𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄 | 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑶𝑪𝑲 𝑯𝑶𝑳𝑴𝑬𝑺 [1]

two.

"you don't wanna hurt me, but see how deep the bullets lie."
Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush

"no, don't go in there. no." sherlock sighs, the drunkenness taking over him.

"enola, do not go in there!" i seethe from across the room.

she continues to walk into the study, making me groan loudly. i get up from my window seat and pick up a newly, passed out sherlock.

"come on." i mutter under my breath, dragging the man into his bedroom to give him a more comfortable space. i open up the covers and plop him down before covering him. "goodnight sherlock." i whisper into his ear.

i reenter the front room and walk into the study with enola.

"sherlock's latest case." she whispers under her breath. "fascinating."

she walks into the living room and gets on the sofa. i walk around hoping to find a guest room. when i didn't, i walked into sherlock's bedroom, writing him a note as to why i was in his bed, set it on his bedside, and crawled into the large bed.

~

i got up about thirty minutes after i noticed sherlock was not longer in the bedroom. i grab a robe and wrap it around myself before walking into the front room. i notice sherlock standing there in front of enola.

"and why, pray, have you moved everything." he asks quietly.

enola leans her head off the back of the chastise, taking a look at the floor. "nothing looks different to me." she says innocently.

"nothing looks different? ev- ohh." he grasps his head.

"you head is sore, i can't think why?" i laugh, taking my seat i had basically claimed the night prior.

"this is why i don't have people in my rooms. look at what you've done. my papers are entirely out of order." he sighs loudly.

"your case. it's vexing you. seems to be an awful lot of question marks on that board of yours." enola states, adjusting her neck accessory.

"dundee cake. door. i will see you again." sherlock shoves the plate into her chest before redirecting her toward the exit.

"is that why you were drinking?"

"i'm more than certain it's not.." he takes a sniff. "so old."

"maybe i can help." enola says proudly.

"you can help by leaving." he says quickly, redirecting her once again.

"huh. yes. the world would be a much safer place if we don't see the inside of sherlock holmes. only the out. crazy idea. have you ever considered a flatmate?" she puts her hands in the air.

"for what purpose. even if i did, i would ask constance first anyway."

"to stop you from decending into this!" she points all around the rooms.

"strange, how those seeking advice so often like to dispense it." he scoffs.

"did i ask for advice? i found you on the street, drunk. like a bewildered beast!" she exclaims.

they continue to bicker loudly when i notice a black hue on enola's fingers that was green the night before.

"enola, what is that on your hands." i ask from the other side of the room, walking over to yank her hands towards sherlock and i, who was standing beside me. "enola, why on earth are you working in a match factory?"

"what?"

"last night, they were dirty with green traces. this morning, they are black." i explain, showing her fingers.

"the phosphorus from the match making has mixed with the oxygen in the atmosphere. i wasn't in such a state to not notice that, even constance knew that." he points to before dropping her hands.

i walk up closer to her, standing behind her to get a better glimpse at the red marks around her neck.

"how did you two-" she gets cut off my sherlock and i at the same time.

"and your neck is red." we say in unison. "someone has gripped it or held a knife against.."

i walk back around to face enola. i cup my hands to her cheeks and sherlock walks up beside me.

"are you involved in something dangerous? because you are still my ward. if you need any help, my offer is still on the table. don't be so desperate to prove yourself, enola."

she scoffs loudly in sherlock's face. "i am not desperate. and i don't need you or anyone's help." she takes the dundee cake from the plate and walks to the door. "but this i will have."

"well that was."

"dramatic?"

"indeed it was."

(tewksbury's p.o.v)

i walk my normal path to the lords when i notice enola sitting on a bench, eating a dundee cake while talking to herself.

"enola?" i ask, walking up to the bench. "it is you."

"and it is you." she says, wiping the extra crumbs from her mouth.

"how are you? are you well? you look.."

"i'm on a case. undercover. forget i told you that piece of information." the girl states, looking down.

"you know, it is the strangest thing! i could have sworn i have seen you here before." i laugh.

"is that right?"

"well, this is my route, through to the lords."

"is it? how lovely! i breakfast here on occasion." she holds up her cake.

"well, um, yes it is a wonderful place. i know the gardener here." i remove my hat. "we've been discussing what to grow for next years crop. some fine sunflowers, sweet williams, they are lovely vivid reds."

"i've seen all you're doing." she smiles.

"oh. well, it's. it's nothing.

"in the society pages. you are quite the eligible bachelor."

"don't believe all you read." i sigh. "i wrote you. you didn't reply."

"umm, i was busy. starting my own business. a perpetual challenge. perhaps something you wouldn't understand."

"well. enola if you need help." i instantly regret even thinking the sentence.

"i do not. now if my problem were to become horticultural, i shall seek you out." she smiles.

"right we'll, you know where to find me, should a plant go missing. i hope you enjoy your breakfast." i lean towards the direction i was walking in.

"yeah." she says quietly.