Sometimes people are afraid to spend time with their own thoughts because of what they might find, which could not be truer than this case. There was something about him that drawn her to him. Not one to strive to make friends or any sort of relationship, she nevertheless made herself comfortable in his life.
Nothing more than an experiment to him, as he proclaimed, Sherlock still couldn't understand her sudden fascination to be near him. Once in a full moon she would find her way through the streets of New York to his hideaway, oblivious to Sherlock's annoyance.
With her frequent unannounced visits, becoming more repetitive, it triggered the same response from him; silence. Almost routine, he remained quiet in his seat, as she would go on blabbing about God-knows-what for hours on end before making her departure. However, unlike any other day, this evening was different.
"It's okay… You know…" Eyes diverted of all life, her voice softly carried on as she stared sluggishly towards the opened window. "Being alone, there's absolutely nothing wrong with it."
"Almost therapeutic…" Blinking, he remained motionless with his hands laced on top of his lap. Biting his lower lip, he could not help but ignored the sigh escaping out of his er… 'Acquaintance' mouth. "Ah… Yes, therapeutic."
Titling her head in thought, he could have sworn, just for an instanced, he heard a low rumbled of laughter erupting deep in her throat before she spatted with amusement. "But I surely wouldn't go as far as to say you're entirely alone. You do have the dear-oh Watson. Oh, the ever-so-wonderful Watson!"
"A remarkable creature, if I may add." She pointed out before continuing. "Putting up with all your shit. I would have hung you by now, but I guess I must've lucked out. Poor thing…"
Then it stopped; the on-going chatter regarding nothing in particular. Silence engulfed them, embracing him with discomforted. It was certainly out of character for the babbling woman to stop, in the middle of venting out her subject of "loneliness" since moving to the Mainland from… What was it again? Ah, South America.
Refusing to talk about any subject in the last three hours since her unwelcome arrival at his flat, he had the urged to mutter anything, rather if it was regarding the weather or the bloody inedible pineapples she came cross at the market the other day just to revert her back to her normal state. However, passing a mere glanced at her; he caught an unusual emotion flashed through her eyes before she turned her head to catch him in a heated stare.
Slightly parting her lips, she whispered his name. "Sherlock…"
A pregnant paused followed as a shivering sensation ran throughout his body. He continued to remain speechless; not wanting her to know the peculiar affected her voice had on him.
Parting her lips, she became almost inaudible. "Just as you have Watson, I have you."
Blurting out, he mumbled half-heartily. "Absolutely ridiculous."
"So you speak!" Scoffing, a smile surfaced as she leaned forward to firmly place her palm on his cheek, a gesture Sherlock refused to admit he took pleasure in. "There's a purpose for everyone, don't you think? If I haven't met you, I would have surely crossed the thresholds to-"
Just before Sherlock could utter a word, the entrance door of the flat abruptly opened, revealing the worn out Watson gracing them with her presence.
"Hi, guys!" She tiredly exclaimed before dropping down the bags of groceries neither one of them bother to help her with. "Sorry I'm late but someone decided he wanted some alone time to meditate."
Slipping back her hand, their 'acquaintance', darted up, softly chuckling at Watson remarked before quietly passing a glanced at Sherlock to say. "Well, I guess I'll be off then. Did my fair-share of talking today, don't cha think?"
"Leaving already?" Watson pouted before slapping the world-renowned detective shoulder. "Is he still not talking to you? I thought it was over. Seriously, this experiment is insane!"
"You're my bodyguard; not my pimp, know your place Watson."
An argument unfolded, as the two flat mates continued to bump heads before they came to noticed that they had a guest. Whipping their heads around, the pair was welcome by an emptied room. Amiss the commotion, neither noticed the absence of the woman who vanished from mid-air.
"She must've left…" Watson concluded as a confused expression graced her features before Sherlock abruptly leaped to his feet, passing through the doorway, just catching his 'acquaintance' gliding down the stairway.
Heart racing, he hurdled in front of her, startling her; a small gasped escaping her lungs. "Jeez, Sherlock! You gave me a fright."
Sherlock didn't understand why he bothered chasing after her, as if his brain short-circuited and needed to be rebooted. Around them, everything seemed so fast-forward as he remained motionless in the middle. "You… I…"
"What?" She arched an eyebrow before crossing her arms against her chest and shaking her head. "Look… I want to apologize."
"Wait… What?"
"Please, let me continue." She pressed her hand on his chest as she briefly attempted to gather her thoughts. "I'm sorry for troubling you. I know you have more important matters to deal with than to sit there and listen to me babble nonsense."
"It's just that… Lately… It just feels like I'm on the edge of falling apart and the only thing that has been keeping me at bay was… You." She finished with a look of dismay as she averted his gazed. "And if it'd make you feel any better, I'll promise to stop dropping by-"
A sharp intake of breath, Sherlock was almost rendered speechless before he bellowed out. "No."
Baffled, she took a step back. "Excuse me…?"
"If you so happen to come along my flat tomorrow evening…" Suddenly, he was acutely aware of his hard pounding heartbeat. "I wouldn't exactly silence you to leave."
The corners of her lips hooked themselves to his heart. Her smile, something so strange, so pure lighted up the little hallway and filled the darkest dwellings with a beautiful glow that radiated from her, leaving him breathless.
"I would like that, Sherlock."