Hi everybody! I must to say, this history is a traduction of my spanish fanfic named "El contexto emocional", is just that I wanna publish it in english. It's my first fanfic, and I'm so sorry if the history has some mistakes, english is not my first language, please, forgive me!

Questions or reviews? I'll appreciate it so much!

So... Let's go! I hope you like it.

00. Tears

She could feel the warm drops of water crashing against his face raised to the shower of his bathroom, had remained in that position for five minutes, before that was the protagonist of one of the most tortuous and intense moments of his life.

I love you.

Sherlock's words echoed in his eardrums, he still could not believe he'd said it, twice, all to hear that same expression from her; She had to confess that she still felt confused about that situation. What kind of experiment or case required her to say those words to Sherlock? As much as he was spinning in his mind, he came to no conclusion; However, there was something that tormented her more: The voice of pleading in which the detective consultant had made that request. Everything coincided that she was not the only one suffering at that moment, Holmes' tone of voice betrayed a clear anguish, worry, anxiety, fear ...

He rubbed his hands against his face regaining a normal anatomical position under the stream of water. He had chosen to take a shower to see if he could mix the tears that never ceased to come out with the water in the bathroom and they stopped, because two hours were already bordering on exaggeration. But it could not help it, it were so many years in love with those heavenly eyes, that curly hair and that pale skin; she was aware that the main function of his presence in Sherlock's life was to help him solve his cases, only that. Yes, he had told her that she did, that even Moriarty believed that she was not important when she cared most, that day she stayed with him as John's deputy had felt that was true and that besides being the shy patron of Bart's, was also someone valuable in the heart of the consulting detective.

What if he had only said it to keep it at his feet?

She shook his head as she passed the blue-blue towel (like his eyes ...) against his skin to remove the excess moisture from his recent shower, with some reluctance. He gently wrapped his body in that same towel, and he prepared to leave the bathroom to go to his room, where he finished putting on her sleeping clothes; brushed her hair and heavily went to her bed to get on the sheets and go to bed, outside it was dark and even if it was not so late, his body and mind screamed to rest, added to the stomach upset that had since morning, but with everything what had happened, that had passed to the last plane, not even drank the tea that prepared when he called to her.

The hours passed, her eyelids still could not get together to go to the dream world, she wanted to go there, at least in that place could meet her father, feel happy, calm, safe and not deny it, often found With a Sherlock wrapping her in his arms before bringing his lips together in a tender kiss.

She had to stop having that kind of hope, if she kept them, only hurt herself more, it was ridiculous that after all those years she still believed that the detective consultant would look at her with eyes of love, she could not deny that that call dragged on to a sea of doubt, but it also tormented her; it was obvious that she felt something for Sherlock, but that had been the first time she had expressed her feelings clearly; maybe she must have been relieved by that, at least it was a stone less on her back. She rolled onto the mattress once more, ready to try to forget her feelings, but there was something, like a little splinter stuck that did not convince her at all, she did not know if it was her stubborn side, or a hunch; was now so upset with him that it was not possible to differentiate, why he insisted on hurting her? He always said cruel and horrible things, and although lately he had changed his attitude a little with her; what happened during the afternoon exceeded the limit of malice ... She was so worried about him, especially after the explosion of 221B, but so hurt, even with the fact that he also seemed to be suffering from the way he asked to tell him that. If she had already told him that he could not tell her because it was only the truth, why did he insist on torturing her? Tears slipped back from her eyes in a rebellious and abundant way, sliding down her cheeks until she wet the pillow as the moans of emotional pain ripped through her throat. The sobbing and sobbing continued until Molly Hooper managed to fall asleep, with the same thought that accompanied her before closing her eyes the last few years.

Sherlock Holmes.