Sherlock Imagines

I love you, You love me not

Imagine: being in love with Sherlock (because that's so hard to do XD)

Sherlock Holmes. Hearing that name always sent shivers up and down your body. It hadn't always been that way. At first you hated his guts. Him and his stupid pompous, holier than thou attitude. That was before you got to know him and irrevocably fell in love.
But that's all it'd ever be, just a notion in your mind never to come true. Sherlock didn't show emotion alot. It hurt because you had become a close fixture in the detective's everyday life. You saw him everyday due to living just below Sherlock in 221 C but he could never know your true feelings for it would complicate things. You hid your feelings but to anyone other than Sherlock it was obvious you had fallen head over heels for the handsome and eccentric man.

You had woken up and headed up stairs to Sherlock's flat to make tea. As you entered his living room, you noticed how unusually festive it looked even though it was Christmas. Sherlock wasn't normally a festive person. You went into his kitchen and got a glance of his latest experiment, you didn't know what it was and you weren't going to mess with anything. You placed the kettle onto the stove and went back into the living room.

You saw his beloved violin setting propped in the corner. You picked up the violin and began to play the song Sherlock had been writing. You didn't have to look at the sheet music, you could play it by sound. You held it gently but firmly like a child and then the beautifully haunting music flowed throughout the flat. Sherlock, upon hearing the sound of a violin being played, left his room to see you playing.

He couldn't help but be dazzled by you as the sun hit you, shining off the natural (H/C) highlights in your hair and giving you a warm glow. He couldn't deny in that moment the beauty that was you. "I never knew you played. I should have been able to deduce that about you but you're very hard to read."
You stopped playing and opened your eyes as you had closed them as you became immersed in the music. "Ah sorry Sherlock. Did I wake you? Actually don't answer. The fact that you are dressed for the day leads me to believe you have been up for a while not to mention there is no glaze over your eyes one has when they've just awakened but by your slouched posture you haven't had your morning tea. Good news for you, I have already put a kettle on and it should be done right. About. Now." To prove your deduction right as soon as you finished your sentence, the kettle began to scream.

Sherlock was slightly shocked at your correct deduction and couldn't help the feeling of pride that swept through his being. You left to go prepare some tea. Sherlock stood there before walking to his chair and taking a seat. You reentered with the two cups of tea.
"So what is with all the decorations? Mrs.Hudson finally convince you to get in the holiday spirit? It looks nice but is definitely not you."
"No I have decided this year to throw a party and invite all the special people in my life. You are invited and the party is tonight at eight."
"Okay. Do I need to bring anything?"
"No just yourself but I know you're going to bring something anyway.", if anyone else had said that, you would have taken slight offense, but it was Sherlock and you knew he meant well.

The day passed on and Sherlock paced and played his violin. At around six, you left to go wrap the presents you had already purchased, prepare some sugar cookies and get dressed. You had gotten a new teapot set with a flowery print you hand painted for Mrs.Hudson, for Lestrade you had made a mug with the caption 'Best Boss (but don't tell Sherlock)', for Molly you had gotten her a beautiful sky blue dress she's had her eye on, and for John you had knitted him a new jumper and got him a new updated first aid kit. Sherlock was a bit harder to shop for. He didn't have a want for materialistic items so you had to think long and hard.

And you knew the best present would have to be something personal. You noticed that recently ever since Moriarty had come back with the bombings and that one older lady had gotten killed, Sherlock had been different. Recently it seemed as if Sherlock began to have feelings or as he called them, Sentiments.