Sherlock: His Lover Called A [Sherlaide II]

Three Words

Sherlock inhaled and let the breath out before grasping her hand and lifting it up, "Sherlock, what are you doing?" She asked, unsure of how to react as he pressed it against his heart, moving his dressing gown out of the way so that there was only his dress shirt between her hand and his skin, "What is this, Sherlock?"

"Just pay attention to what you're feeling there, Adelaide!" He pled and then took a breath, "And listen. Just let me speak."

"A-Alright." It was no hard task to feel his pulse. It was beating fast and strong underneath her hand. She looked from it to Sherlock, ready to listen to what he had to say.

"I-I-I admit that you rather stuck me wh-when you told me that you love me. B-But please, don't think that I didn't grasp it at first because I am a machine. Most people think that of me. It's become part of my image along with my coat, scarf, and that blasted hat; that I am a cold, emotionless genius interested only in solving cases. But I don't want you to believe that I'm a robot that's incapable of feeling human sentiment," He took a sharp breath, "B-Because I do. I do  feel emotion. It's just all so confusing and complex to me that I have tried for years to avoid it. But I do have a heart. Y-You can feel it, can't you?"

She nodded tentatively, "I-I can, Sherlock. I can feel it beating. You're not a robot."

Sherlock nodded and noticed that he was trembling as much as she was, "Adelaide, you've trusted me with your life and now your heart. I have trusted my life to John, Mycroft, and a number of others, but I've never  trusted anyone with my own heart. It has always been crucial for me to prevent my mind from being ruled by my heart. And yet, it leads me more than ever. Because of you."

"Sherlock, where are you going with this? Why are you saying all of this?"

He pressed her hand harder over his heart, "B-Because from now on, Adelaide, I am trusting you with my heart. And everything that comes with it. You've given so much of yourself in so many different ways. You've given me your heart and your love. And now I'm giving you mine," Sherlock himself could feel his heart pumping, threatening to rupture from his chest, "It's yours, Adelaide. All of it."

She started crying and he paled.  Why is she crying!? Shouldn't she be happy?!! What have I done wrong now?  He couldn't deduce that her tears were ones of relief. Even if he hadn't quite said what she'd hoped to hear. It was still beautiful, and very sincere.

Sherlock's chest tightened with anxiety and he fumbled, "D-Did I upset you, Adelaide? I didn't mean to hurt you-"

She shook her head, "No, Sherlock! It's not that!"

"Then why are you weeping, Love?"

"Because what you said was so p-poignant and meaningful, Darling."

Sherlock knew that she was still upset though. And after a minute of deductions he figured out why. Those three words. That single, short declaration. I implied it but didn't say it explicitly.

The brunette gulped, knowing that she just wanted to hear that one phrase before she truly believed him. He took yet another breath, "Adelaide..."

"Y-Yes?"

He choked on the words a bit. They were so foreign for him that they stuck in his throat. But Adelaide didn't press. She silently encouraged then at last, Sherlock managed to say what he wanted and needed to, "I Love You."

Adelaide smiled tearfully and sniffled, overjoyed to be able to hear it for herself. Sherlock let go of her hand and surged forward. He dove down to her lips and pulled her close to him. The kiss started light and quickly deepened. When they split apart, he was nearly breathless. He rested his head against her neck again and nuzzled it, "I Love You, Adelaide..."

She embraced him and leaned her head against his, "I Love You too, Sherlock."

By the time Missus Hudson came up to deliver his morning cuppa, she found quite the scene in the living room. Adelaide had sprawled out on the sofa, wisps of golden hair sticking everywhere. Her head was resting on a cushion on Sherlock's lap and she was covered by his dressing gown. He was leaning onto the armrest, his head supported by one hand. His other hand was in her hair. Obviously he dozed off!  Missus Hudson remarked to herself and snapped a few pictures to send out to the group. Then she left the tea and headed back downstairs, giggling to herself all the way.

Thank you for reading!!