Love never dies | Sherlock Holmes

Chapter XII ~ The road to eternity

   Throughout class, I was distracted by the thought of Sherlock's visit. I set out to prepare a dinner in which I would invest all my talent in the kitchen, much less than I would have preferred to have. 

   I was taught to depend on servants willing to prepare any dish I asked for, anytime and without delay, and when I began my safe living, the new life I longed for, the impact of the habits of the nobility caused me a slow journey into the secrets of cooking. 

   I know basic things like boiling some potatoes or roasting meat, but I can't manage to make dishes with trimmings. 

   What I really enjoyed, however, was the chicken with vegetables. Coincidentally and completely auspiciously, I had bought chicken from the London market the other day. 

   When I first stepped on the threshold of the house, I hastened to change my clothes and darted to the kitchen, where I spun among the furniture and utensils like the first ballerinas in the fluctuating movements of the Dance of the Swans. 

   It was a little over an hour when the food was ready to be served, and, unaware of when Sherlock would knock on the door so dissonantly and characteristically that I'd know it was him without much thought, I arranged my dress of the house and began to walk idly through the rooms, closing the windows and checking the peephole, just in case. 

   The chaste sound penetrated my ears like a song that once you play, you long to hear forever, and before I knew it, I was making my way to the entrance with excitement seeping through my veins. 

   Then I saw his bright smile adorning his beautiful face and shared his mood without knowing the clear reason for his joy. 

   -Why are you smiling like that? I ask him, stepping aside to allow him to enter the house. 

   -It seems like a special day to me, he replied, his good mood showing in his playful tone. 

   Sherlock spins so we're facing each other, then I feel his arms wrap around my waist and pull me close, making me rest my palms on his massive chest. I blush at his sudden gesture, and, overwhelmed by his penetrating gaze, I sink my head into his shoulder, simulating the voluntary display of affection. Although his detective instincts seem to pick up on the pretense, he says nothing but kisses my on head. 

   It will take some time before we get used to each other completely again, but I am happy to walk this path with him, to learn our habits, new beliefs and thoughts, to unite through sincerity and weld our bond with trust.

   I lifted my forehead and looked into his eyes, drowning in the bright blue abyss and sparks of consuming emotion. 

   -And I'm very glad to see you, Sherlock completes, then kisses me in passing, but warm and affectionate. 

   I break away from him when I notice the darkness in the hall window, then lead him into the living room, where I motion him to the table I've set. 

   -I'll bring dinner, tell me about Enola in the meantime. Did she came? I urge. 

   I notice a note of astonishment on his face. I don't think he expected a dinner, but masking any unwanted emotion, which I promise to change when he's exclusively in my company, he follows my instructions. 

   -At first I thought that she didn't even see my message in the newspaper, I hear it while I was heading to the kitchen. 

   Consciously, he pauses while I'm gone, apparently wanting me to hear his every word. I know from our past together that he doesn't like not being fully listened to, so I comply and rush to the dining room with the food on the plates