In The Dark

Chapter Nine

I didn't know what to feel first. Embarrassed? Ashamed? Guilty?

No, it was a giant, raging bull of the three.

The revelation in the café didn't hit as bad as when I was left alone with my thoughts afterwards. I had imagined Sherlock as Ezra all those nights which, now that I knew the truth, wasn't fair to him at all. Sherlock was an amazing guy and I slept in his arms thinking he was that asshole. I was such a horrible person, projecting my real life crush onto him. Even though all the stories and actions had lined up perfectly, I didn't have proof. I should've asked him and not assumed.

I didn't go to class in the morning. Instead, I tortured myself in my dorm room doing absolutely nothing except thinking about how disgusting I was. When it was time for me to head off to my Blackout session, my self-esteem and mood had taken a nose dive.

"Hey Lulu, how was your day?"

Hearing him use his nickname for me made me feel worse. I sat up, bringing my knees to my chest and hugging them. I didn't answer.

"Lulu?" the concern in his voice spiked and I could feel tears starting to gather in my eyes.

When I said nothing, the bed groaned as he shifted closer to me. His large hands touched my back and my right knee. After registering my position, he immediately began stroking my back.

"What's wrong, babe?"

He was touching me so gently. I didn't deserve him.

"Say something,"

I could hear the slight frustration ebbing at his words and immediately opened my mouth.

"I did something bad," my voice came out in a whisper.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He was so close to me, his breath caressing my ear every now and then. Would he still be so close when I tell him the truth? But, we've never hidden anything from each other besides our identities. I should tell him.

"You remember that night when I hugged you out of the blue?"

He made a noise of confirmation while I cringed at how hoarse and pitiful I sounded.

"That was because I...I thought I knew who you were. I thought you were this guy I had a crush on. So then, every time we met from there, I imagined you as him. But, it turns out he isn't you, and I feel absolutely disgusting,"

I let my words rest heavily in the air around us. I waited for him to say anything, but he didn't and his hand was no longer on my back. My heart cracked a bit.

"I understand if you hate me now. I don't deserve you,"

Everything was still until I felt Sherlock taking off his shirt. My eyes went wide.

"What are you doing?"

My voice sounded sort of normal then. He chuckled at my shocked tone and something dropped heavily on the bed. I assumed he had lain down on his back. I unravelled from my sulking position to look down at him.

"I'm helping you get rid of that guy from your head. Some nights, I wish I could turn back on the lights and look at your face that I know is beautiful beyond compare. From my understanding, you painted that guy on me because you wanted the same and I can't hate you for that. I'll never hate you, Lulu,"

There were tears welling up in my eyes again, but for a different reason this time, and I smiled for the first time that day. His fingers grazed my arm and he grabbed me, dragging me over to where he was. His hands went to my waist and he lifted me to sit on top of him. I fixed myself to straddle his waist so I was more comfortable.

Sherlock then ran his hands back up my sides and down my arms to get to my hands, unconsciously sending shivers through me. I was always very sensitive to touch. He then placed my palms flat against his chest. I inhaled sharply, feeling the smooth, warm skin. He couldn't see it, but my face went bright red.

"So, go ahead,"

"Huh?"

"Feel me. See me through your hands and paint the picture of the real me in your head,"

I was in awe. This man was unbelievable. I would've never thought of that.

Hesitant at first, I safety slid my hands upward. There was the roundness of his shoulders and the sharp edges of his collarbone that dipped and led to his neck. I followed the line of his jawline, feeling the roughness of the little stubble there. I never knew he had stubble.

I lightly brushed over his lips and went up the line of his nose, softly gliding across each eyelid. Feeling a bit mischievous, I ran my fingers into his hair and tugged a bit at the roots. He groaned a bit and the sound sent shockwaves through my body. It excited me.

My hands trailed back down his face and when I got back to his mouth, he nipped at my fingertips, causing me to giggle. His hands had found themselves resting on my upper thighs, where he rubbed circles using his thumbs. After my upwards exploration, I felt brave enough to move downwards.

I slid down his pecs, purposely passing over his nipples and reached his stomach. I could not count how many times I've wanted to feel these ridges and muscles bare, and now I got to live my fantasy. I made sure to move slowly, letting my fingers stretch to caress his sides as well.

I'm not sure if Sherlock had foreseen this, but just by running my hands over his body, I had become incredibly turned on. It was probably because from my somatosensory perspective, he was drop dead gorgeous. Sherlock's grip on my thighs tightened as I began making my way back up, as if he was using them to anchor himself. Was my touch affecting him that much?

Right as my fingers brushed his lips again, my mind remembered the promise I had made to myself. I wanted to lose my virginity tonight, no matter what. Was it the right time? Was Sherlock the one I wanted to give it all to, even though he was still technically a stranger?

With him lying under me and my thumb running over his bottom lip, I was never surer about anything in my life. Yes.