Convince Me

Trouble In Paradise

          Taking slow, careful steps towards the upstairs flat, you heard faint laughter. Who's laughing? You wondered as another spout of giggling piqued your interest. Drudging the flat key out of the barely worn pocket, you entered the flat confused. There was no one there. Well, almost no one. A tall, lanky shadow stood at the window, looming over their phone. You sighed as an airy moan alerted the two of you of a new text. From where you were standing, you could see his eyes light up at the new text. He hurriedly responded, and anxiously waited for another. Dropping the grocery bag you were carrying lower on your hand, you walked into the kitchen and laid the bag on the countertop. The kitchen was missing a couple of basic essentials: milk, seasoning, eggs, and so on. 

          "Hello, Sherlock. How's your day been?" You inquired as you got rid of expired eggs. Silence. You looked up expecting him to be looking at you. Normally it would be a solemn expression, but recently if you interrupted his texting time with ‘The Woman’, you'd receive a glare. Except, he wasn't looking at you. Instead, he shook his head and strolled back to his room. Hearing the door shut and the lock click, you huffed. You weren't entirely sure whether you did something to upset him all of a sudden, or he was simply losing interest in you. Deciding not to dwell on it, you finished putting away the groceries. While searching for a place to put the new teabags, your phone received a text. Picking up your phone, you scanned the new messages that read: There will be a car at 221B in four minutes. Don't be late. - M.H. You rolled your eyes. 

  "Maybe I had plans, Mr. Holmes." You hissed sarcastically, tossing the tea bags aside. You quietly walked back to your room. When you reached the door, you caught the whiff of marijuana. You paused and looked towards Sherlock's room. Slight vapor seeped from under his door, causing you to sigh shakily. You thought about storming in there, but since Mycroft gets impatient, you whipped out your phone and messaged John. The message read Hey, can you come over? Kind of hitting a wall with Sherlock when it comes to conversation. - Y/I. You placed the phone on the dresser and went to grab your jacket. Turning back to get your phone, you caught the glimpse of a piece of paper. Leaving a note would be good. Taking off the first sheet, you quickly wrote 'Sorry, I had to go back out. I’ll be back in a bit. Everything is stocked back up. - Y/I.’ You grabbed a second sheet and wrote out a summary of what happened so far with Sherlock. You placed the second piece of paper on your bed and quietly shut your door.     

         Gently walking back to the kitchen, you placed the note on the countertop and messaged John again: I've left two notes, but the second one is only for you. It's lying on my bed. - Y/I. As the message sent, you turned it off completely and shoved it into your purse. You would've elaborated, but you were anxious about being late. Locking the door, you started to descend down the stairs. You started to think, but a very loud, creaky step decided to make itself known.      

        "Shit" You whispered. "Thanks for alerting everyone of my presence." Quickly moving down to outside, you heard a creak from the apartment. What's he doing?  You thought, completely forgetting that the stairs decided to rat you out. Swiftly, you opened the building's door and slipped out just as the car pulled up. Straightening yourself out, you walked over to the car and got into the back. The car pulled away from the curb as you noticed there was no one else in the car. Strange. That one woman is normally always here. I wonder what happened. You thought as you glanced out the window. The farther away from the flat you got, the more knotted your stomach got. What if he does something while I'm gone? Marijuana is always his first step. Nervously biting your lip, you worried more until the car pulled into an abandoned lot of a run-down building. Taking a deep breath, you opened the car’s door and walked over to the door. It looked about five and a half feet tall and had rusted almost all the way off its hinges. Carefully, you opened the door up. Two chairs sat in the middle of the dimly lit area.