I see him. Constant, lively, beautiful.
His eyes, which light up like the sea on a warm day, when he finds a particularly taxing murder case.
His mouth, which I have imagined kissing so many times. The mouth that has smiled that wide, inviting smile at me.
I see him. Troubled, restrained, unfeeling.
The hands that have grazed mine on many occasions, making me shiver endlessly. The piercing stare he does, where it honestly feels like he's boring into your soul.
I see Sherlock Holmes. I see him morning and evening, good times and bad.
It kills me.
I see him. Perfect, my soulmate, genius.
I see Sherlock Holmes. I wish he'd see me back.
a/n: please review. this idea comes from personal experience, but is expressed through molly because i feel her and i are going through a similar thing. poor molly :(
PLEASE REVIEW!