[CONTAINS SMUT!] ❗️18+❗️
~~~
Being the youngest Holmes was always quite the journey, especially when you didn't want to show off your talents, maybe even lack of such. Compared to your brothers you were always the 'dumb' one. The teachers saw it, yo...
Standing with a weary shake in your legs, pant legs now soaked from the melted snow under contact and pressure on your knees, there was nothing more you could do than breathe.
One... two... three... four...
You counted all the way up to 10 with each breath then back down to one to clam yourself. Hitching your last breath you let out a whimper at the memory.
"Hey, hey, Y/n, look at me," Jim tried to meet your gaze without touching you. "Y/n, listen to my voice, just close your eyes and listen,"
You did as told before crumpling into his arms which he accepted. Scrunching the lapels of his suit, he ran a hand down your back before combing your hair.
"That's it, good girl," he let you curl in his arms. "Breathe with me, we'll count to ten, one, breathe in, two, breathe out, then we count backwards, alright?"
You nod quickly, your hands trembling reaching to hold his.
Snapping your head away from the thought, the coat you held folded over your arms before you walked back inside. Each tear dried from the fabric of your sweater.
"Y/n, what happened?" John was the first to run to you, noticing the coat and stiff lipped look you held.
"Sherlock was right, he doesn't love me," tossing the coat to the ground, you walk up the stairs, each creak like a mocking insult of your idiocy.
"Told you," Sherlock scoffs. "You're just a game to him, we all are,"
"Thanks, Sherlock," you mumble dully, leaving their sight. Your older brother nods with a proud look, biting into his Yorkshire pudding.
~~~
Christmas morning had never been so heartbreaking. Expecting Jim to be by your side that morning, to be holding you tight and wishing you a Merry Christmas with morning kisses, you were met with an empty space.
Suddenly Christmas lost meaning.
Suddenly the magic was gone.
Trudging, each step was dull and bored. A smile plastered on when your parents greeted you with a hug from behind. "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, guys!" You sigh out with a fake happiness.
"Come on, present time!" John clapped his hands once down the stairs, the others trailing behind, Mycroft looking the most formal. They were all hopeful to take your mind off things.
You actually liked the presents you got: A few books, a new painting set and other things. The others were shocked when they found the gifts Moriarty had gotten them.
Mycroft was gifted a vintage limited edition 1870 umbrella. For John was a new laptop considering he complained once about his being slow. Mum got beautiful diamond earrings in a small fountain shaped jewellery holder. Dad got his Grand Prix model box.
Lastly, Sherlock and you picked up the presents for you. Undoing the twine, you unwrapped the paper, finding the small glass box and widening your eyes, taking off the card.
"Oh my," Mrs Holmes gasps.
Dearest Y/n,
My dear, my love, my life, I write this the day before we leave to your parent's house. Your head is buried in the pillows, I don't think I'll ever get over how cute you are while you sleep. This ring is not an engagement, but a promise, from me, and one I hope you'll keep as well... Molly said it's called a promise ring, and I promise you, I love you no matter what. You are my queen and a goddess in every sense.
I couldn't wish for anyone else but you.
I thought I should get you a diamond, ruby, emerald, but nothing could perfectly capture your value. Oddly enough just like those ridiculous fantasy romance novels, I found this vintage antique store, this man showed me a few but it was still not good enough.
He said no amount of money could cover how much this ring will mean to you. That I was truly in love. And I am, because for the past 10 months we have been together, no codes, no plans, no jewels or position in power could make me happier than you do.
Though proposing may be a little too early. I want to promise my commitment and hope for yours. On Christmas morning, when you open this, read this with me by your side, I can't wait to see that gorgeous smile.
All my love, Jim Moriarty, your idiot devil in Westwood xxx
Looking at the ring, it was beyond gorgeous and everything you could ever ask for, he was right, it wasn't worth much. To you, and the store clerk was right, it was worth more than anything the world could provide.
But then you realized. He wasn't here, by your side, to see you smile, to have you tackle him in a hug.
"I... I need a moment," you drop everything and wipe your dampened face, rushing into the icy outside.
Sherlock picked up the letter, muttering the words for everyone to hear. That coaxed him to open his present. It was a beautiful Violin case inside a box, stuffing stopping his deductions.
Laid in a velvet case was a Stradivarius Violin, vintage and the oldest of it's kind yet in perfect condition. Despite it's worth, there was a small detail making this ever more lovely.
Sherlock Holmes
Engraved cursively on the wood. Sherlock didn't stop there, he ripped open the letter instantly.
Sherlock,
I'll keep this short and meaningful. To the best of my ability at least...
When we met, I threatened to kill you, you contemplated to blow me up, a real comforting interaction! But despite this all, despite our hatred, which I'd happily let you carry on holding, if you continue to entertain me by throwing tantrums like a toddler, I want you to try and be civil around me as I will around you.
For Y/n's sake.
Because you're her brother, her big brother who she looks up to, admires so dearly, and loves endlessly. The very most we can do for her is not stress her out with our games. If it does come to a point where the games need to stop I will do it. Not for you but for her.
Kind regards, Jim Moriarty
Sherlock knew then and there, he needed to fix this.
~~~
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
