The sister... [Recently edited]

Chapter 6: And The After-Thought Feelings [EDITED]

I step into 221B Baker Street, mentally preparing myself for the inevitable shouting from John.

Possibly Sherlock too.

I lower myself onto the sofa, waiting while the two of them finish muttering to each other in the kitchen.

They were definitely talking about me.

"Mykala?" John says as he walks into the sitting room.

I look up at my older brother.

Here we go.

"What on earth were you thinking?" he explodes. "You matched the description, and you still left the wedding on your own! How stupid are you? Actually..." He shakes his head. "Don't answer that."

I sigh.

"You could have died!" he continues, pacing across the room. "What would Mum and Dad have said if something had happened to you? Theyd tear me a new one!"

There it is.

The guilt card.

Again.

"I didn't die, John!" I snap back, rising to my feet. "I'm still here! I'm not a child anymore."

The room falls silent for a moment.

Then I speak again, quieter this time.

"And besides... they're your parents."

John freezes.

"Especially Dad."

The words sting, even after all these years.

"They never treated me like I belonged. I'm not his daughter-I was the product of Mum's affair. A constant reminder of everything that went wrong."

I laugh bitterly.

"They didn't know what to do with me. I was just... inconvenient."

John's expression softens, but I don't let him interrupt.

"So no, I don't care what they'd think."

I fold my arms.

"I've been gone for six years, John. They didn't bother with me once. It's time to stop living your life trying to impress people who never treated either of us the way they should have."

Before John can reply, Sherlock walks into the room.

His eyes flick between the two of us, instantly assessing the situation.

He looks at me with an expression that is almost...

Disapproving.

"The police want your statement," he says matter-of-factly. "They know you were at the wedding. I persuaded them to wait until morning."

I let out a slow breath.

"Thank you."

The tension in the room suddenly feels exhausting.

"If neither of you mind, I'm going to take a shower and get some sleep."

I take a few steps towards the door before stopping.

Turning back, I walk over to Sherlock.

Without really thinking about it, I wrap my arms around him in a brief hug.

"Thank you," I murmur.

Before I can overthink it, I rise onto my toes and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

Sherlock goes completely rigid.

I smile to myself before heading upstairs.

---

Despite the shower and the warmth of my bed, sleep refuses to come.

Eventually, I give up.

Padding quietly downstairs in my pyjamas, I make myself a mug of hot chocolate before wandering into the sitting room.

Sherlock is exactly where I expected him to be.

Curled into his armchair.

Fingertips pressed together.

Eyes fixed on me.

"You alright, Sherly?" I ask, settling into the opposite chair with my mug.

He says nothing.

He simply stares.

Without blinking.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally answers.

"Yes."

I nod slowly.

"Right."

The silence that follows is surprisingly comfortable.

When I finish my drink, I stand to leave.

Before I can take a step, fingers wrap gently around my wrist.

I glance down.

Sherlock.

My heart immediately decides to ignore all medical advice and attempts to beat its way out of my chest.

He couldn't know.

Surely he couldn't.

"You kissed my cheek," he says.

I turn to face him fully.

He has stepped closer than I realised.

Close enough that I can feel his breath against my face.

"Yes," I reply, raising an eyebrow. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No."

Another pause.

"Then why mention it?"

He studies me for another second.

"I wanted to try something."

Before I have time to ask what he means, he leans forward.

His lips meet mine.

One hand remains lightly around my wrist while the other rests gently against the small of my back, pulling me just a little closer.

For a heartbeat, my mind goes completely blank.

Then, almost instinctively, I kiss him back.

Just as quickly as it began, Sherlock pulls away.

I stare at him in stunned silence.

"What..." I finally whisper. "What the hell was that for?"

His expression remains unreadable.

"An experiment."

I blink.

"An experiment?"

"For now."

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"Goodnight, Mykala."

With that, he turns and walks calmly towards his bedroom, his dressing gown billowing behind him.

I remain rooted to the spot, staring after him.

Then, despite everything, I smile.

Sometimes...

I really could be such a teenage girl.

A/N: I fixed the plot issue in this chapter... I know John's parents are deceased however I kept them alive in the first chapter then clearly decided to unalive them?? Idk many plot holes in this book that I'm having to work through. They are alive so I've fixed that. Also trying to make Sherlock more ... Sherlock? Anyway! Enjoy