The Post-it Predicament (a Sherlockxreader fan fiction)

Nine- Christopher

A/N: Yo reader-chan. So I really really really like easter eggs in stories. If you find the easter egg in this chapter, I'll be your best friend forever and ever and we can hang out and watch Netflix and eat Pocky, okay? 

Do any of you think Sherlock is acting out of character? I mean, he is supposed to a little bit, but do you see it as a problem? Please comment. 

But uh, we're almost at 300 reads!!! *I can't* Thank you all my lovelies :3

Sherlock's POV 

I, Sherlock Holmes, promised myself at a young age that I would never say the following words unless my life was on the line: 

1) I love you 

2) I'm sorry

and

3) I hate you 

All three points all showed signs of feeling. Things I was taught to block. Things I forced myself to leave behind. The hardest part for me was, I had already broken the first one. All because of (f/n) freaking (l/n). All because I wanted to say it to her. 

It didn't take much deduction to tell that she was angry at me. It also didn't take much deduction to know that I didn't want her to be. Other me wouldn't have cared. Other me would have been too hung up on a case to even care about a random homeless girl on the street who happened to know about me. But this me, did. 

She didn't speak much the next few days. Only "good morning" and sometimes "What are you doing?"

She just sat on the sofa and watched telly or read books. I payed attention sometimes to what she watched. A lot of cartoons. A LOT of cartoons. I thought they were childish but they seemed to make her happy so I didn't say anything about it. 

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I hated her being mad at me. It made me angry at everyone. Mostly at myself for being so stupid, but also at her for not getting over it. 

I flicked off the television, the boy with the white bear hat becoming mute at my single push of a button, and a girl becoming furious. 

"What was that for?" She said whipping around to face me. 

"Are you going to yell at me already, or am I going to have to endure another day of silence and animation." I said sitting down in my usual chair. 

She sat frazzled for a moment, "I have nothing to say to you." 

I got up and decided to sit next to her. "We both know that's not true." 

Silence. 

"As you already know," my voice shattering the uncomfort.  "I heard everything you said, (f/n)."

"Yes, I'm aware." She wouldn't look at me. No matter what contorting I did or where I moved, she diverted her gaze from mine. 

"Truth is," I sighed, refusing number 2 on the list to escape my lips."My whole life I've been alone-"

"Oh, save it Holmes! I really don't need to feel sorry for you." She stood up and began to walk away but I couldn't let her get away that easily. I grabbed her shoulders turning her a deep shade of crimson. 

"Please, let me explain myself."

"Buy me take-away?" 

"After."

She agreed and sat back down, me sitting next to her. She looked at me this time. Her beautiful (eye colour) eyes burning into mine. "As you were saying..."

"I was always alone. Never did I really feel companionship in school, besides one person, Christopher Maxwell, but we fought often as we grew older and he proceeded to tell everyone rumours about me and it was idiotic secondary school nonsense. After him, I never really trusted anyone outside my family again. Then, Mycroft and I had a falling out once I graduated from uni, for the same reasons we're fighting, actually. He thought he knew what was best for me, so did I. He made me go to rehab, I broke out of rehab. Since then we were never close again."