Constellations Strung With a Shooting Star | Sherliam

Chapter Eight

A hand flows through brunet hair, slowly circuiting through every light natural curl gracing it. Said brunet hair is slightly damp with sweat, some locks flat against the brunet's forehead. Those locks cover up only small fragments of adorning emerald eyes that nearly shone in this lighting as they blink open. They loom up to the owner of the hand softly running through brown locks. Green eyes meet dark blue ones, which gaze with so much focus that it's clear they're observing.

"... Al. I could read "little brother problems" in your eyes from miles away."

"Ah. If you're able to spot that, I take it you're also frequent with such problems, hm, Mycroft?"

Mycroft is silent for a moment, staring blankly. A low laugh then flows from his throat. "Hardly. The day Sherlock becomes a problem to me is the day he wins, and that is simply impossible." His tongue feels bitter mentioning his younger brother in this context of all places. But he knows he can read what Albert has been thinking of, and it's absolutely a familial problem of some sort.

The brunet laughs, shaking his head. He's thankful he was at least blessed with two brothers — by blood or not — that he shares good and deep relationships with. He simply could not imagine still living with a sibling he didn't like. But that's not a fair comparison to make; Sherlock is no original William.

Once Albert's laughter dies down, Holmes tilts his head just a bit. "Truly, Al. Would you like to talk to me about it? We have the rest of the night to ourselves," he hums, glancing out the only partially open window in the room. It irritates him that the two somehow missed that one curtain when trying to seclude the room and leave their business private, but if there was a consequence then it would have happened by now.

"I would. That would be relieving to some extent; unfortunately, I've yet to confront Louis about my worries and thoughts," the green eyed man smiles, sitting up some. There's a short pause, before he starts with a question instead. "Firstly, I would like to clear one suspicion. Is it possible that your younger brother was also born marked?"

He doesn't hesitate with the question at all; in fact, he's been longing to ask it since the train months ago. He's met up with Mycroft multiple times since, in this same way, and has never brought it up.

The other man's eyes only have a mere flash of confusion that doesn't even last a second, but Albert sees it. And he has to suppress a laugh, thoroughly enjoying even a split moment of any surprise from his soulmate and lover.

"He was." His response is short and straight to the point, little to no hesitation to be found in him as well. He looks at the other skeptically, silently inviting him to go on and explain why he wished to ask such a personal and truthfully invasive thing.

"Thank you," Albert nods, although he avoids and ignores Mycroft's explicit interest and asks another question. "May you please describe it, down to every last detail? You may trust my word when I say I have a good purpose for wishing to know."

There's another short pause, from Mycroft this time. He slowly closes his eyes, as he finally begins. "It's on his chest, and it's far different than ours. It naturally imitates that of a particular constellation. The Phoenix," he hums, his brows furrowed as he thinks back to its appearance. "It's a faded blue shade as well, and you'd be able to feel it if you ran your hand along it. It's nothing discreet like ours."

His eyes open again, and they gaze at Albert, waiting for a reply. The brunet isn't shocked, and his eyes don't show even a hint of surprise. He sucks in a small breath, nodding his head in understanding. It's immediately clear that a suspicion of his has been cleared, and Holmes' gaze grows even more intent.

"Then I was right," Albert hums, his eyes fully meeting the other man's. "William has the same exact thing, only on his back. And it is indeed the Phoenix. So I have no doubt in my mind that they are soulmates themselves."