what if?

chapter 6

I feel a cold hand press down on my shoulder shaking me gently but urgently bringing me back to reality my eyes fly open to see Sherlock bent over me his face a mask of worry hair tumbling down highlighting all of his features. I finally realise why he is in my bedroom, my face is wet with sweat and my eyelashes thick from crying embarrassment floods though me like a tidal wave of horribleness pulling a pillow over my face “this is so embarrassing” my voice is muffled against the softness of my pillow my face hot sticky. I feel Sherlock’s hand move some of my greasy hair to one side shivering involuntarily I say “why are you always so bloody cold?” a sly smile creeps up one side of his face a smile that tells me he’s gonna do something either very horrible or very childish

“Don’t you even dare” I say looking him in the eye not knowing exactly what he’ll do

“dare to do what?” he asked me with faked hurt and innocents his eyes still portraying a devilish glint “this?” with that he flipped me over and shoved his hands down my back. Just then I did something I hadn’t done in years and screamed which made Sherlock’s laughs even more loud and buoyant as I climb on top of him punching lightly while he slaps me I wonder then is that what it is like to have a brother someone so close to you I have only ever had harry a boring girl who constantly wants to my makeup but then play fighting with Sherlock I feel so at home more happy than I have for a long time.

After getting changed I go into the living room to find Sherlock positively skipping after staring at him for a while leaning against the door frame with a small smirk on my face. After a few minutes of this he finally seemed to notice I was there and skipped over to me with a smile that could light up a whole world and grabs on to my shoulders so he can steer me away from the door frame.

“Guess what?” his voice is high with excitement

“Well do you actually want me to guess?” because from the time a saw him skipping I knew nothing could get his this exited only

“Murder Johnny five of them same day nothing in common we’ve got to go my friend” he can barely keep himself contained as we hail for a taxi.

I remember once Donavon told me to stay away from Sherlock Holmes and looking at him now so content in his mind palace happy of all things looking at dead bodies it’s as if it radiates off him. I feel a small smile reaching across my face before I met Sherlock I would probably be horrified by the sheer thought of being happy at death but now I feel a strange sense of belonging. It’s almost nice to be surrounded by dead bodies, now that isn’t something I thought I’d ever say in my life.

As soon as we get back into our apartment Sherlock flops face down onto the sofa burying his head into one the cushions and let out along groan. My instincts tell me to go and help but this being Sherlock I sigh and say “what’s wrong now?” I probably should me more empathetic towards him but I’ve known him long enough to know that that wouldn’t be appreciated. I look to him now, flat on his stomach banging his head against the cushions the plates in his spine standing out against his purple velvet shirt that hugs his body so closely its almost tight but not quite, the way it frames his body makes him look like a stone angel deadly but great. His voice wakes me up from my little happy place and brings me back to reality a place where “us” will be nothing but a fantasy.

“Where is my gun?” I cover my ears and start singing fake your death by my chemical romance (A/N TOO SOON?) pretending I can’t hear him when he is clearly shouting at me but hey it’s a good song Sherlock can wait. I open my eyes to find that Sherlock has his back turned to me and his arms crossed over his chest in a clear strop. A small smile turns the corner of my lips up.

“I win” I whisper as I make my way to the kitchen.

A/N sorry it took so long to update its just stuff has been happening lately and I probaby won't update as much as I would like to think sorry :(