thoughts to yourself. When Sherlock didn't get an answer from you, he turned around only to find your head was slightly bent down while your eyes were shut down.
