I slid my silver key marked '221B' into the lock and clicked the door open, skipping and singing up the stairs along to the music blasting into my ears from my headphones. My pink mini skirt swung loosely around my legs as I hopped up the steps, throwing the door open and wandering into my room, the darkness inside as well as my sunglasses prevented me from seeing who was inside. Continuing to sing along to the music I skipped lightly to my room, swinging my bag on the bed and throwing my glasses beside them.
Entering the main room while humming happily I paused as I observed. John stood by the door, staring at me in astonishment while sherlock sat opposite a stranger I'd never seen before. The tension in the room was so strong I almost felt embarrassed for my sudden musical outburst. "Who is this?" I asked rudely, staring at the well dressed male.
"Leaving." Sherlock answered simply, not taking his eyes off the man. His hands pressed together in a thoughtful manner.
We all stayed silent, my father and this man refusing to break eye contact while uncle John and me shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Eventually, my dad turned to me with disgrace in his eyes, "Will you go get changed?! What is that supposed to be? Because it certainly is not clothes. Clothes cover the body properly, providing warmth. How am I supposed to work with a daughter who doesn't wear clothes?" Sherlock eyed up my pink crop top and mini skirt in disgrace, clearly disgusted with the amount of skin exposed. I bit my lip, not daring to argue back in front of a stranger, who was now also looking in my direction.
I repeated the question, "Who is this?" In a much blunter tone, growing frustrated with everyone's silence.
"Leaving." My dad once again repeated. The man smiled, slowly rising from his chair and straightening his tie - staring directly at me the entire time. "Jim Moriarty." The man said in a thick Irish drawl, walking smoothly until he was stood staring down at me. I couldn't help but feel exposed under his glare. He lifted my hand to his lips, pressing them to my pale knuckles for a second while keeping eye contact the whole time. "You've done a good job at keeping this one hidden, Sherlock." He said, turning back to face my father. "But not quite good enough." And with that he flashed a manic grin and slowly left the room, clicking the door shut behind him.
"That was intense.." I said after a while, breaking the dreadful silence which had fallen upon us. However no one spoke. John stood, confused and worried expressions shown on his face while Sherlock sat expressionless. "He was cute." I shrugged, wandering into my room to get changed.
At that, the two sprung to life, mumbling about how I need to avoid him. I ignored them, shutting the door behind me and throwing off the tight yet revealing clothing and pulling something more appropriate on.