Sherlock and Irene stood there for quite a while, completely lost in their kiss.
It wasn't merely a touch of their lips, it was much more.
For Sherlock, it meant she had not forgotten him.
For Irene, it meant life. Hope. Strength. She knew now she wasn't worthless. She was worth fighting for. Because he had returned for her. And that was the greatest gift he could have given her.
After a few minutes that felt like only seconds, Irene pulled away and cleared her throat. She grabbed his hand and looked up at him. "I'm a bit cold." He nodded and started walking again. He was a bit disappointed that the kiss was already over but didn't say anything. He smiled warmly down at her and let go of her hand as they arrived at 44 Eaton Square, Belgravia.
Irene switched the lights on and smiled sadly. On the shelves, there was a big layer of dust. Kate had resigned about half a year ago because she couldn't handle Irene's frequent depression. And Irene hadn't found the strength of cleaning the shelves when being at home. Which hadn't been very often, to be honest. She had spent most of the time in her so called 'hospital'.
Anyway, she was a bit embarrassed about the abandoned state her flat was in but he didn't seem to care. He pulled her closer again and kissed her softly.
She had always wanted that. She had always longed for the mere touch of their bodies, and now it seemed to happen. She returned the kiss tenderly and gasped as Sherlock lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom, carefully laying her down on her bed.
She looked up at him and smirked before pulling him into a passionate kiss again.
