Violets & Your Deductions

Boundaries, My Friend

The morning went agonizingly slow in the area of Baker Street. It was already a week after I had my first case with John and Sherlock. It wasn't all that exciting, so I had been bored for the entire time we solved it. Though when we had found the criminal, things got really scary and the Chinese crossbow doodah almost shot John's first ever girlfriend.

I lay down on the sofa, ready to die for a day until something good happens. John was typing on his laptop by his usual fabric couch in the living room with me while Sherlock was in the bedroom. My iPhone's battery is dead and it takes God knows how much time to charge. I don't know, it's already old so I guess that explains everything.

Another thirty boring minutes had passed and nothing good happened in between. I decided to think off about my friendship with Sherlock. It's kinda sad to say he still dislikes me. I could see it well in his face. But each time we would talk to each other, his expression would change constantly. There's something wrong with him, aight. But I don't know what.

I pushed myself off the sofa and entered the bedroom. I noticed that Sherlock was nowhere to be found. I got confused and searched in the bathroom.

No one was there.

I checked inside the bedroom again, but this time I felt a ghost somewhere.

Dammit, there's a ghost.

I tried getting away, but a voice startled me and caused me to freeze.

"Stop."

Bastard.

I turned my head to Sherlock's direction and gave him a nasty glare. I almost died because of him. He was even sitting inside my maroon tent!

"You were going to KILL ME!" I shrieked shakily. I was both frustrated and frightened.

"I'm not going to kill you. I'm just going to deduce you." Sherlock corrected with a low raspy voice. He does his famous praying position and stares into my whole well-being.

Oh, I am not letting him scrutinize me like this.

I approached the tent and pushed my way through. He appeared to still be watching every movement I make.

"I told you to stay right were you are, didn't I?" he asked frustratingly.

"Yeah." I sarcastically replied, flopping into the mattress and hogging the pillow that Sherlock had devoured with his arms. It smells like him, now. It's not a bad smell, but it blocked the sweet scent of the fabric conditioner I used.

I looked up at Sherlock, who was still staring at me, and gave him an odd look. I ended up staring into his eyes and he ended up the same. Feels like a staring contest. It only lasted for thirty seconds because he had received a message.

I guess it was Lestrade again.

He picks up his phone and began to write a reply. I watch him stand up. For some reason, his presence felt really nice. As if I was protected. Maybe because I saw potential in him when we solved the crime last week. His deductions and calculations were accurate and, thus, led us to the criminal. I helped in some of those, which were all handy. And it seems like that shortened the trip and became less thrilling.

As he was about to leave, I spoke up; "Wait." I covered my mouth as soon as I said it.

He turns his head towards me with a questioning look. I move my pupils around the tent, looking for anything normal to say.

"Just, don't you dare ever step into this tent. Unless I allowed you so." I announced.

"Why not?" he raised a brow in amusement.

"Boundaries, my friend." I stated. He didn't quite reply quickly.

"Well, then. You shall not sleep in my bed unless I give you the permission." he smirks.

"And, why would I ever sleep in your bed?" I scoffed.

"You'll need it in the future." he replies, walking out of the tent.

I didn't quite get that thing he just said. Need it in the future? All I need in the future is a damn good life. A life different than this bullshit. I lay down on the bed, thinking of life and nothing else. I think I had enough questioning my existence and also how people hate it, like Sherlock. But, I don't know, Sherlock appears to be developing some kind of friendship with me. Unlike before, he smirked. That surprised me, really. And also how he asked about the permission thingies.

I faintly smiled, just seeing our friendship grow little by little. I guess conversing with him more works better than ignoring him.

~~~~~~~~~~

OMAIGAD. I'm sorry, it's shorter than before... So, yeah. I originally wrote this thing in my friend's phone and had to make her send it in Twitter. I hope you like it, hehe.

btw, here's my Twitter account if ya wanna follow meh: 

oks dats all byeeeeee