Their relationship worked in snapshots almost- as in several moments in their lives.
Imagine if you can- two college kids; a boy and a girl. The boy is tall with curly hair and bright eyes, the color of the sea after a storm, even as he has evidence of a few facial bruises and a bloody nose. The much shorter girl has honey colored hair the falls just below her shoulders while her brown almond eyes portray her emotions like a canvas. They are sitting outside, at night in the mid of winter. The girl is in a black mini skirt, with a red one shouldered glittery top and a humorously large black coat wrapped around her as she leaned heavily against the taller boy on a Cambridge Campus bench.
Now zoom in to the situation and rewind just a bit.
Music was pounding, lights made everything blurrier as the girl stumbled through the crowd trying to see what everyone crowded around near the door, "Let me through!" She meant to shout over people but was drowned through her own slurring and the much louder noises of the party.
When she managed to push her way to the front she saw the boy getting punched for what she could assume was the third of fifth time considering the already present bruises that are positioned and that the kid on top of him is right handed, "Sherlock!" The girl shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment trying to collect herself enough before she shouted loudly and clearly for a change, "Sherlock!"
Using her position to advantage she grabbed the kid's head and pulled back surprising him as he tumbled backwards and suddenly arms reached out to grab her from behind around the waist. She struggled against them. Suddenly she felt the force on the top of her head as the clash of glass breaking over her head was heard while the crowd shouted and she felt much weaker.
The beaten boy took advantage and turned on his attacker, knocking him out in two punches and standing up as quickly as he could. He turned to the girl who was weakly trying to struggle as someone held her still and he scoffed plying the arms of her holder away. She sort of fell from the change in pressure and fell into the Sherlock's arms as he rolled his eyes.
Some other guy tried to throw a punch but the boy, Sherlock simply evaded it by moving and pulling the stumbling girl with him backwards towards the door. The punch hit a bystander and soon a brawl had started while the boy and girl had just managed to make it out the door.
"Iris Athena Brook. What were you doing?" Sherlock stopped walking after he felt the girl stumble on her two inch heels for the fourth time. He knew she was drunk, that was no question and by the closed eyes and concentrated breathing she was trying to be coherent enough to speak with him. Moving his hands he placed them on either side of her head, forcing her to look up at him, "No, you can't fall asleep right now."
She looked up at Sherlock's face, surprised by his raised voice but only for a second as her eye lids drooped again and she shook her head again, "Can we …go outside?" Iris, the girl, knew he was right and that she probably had a concussion from getting hit over the head with a… vodka bottle?
Sherlock was happy that some sense was getting back to her as he wrapped an arm around her waist in an effort to get her outside sooner and without her ending up on the floor of the dorm hallways. He held her on one arm while opening the door with the other as the cold air hit them and he felt the girl's body shiver as he suddenly realized just how short her shirt was, "Come here." He led her to one of the benches on the side walk but before she could sit he held her forearms up, "Good?"
Confused a bit she regained balance that she had lost in trying to keep up with his longer strides as he slipped off his longer thick coat and threw it behind her, dramatically wrapping it around her shoulders, "Sherlo-" She tried shrugging it off.
He was relentless as he cut her off quick and void of emotion, "I am wearing a button down and jeans, much better equipped than you for this temperature."
The boy sat down on the bench and she followed mildly amused by the sight of her own breathing in the cold night air, "But that's the point, it keeps me awake." Her words mumbled a bit and she rolled her head onto Sherlock's shoulder.
Looking down at the tired girl he had to wonder how she had ever weaved herself into his life enough that he had felt the need to make sure she was okay when he got her text, "Awake is good, but blue with hypothermia is not." He really wasn't sure what to expect when he got to her dorm but a raging party was not it.
Seemingly finding his shoulder comfortable she moved closer to him and lifted her feet to sit next to her, covering her legs with the coat, "True but it wouldn't look good if my prince charming was frozen in my stead."
Sherlock laughed a little at his friend's drunkenness, this wasn't the first time he had found her like this and each time he did she had something to say about him. It got even funnier in the morning when he brought it back up to her and she'd get sassy about the entire experience, "It seems to me that you have yourself in a droll type of fairytale."
Hugging his arm she smiled, "But it's mine isn't it?" Her speech was still slurred and wandering by the end of her statement.
"Whatever you say." Sherlock muttered before he felt the weight on his arm increase by a pound, "Ris, stay awake."
With the reminder her eyes shot open and she nodded, "Sorry, I just feel so… drained."
"Ris!" He said a bit louder finally looking at her to make sure her eyes were open, "What's 17 times 33?"
She giggled into his shirt before replying, "Your coat is really warm."
Rolling his eyes impatiently, "Seventeen times thirty-three?" He was unused to talking to Iris like a child and unused to her drinking at all, especially this much.
The girl sighed dramatically, "Five hundred sixty one."
He nodded, although walking and being conscience weren't always possible it always seemed her logical thinking was so that's what he always resorted to, "Why did you text me?"
Shaking her head she laughed, "Because I wanted you to be there!" As though it was the most obvious thing in the world and Sherlock knew no good answer could be received from her by her state of mind presently, "Why were they punching you?"
This time he looked down and around the area, "I asked where you were, the man wouldn't tell me so I told his girlfriend he was cheating on her." This time Iris rolled her eyes and laughed in good humor, "With his boyfriend." Sherlock joined her.
"Now I wish I was there." Controlling her laugh she could just imagine the look on everyone's face.
They laughed and after a minute on silence Sherlock asked again, "How many noble gases exist?"
"Why?" Iris groaned shaking her head at the disruption in her peace.
"How many?" …
"Iris!" His tone wasn't desperate at all, just quick and forceful; almost scary if she didn't know him so well.
She yawned, "Six. Helium, radon, neon, argon, xenon, krypton." Before Sherlock could ask her another question, "Sherlock why am I so tired?" Surroundings were still blurred and she still felt like everything was spinning as she kept her eyes closed and covers by Sherlock's shoulder.
Sherlock checked his phone to see it has been about ten minutes after she got hit, "Where do you want to go for the night?" He wouldn't be sending her back to that building any time soon and he basically already knew she'd be with him tonight.
"Is your apartment available?" He lived off campus, in an apartment paid for by his parents and alone because, unsurprisingly, very few people can stand living with him.
Nodding he stood and offered a hand to the disrupted girl who feel sideways at her lack of his shoulder, smirking at her disarray, "Well then we'd best get out of this cold." Her pouting face turned on as she stood from the bench irritated at her friend's always sudden movements and she fell forward a bit before he caught her arms.
Slipping his arm around her waist he supported her walking, "Why do we have to walk?" She whined and Sherlock again rolled his eyes. Her drunk was so different from her usual demeanor and yet so alike.
"I apologize for forgetting my white horse and shining armor today." Sherlock said sarcastically and dryly as Iris tripped on her own feet again while she laughed getting the joke still, and Sherlock just rolled his eyes, how did they ever become friends?