It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

40 - For Clarity

The day merged into the night.

Sherlock and Elizabeth had avoided each other for the entirety of the day, both afraid of how to confront each other. Should they be forward, or delicate? Should they speak today or perhaps tomorrow?

John was annoyed by their tiptoeing around each other.

He felt like the two of them were ghosts: he barely heard from Sherlock after their short conversation that morning and then hardly heard anything from Elizabeth at all. He understood that he and Elizabeth weren't close but he would always be willing to offer a listening ear or a shoulder to lean on.

With a sigh, John stood up from his seat, which drew Sherlock's attention away from the book he had been reading.

"I'm leaving for bed now." John announced.

Sherlock nodded, "This seems important to announce because...?"

"Because when I leave, I want you two to talk. I want you to go and talk to Elizabeth and sort this out."

"She's probably sleep - "

"No. Stop. It's only 9pm. You're procrastinating." John headed to the door of the apartment, "Talk to her!" He hissed before shutting the door behind him and headed upstairs.

Sherlock sat in silence for a moment, listening to the gentle crackle of the wood in the fireplace, unsure of what to do. Well, he knew what he had to do. John hadn't hesitated on telling him what. But it was that feeling of needing to work himself up to it.

Yet he didn't have much time at all.

Elizabeth floated from out of his room, and headed to the kitchen, all the while without acknowledging Sherlock as they had both done the whole day. She didn't mean to disregard his existence but it had been a mutual disregarding of each other's existence because of the tense atmosphere.

John was right though (as always). They couldn't go on like this.

"Elizabeth?" Sherlock called to her from the safety of his armchair.

The thief turned around, a small, shy smile on her face, "Yeah?"

"Can we...talk?"

She exhaled. Elizabeth wanted to talk. She really did. But she was worried about what Sherlock would say. However, if they didn't talk, then they would never know what either of them thought.

"Uh...sure." She nodded, walking out of the kitchen and moving to stand by John's chair.

Sherlock stood too, now uncomfortable being lower than her. He thought it rude of him to be sat so casually while she stood.

"So..."

"So." Elizabeth swayed on the balls of her feet.

"Last night - "

"I didn't mean to say it meant nothing. The kiss." Elizabeth blurted and then backtracked, "Not to say it meant anything major either. I was just - we were under pressure. It was an impulsive decision and then you weren't doing anything so I said something that I thought would get your attention and snap you back to the present. And I - I don't really know what the kiss was. It was a distraction but - I don't know." She shrugged, lost for a better explanation.

Sherlock gave a single nod, "Okay..."

He just wasn't quite expecting her to just come out with it like that.

"I don't know how I felt about it either." He continued.

It was Elizabeth's turn to nod, "Did you... feel anything? When I kissed you?"