Infinity of Your Love / Sherliam

13

Sherlock opened the door to his house, revealing a dark and seemingly empty space. As he entered, he looked around, carefully navigating the house to his room, trying his best not to break anything. Suddenly, someone turned on the lights. Sherlock turned his head and saw his older brother standing there.

"Look who decided to show up," the older man said, crossing his arms.

"Oh, Mycroft," Sherlock said, smiling but unsure of how to respond. He was exhausted and just wanted to fall asleep.

"And where have you been?"

"In the bathroom, if you must know."

"Why did you spend so long in there?"

"Nothing much, I simply didn't feel like engaging with people."

"Fair enough."

Sherlock was about to head to his room when Mycroft spoke again.

"Were you in there alone? It's hard to imagine you sitting in silence for so long."

Sherlock turned his head, at a loss for words.

"But, Sherly, don't let love blind you," Mycroft said, then walked off in a different direction.

Sherlock stood alone in the now truly empty room, pondering his brother's words. 'Don't let love blind you.' He was well aware that William occupied most of his thoughts. He couldn't think straight sometimes. He closed his eyes, relaxed his shoulders, took a deep breath, and finally fell asleep.

January 21st

"Sherlock," a blue-eyed man spoke up.

"What is it?" Sherlock replied, fully focusing on the present moment.

"Where did you disappear to yesterday?"

"Your mother's house, where else?" Sherlock replied sarcastically.

"No, I think he was actually with some girl the whole night," another man joined the conversation. All heads turned towards them, curious eyes fixated on Sherlock.

"Where were you?"

"Looks like little Sherlock got a girlfriend!"

"I do not have a girlfriend!" he frowned.

"Sure, sure..."

"I'm being serious!"

He might not have a girlfriend, but he had a boyfriend, though he couldn't reveal that.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned away, avoiding any further eye contact with them.

They continued to make jokes about him having a girlfriend, but he ignored them, and they gradually returned to their work.

Sherlock was lost in thought, frustrated that he couldn't openly admit his feelings for a guy, for William. He could shout it out if he wanted to, but he knew the consequences could be dire for both of them.

There was also Mycroft's comment. Did his brother know about his relationship? Probably not. He knew his brother was right – he often found himself distracted by thoughts of William, even when he should be working.

He couldn't help it.

"Sherlock! Come on!"

"Oh, sorry."

"You've been absent for the past few weeks," the blue-eyed man said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, sorry," though he wasn't really sorry.

"You're in love," the man stated before whistling playfully.

Sherlock sighed.

"So, who's the lucky lady?"

"Why should I tell you?" Sherlock said, already tired of the nonsense.

"Come on!"

"No."

"Tell me, I want to know who has captured your attention."

There was no girl, you fool.

"Or guy," he added with a laugh.

Sherlock's expression remained unchanged.

"I'm joking," he said, patting Sherlock's shoulder before adopting a serious tone. "Or am I?"

Sherlock's expression remained blank.

"I'm joking again, in case you couldn't tell."

At that point, Sherlock stood up, grabbed his coat, and William's scarf, then walked out.

"Hey, Sherlock, your shift isn't over yet," the blue-eyed man glanced at his watch. "You still have another 15 minutes."

"Too bad," Sherlock said as he slammed the door behind him.

If he continued working with these imbeciles, he'd turn gray well before his brother. He had to quit soon, or his sanity would pay the price.

January 25th

Sherlock couldn't believe it.

The month was nearly over.

He couldn't believe it had only been around two months since he first met William.

He pondered this as he walked to work. How he despised his workplace and the inept people he encountered every day. He would much rather spend his time with John or, of course, William. As he settled into his chair, he looked around for something interesting but was met with vacant expressions.

He turned his gaze to a man reading newspapers.

"Do you need something?" the man asked, looking up.

"Let me see the newspaper. I'm bored."

The man handed Sherlock the newspaper. He glanced through it, not reading until he found it: a report on a series of murders believed to be the work of the same killer.

His eyes lit up as he delved deeper into the article.

The crimes were committed far from London, so another police force was handling the case. He had to get involved in this case somehow. The man seemed to notice Sherlock's enthusiasm.

"That's not our case—"

Before the man could finish, Sherlock threw the newspaper at him and left. He was determined to solve that case and do what he pleased. Life was too short to waste in a place like that.

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okay, so i logged out of this acc and accidentally logged back in today. i edited this draft and i think i may continue writing, although the fic is so bad Jesus. i might rewrite it sometime but i think it is so lame. i will say it does have potential ig, and thank you to everyone who commented i was flabbergasted when i logged in i had like 300-something notifications. i think i will start fixing the old chapter, fixing the grammar and spelling, etc.