Late. That's all he ever was. Completely and utterly late. Of course Sherlock never reasoned that John did everything. John ran errands, John went out shopping, John organised the bills, John made the meals and overall John was the new peace keeper between Sherlock and the new neighbour. Their personalities clashed, as the neighbour was quick witted and smart too but she wasn't a complete show off like Sherlock. Sherlock relished in his brains and genius whereas she hid from them. Her name was Elizabeth, a fitting name for such a mild-mannered woman. There were days in which Elizabeth was the most loveliest person you could ever meet and then other days were she would have run ins with Sherlock and not come down to their flat for days. John resolved these spats in boiling the kettle and sitting them down in perfect silence to drink it.
Sherlock himself was fond of Elizabeth, she would also bore easily at trivial things John would do, like the kettle boiling or coffee making. Sherlock grew tired of John so when Elizabeth arrived things didn't seem to bad. The day was still fresh in his mind,
It was a dreary winters night as the snow fell on 221B. Freezing John had lit the fire. There was a rap-tap-tap on the front door and Ms. Hudson bundled to the door the soft pacing of her slippers was heard to Sherlock's ears.
"Hi is this 221B?" A soft woman's voice spoke.
"Yes dear it is, oh are you Elizabeth Bennett the new resident?'' Ms Hudson spoke in an equally soft tone.
"Yes that's me. Sorry can I come in, it's freeing out here.'' The woman spoke warmly.
"Oh dear so sorry, where are my manners!" Ms Hudson laughed.
The woman laughed but sneezed too.
Sherlock grinned as he knew what Ms Hudson's mannerism was like.
"It's just up here dear." Ms Hudson spoke again.
The girl remained quiet until she reached Sherlock's flat as his door was wide open. John sat alert obviously noticing her beauty for that is what she was. Her hair was brown with voluminous brown curls cascading to just before her breasts started. Her skin was pale but she had bright red cheeks from the new found warmth in the house, she also had plump lips that were still a purple colour from the cold. Above a small button nose there were these massive green eyes that seemed to shine. From her attire it seemed she was absolutely freezing as she had a pair of dark jeans on, riding boots, a long sleeve top visible from underneath her cream jumper which she covered with a thick brown coat and a floral scarf. On her head she had a woollen hat and on her hands she had some leather beige gloves.
"Hello. I'm Elizabeth the new neighbour." She spoke in a husky, tantilising voice.
And from that moment Sherlock knew the new addition would be a great thing.
The sudden slam of the front door snapped Sherlock out of his memories. Sitting with his feet tucked under his buttocks and hands pressed firmly together as if in prayer, Sherlock remained in his pensive mood.
"Oh don't worry Sherlock, we've got this." Elizabeth spoke sarcastically juggling three shopping bags at once.
"Good" was the reply.
Sherlock could hear Elizabeth muttering something under her breath and loudly staking the food into the fridge.
"Fingers Sherlock!" She exclaimed." For god sake!"
"I was bored." He replied.
"Then read a book or something! You don't keep fingers in a fridge were you keep food.'' She still ranted.
"I've read every book in this house, back to front, front to back." He stated.
"Then why don't you walk down the high street to Waterstones and pick a bloody book." Elizabeth wasn't giving up easily.
John mused. He loved watching them argue as they argued like they were married or something.
"Fine. I will on Saturday if you come with me." Sherlock tried his luck.
"Fine." She replied secretly happy with the outcome.
Bidding a farewell to John and Sherlock she retired to her own flat. It had place blue walls in the living room with light cream coloured furnishings to match. Her bedroom was a soft purple with a double bed in the middle, although the other side of the bed was rarely slept in. Her wardrobe was nearly empty as she had left most of her clothes behind.
She thought that running from the past was hard but running from the truth was much harder. And the truth hurts.