No One Ever Gets to Me

If I had known back when I had first met the obsidian curled detective with the high cheekbones and rude demeanour that I would end up being in mostly ridiculous situations on an almost daily routine, I wouldn't have changed a thing. If I had known that within one day I would have moved in with him in the perpetually cluttered flat and started solving crimes of every manner and oddity, I still wouldn't have changed a thing. Sometimes the most unexpected things turn out to be the most loved.
So went another day in the now infamous address of 221B Baker Street.
Until I received one phone call that changed my life.