Crimson (Vamplock Fanfic)

Chapter 2

Skipping ahead a couple of weeks...

Since I met the so called enstranged Sherlock Holmes, I have moved in to his flat and have personally observed why he referred to as strange.

Though it doesn't deter me much of what he has been called but more of what he is.

The usual rants of solving cases to playing the violin til it's nearly sunrise,

It has made me fall in love with him even more.

I've never been considered gay, more or less identifying as bisexual than anything else, but God! I would definitely turn gay for him.

His perfected cupid bowed lips that slightly turned upwards into a smirk whenever he felt he discovered something new in a pulse racing case, his milky white skin rippling with every move he made with his increasingly skinny body, and his eyes. His eyes! What could have been said about those eyes that couldn't be nothing but good. They seemed to glow a different color everytime or wherever we were when the lighting changed. One minute they were a deep ocean blue and the next they were a bright gold color with crimson around the pupil. His eyes never stopped moving, flicking back and forth from one thing to another and never resting for a moment.

In every way, he was perfect in the most imperfect ways.

"John? John!" I was roughly snapped out of my daze. I looked up to see Sherlock standing over me, his lean figure barely fitting into his purple shirt.

"Yeah, umm, what is it?" I asked, getting easily distracted by his pale body standing over me.

"I asked you if you are hungry." He repeated his intended question, his eyes glowing a subtle crimson around the pupil again. I smirked.

"Uh, yeah I guess-"

"Good, meet me downstairs, we are going to Angelo's." In the blink of an eye, he flipped his jacket onto his shoulders, slipped his arms into the sleeves, and swiftly left the flat.

I sighed as I got up and grabbed my cane and headed downstairs, my jacket under my arm.

I opened the door to see Sherlock standing at the curb, a cigarette sitting peacefully between his fingers as he blew a quiet puff of smoke from his lips. I shook my head as I pulled the door closed behind me and he shrugged his shoulders.

"What?" He asked. I gave him a look of 'are you serious?'.

"I thought you said you would give up smoking?"

"And I thought you said you would give up that cane?" Sherlock quickly retorted back. I smirked as I put my hands up in surrender and tossed the cane back inside the door of the building while at the same time he dropped the cigarette and stomped it out with his heel.

"There, see? All better. Now, are you hungry or not?" He asked again as I nodded my head. With that, he hailed a cab as we quickly got in and headed down the street to the address Sherlock gave the driver.

It was within a matter of a single minute that we both fixed each other knowing so little.

"You still limp." The detective broke the eerie silence in the cab as we continued down the road to the restaurant.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, clearly asking for clarification.

"You heard me." He rudely answered back, keeping his eyes to the window as he watched the world pass him, deducing every piece he could before it passed us for good.

"I guess it's just a reflex." I answered back. Sherlock scoffed.

"A psychosomatic limp that's a reflex? Hardly heard of. But if that is what you want to believe, then by all means, continue the lie that you feed yourself day in and day out." His eyes flashed another color I've never seen before; a dark green. But it wasn't just a green, it was evergreen tree or even thick moss green. It was a color I've never encountered in his eyes. But as soon it came, it was gone and his eyes returned to their natural color of a deep cerulean blue that looked like galaxies all their own as they seemed to stretch on for miles filled with quick thought and worry of whatever was to come.

There was definitely something different about this fellow Sherlock Holmes.