Lost Girl 🔍 (Sherlock x Reader) [EDITING]

Chapter 26: Tiny Dancer

This gif is just a reference as to what you and Sherlock look like while dancing. This is obviously not Sherlock and You XD.

Also, the song is the song in which you and Sherlock are dancing to. So it's nice to play it during the dancing scene.

Anyway, this is an original part with no Sherlock dialogue, I hope you enjoy!!

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Your POV

I threw my head in my hands and rocked back and forth on John's chair, tears dripping from my eyes. I couldn't get Moriarty out of my head. What he said, what he did, Richard Brooks. 

I racked my brain for answers, but I couldn't find it. The thread was 30 ft away from me, and I was glued to the ground. Forget a thread, think of it like food or water, you need it to survive. You're starving to death and someone put bread or steak in front of you, but it's too far away. They knew that you'd be too weak to even move, based on your current state. So they put it 30ft away from you. 

I knew it was there. I knew why it was there. I knew what purpose it served. I just didn't know how it got there, or what evil game the person putting it there was playing. Forget driving me mad. Doctor, doctor, I need my prescription. 

I covered my ears and screamed. Ms. Hudson wasn't home. John wasn't home. Sherlock wasn't home. There was no one to save me this time. And that's when I heard his voice. His sickening voice. "Daddy's got you... daddy's got you." I rose from my chair, making my head spin and my vision blur.

"Stop it." I uttered, but he kept going, kept saying it, kept taunting me. "Stop it! STOP IT NOW!" I screamed, grabbing the nearest tea cup and throwing it at nothing. I knew it was nothing, but all that I saw was Jim. I'm going insane.

I screamed more, throwing another teacup. This time it hit the wall, shattering against the smiley face that Sherlock had painted there. Daddy's got you. I grunted, my hands balling into fists as I threw myself onto the chair. I wouldn't get too attached to him if I were you. I started to hyperventilate. I'll burn you... My anger threatened to boil over as I took clumps of my hair in my hands and started to tug. I'll burn the heart out of you. 

"I SAID STOP IT!!" I screamed, picking up another tea cup and throwing it at the doorway. I saw Sherlock standing there, staring at me wide eyed. I cover my mouth as tears spill from my eyes, sobbing into my closed hand. 

"(Y/N)." Sherlock said, taking a step towards me. I backed away and he stopped, looking at me with hurt and confusion. "(Y/N), it's me. You didn't hurt me, it's okay. It's me." He takes another step towards me, then another, and pulls me into a hug. I placed my head on his shoulder, wiping the tears from my eyes.

"Sherlock... I'm sorry..."

"No, I should be the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have left you alone. I knew Moriarty would get inside of your head." He took me by the waist, I shuddered from the touch. "Are you okay?" He said, looking around at the broken tea cups around the floor.

"I'm sorry... I was going insane."

"Paranoia is a common effect when you run into your abusive ex who's coming back to torture the people you care about most."

"You're a real comfort." I said, burying my face into his chest. He backed away from me and turned toward the kitchen. I almost whimpered from the loss of contact, but he walked up to the MP3 player (wow super retro) and plugged in his phone. He ran his thumb along his phone until he found a song. 'Slow Dance' by Thomas Smith began playing.

I smiled when he started to slowly walk over to me. "May I have this dance?" He asked, his voice changed to his cello/jaguar voice and I was loving it. Every bad thought began to rush out of my body as I took his large hand. He smirked and pulled me close to him. He wrapped his arms around my waist as I wrap mine around his neck.

He swayed me in time with the music, and I couldn't stop looking down at my feet. I felt his warm hand lift my chin up so that I could look up at him. I was nervous that I'd step on his feet, but the way he was looking at me filled me with a certain confidence that I couldn't describe, he made me feel tingly, raised my self-esteem. 

He looked down at me and smiled, and I could feel my face could hot. He pressed his forehead against mine and sighed, making me blush even harder. I fiddled with the hair on the back of his neck, curling it around my fingers and stroking it. He groaned a little bit when I tugged on it. "Sorry." I said, nervously taking my hands back and placing my hands on his shoulders.

"It's alright. I have sensitive hair follicles." I threw my head back and laughed, even though I knew he was being serious. He gently chuckled with me as the music changed it's key. I brung my head back into his chest, and he sighed again. I couldn't blame him, this moment was complete bliss to me.

"It's the small things in life." I said, more breathlessly than I intended, bringing my hands back to his neck.

"Indeed." He agreed, moving his hand to my shoulder and gently placing the other hand on my hip. He expertly spun me around, and then half-dipped me, gently grabbing the back of my head so that I can look into his eyes. We stood there for a while, and my hands started to tremble.

That was the moment that I realized that I needed Sherlock Holmes. I loved him more than anything in this world. And I needed him.

When he lifted me up, I leaned in and kissed him on the lips, but before he had time to react, I pulled away; realizing the horrible mistake that I had just made. I took my hands off of him as he just looked at me with utter shock, not saying a word. I felt the tears pricking behind my eyes.

"I-I'm... s-s..." Before I could finish I ran out of the room, sprinting to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I locked it and slid against the door onto my butt. I ran my fingers through my hair as I began to sob. He will never love you. 

The amount of self-doubt running through my veins at this moments was overwhelming. I wanted to die at this exact moment. The man that I loved would never love me and I knew it. What's wrong with me? Why would someone like him love someone like me?

I stood myself up and collapsed onto the bed, turning the light off and hoping for an ounce of sleep, even though I knew I wasn't going to get any. 

I couldn't stop thinking about his lips. They were soft, perfect, tasted like minty tea. Cheekbones so sharp a knife should feel shame. His hair, so silky soft and beautiful, almost never messy. Black like the night itself in comparison to his pale skin. His eyes, thousands of different colors in one. Gold, Mint, Blue, Green, Copper, Turquoise. I could stare at them all day. And did he look good in purple. Like... really good. The way those buttons strained against his chest, probably toned and ripped. His hands as well... large, perfect for my hands. 

His personality was equally as beautiful. Sweet (secretly) and kind (also secretly). He had a sexy aura about him, though he wasn't trying. His deep voice was enough. Although he could be a complete jackass from time to time, his brain is one of the most beautiful things about him. He could tell someone's life story from a glance. Now, to me that wasn't as amazing anymore, as Sherlock has trained me well in the Science of Deduction. Although he suppresses most of his emotions through his "high-functioning sociopath" shell, inside he's soft and as human as anyone could be.

Okay (Y/N) stop it! 

My eyes were wide open. No other thought in my head except that moment, playing over and over again in my mind. I didn't hear a knock at the door. I didn't hear "are you okay?" from outside. 

No Sherlock to hold me or soothe me. Just me. In a dark and empty room. Alone. 

With only my thoughts.

And Moriarty.

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Teehee the suspense. I'm sorry I'll leave now. I won't be updating for a little bit, school is insane... sorry for the suspense.

Anyway, leave your theories down in the comments below.

Also, DID YOU GUYS SEE THE S4E2 OF SHERLOCK?!?! IT BLEW MY MIND OH MY GOD!

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter! I hope you have a brilliant week! ~