|| Be Her Guard || Sherlock Holmes x Reader

|♢| Chapter 28 |♢| Talk To Me

There are dozens of people surrounding you in the beautiful old church made of mossy stone yet the most interesting subject you can find to stare at is your own hands which nervously fiddle with delicate lily petals or the long blades of grass lying beneath you.

Go be social...Those were the orders your aunt had given you before shooing you off even after you had so nicely helped her to her seat. She doesn't mean to sound rude with stern and distant simply being her leading qualities, after all, she's that typical elderly woman who's never had children of her own and spends her evenings sipping rosé; one shouldn't expect hugs and soft praises from her. Regardless, you find her words to be difficult to follow. You could barely socialize with people back home. How are you to socialize with people in a country you've only been in for less than three weeks?

That's why you've been hiding out in the church garden, your legs sprawled out on the grass as you either admire the flowers surrounding you or the cloudy blue sky above. Compared to inside, not many people are enjoying the 'warmish' summer weather. Aside from yourself, there's an elderly couple sitting on a bench across the garden and two families lively chatting not far from them. One of the families consists of two sons who are honestly the only other young people you've seen all day. Like yourself, they both appear extremely bored, too.

The oldest seems to be at least trying to behave, nodding along with whatever the adults say then rolling his eyes once they're not looking. The youngest, however, doesn't hide his frustration, crossing his arms and stomping his foot like a child whenever his mother nudges him and nods in your direction. You've long assumed that she's nodding at the doorway about five feet away from where you sit, possibility telling him to grab a drink or snack from inside. You don't blame him for not doing so. The water here tastes funny, and the snacks are stale.

Sighing through your nose, you sit up with crossed legs, plucking blades of grass and tying them together in as many knots as you can before a shadow falls over you. Raising your attention, your met with the dull blue eyes on the youngest teen who stares down at you with an upmost look of annoyance and anger.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes," he harshly spits the introduction as if someone's forcing him to be friendly. That guess might not be too far off really. You follow his eyes when he glances over his shoulder, spotting his mother smiling his way with pride. So, she's been trying to get him to talk to you, huh? Well, you don't blame him for not wanting to that either.

"(Y/n)...(Y/n) (L/n)," you nod to him quietly, nervously directing your eyes back down to your lap. You expect him to walk off, after all, his mother's turned around again so she must be satisfied with even a short interaction; there's no further need for him to continue yet he doesn't even flinch a muscle.

Feeling his strong gaze, you glance back up at him, your heart beginning to race. After a moment of unbearably awkward silence, you open your mouth, having mentally prepared yourself enough to ask him if he needs something, but that confidence is shattered when he speaks first in a monotone voice unlike any you've heard before.

"You're American, most likely from Washington or Oregon. You moved here to live with your aunt, but you're not happy nor comfortable with the situation. The only reason you're here is because her husband died and your parents figured they'd send you to keep her company since she has no other family here, not to mention you best match her personality, however, you don't feel very close to her. Having obvious social anxiety, you've taken to being on your own in an area of comfort which is the outdoor garden."

You blink when he finally finishes, taking a moment to process all the information he's thrown at you as if he read it all in the news this morning," h-how did you...?"

"Simple. You have a clear American accent, one belonging to a western state. I guessed Washington or Oregon because you aren't shivering despite the cold air and your lack of jacket or long sleeve shirt, meaning you're use to this type of weather. Comparing both factors, those two states seem to fit best.