WOLF | Sherlock X Reader |

|08| - Promises

Notes: Woohoo, guess who finished this at five am 😂 like I had nothing better to do. Anyways, a long awaited update, I'm sure - enjoy and tell me what you think 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃

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"Well, I certainly hadn't expected you to come so soon," Renee smiles lightly as Y/n and Sherlock took the tea that she was offering. "I assume you came to ask me some questions," She looks at Sherlock.

"Yes," Sherlock answers, placing his cup down on the table in front of them.

"Just to let you know," Renee says, taking a seat in the chair facing them, she crosses one leg over the other and smiled, "I'll be leaving the country later in the evening,"

Y/n wasn't at all surprised to hear this, and she nodded in understanding. She would too, given the circumstances, but either way, he would never stop looking for her. She was the mastermind to what would be his downfall, she would burn his empire to the ground and stand tall over it's ashes.

Sherlock was quiet, and Y/n could tell by just how intently he was staring at the woman he was doing what he did best. He was so certain of himself, that he was going to slove this case quicker if they had this done as soon as possible. John had been off on his own mission this morning as well, today was just a day to ask questions, she only hoped that Sarah had been co-operative; the redhead could be quite stubborn.

"What are you running from?" Sherlock asks, narrowing his eyes at her, Y/n watched him from the corner of her eye, trying to figure out which cards he's going to play to get exactly what he wanted.

Sherlock Holmes is unpredictable, like a storm; beautiful, violent and unforgiving. He knows exactly what to say to get his desired reaction, the puppeteer pulling the strings.

"Who said I was running from anything?" Renee asks, she seemed amused by his question as she tilted her head slightly with a chuckle.

"I would," Sherlock counters, leaning back into the couch, "People you know - your husband have died. I can't imagine why you would be leaving the country."

Y/n caught his sarcastic tone and shot him a look, which  he hadn't seen, of course, being too busy watching Renee. She didn't seem phased by his words however as she offered a smile.

"Of course, it's only right for a grieving widow to be allowed to get away from the haunting memories of her home," She waves a hand in front of her with a raised brow.

"But you are running from something." Sherlock narrows his eyes.

Renee smiled again, but it didn't reach her eyes like it did when they first came to her home, it seemed forced. That was something Y/n didn't miss, she knows what it's like to have to force a smile, to put up a tough exterior to face your demons.

"Unfortunately, yes." Renee agrees with a dip of her head, she rings her fingers together nervously in her lap as her eyes found the window to her far right. "But aren't we all?"

Sherlock was watching her carefully, his eyes forever narrowed. He hummed quietly, tilting his head, " Interesting that a grieving widow, shows no signs of bereavement what so ever."

Renee straightened in her seat at that, her eyes once again darting to the window. Y/n followed her gaze, curious as to why she was suddenly so interested in the shrubbery that could be seen through the floor to ceiling glass plane.