"Molly, dear, what are you looking at?" Mrs. Hudson asked me, as I looked around frantically, "You seem a million miles away."
"Yeah, sweetie." Tom chimed in, and I swallowed down the bile that was climbing up my throat. And I shouldn't feel that way around my fiancé.
"Sorry, I just, um, need the loo. Won't be a minute." I lied, probably not a good one either, and I ran off away from them, and the crowd.
Once I got outside, I breathed heavily and held my head in my hands. I was such an idiot. I still loved Sherlock, everyone knew that. I was just oblivious. Even Tom knew I didn't really want to marry him, and he still went through with it. What the hell have I done?
I ran outside, throwing off my stupid yellow hat. I hated what I was wearing, even if it was my style, because Tom picked it. God, I was such a horrible person. I looked around, at all the beautiful flowers that were highlighted by the blaring disco lights from inside the reception. It felt almost eerie, but I knew I didn't have time to admire the scenery. I had to find Sherlock, because John and Mary would be worried out of their minds when they would inevitably find out that Sherlock had left.
"Sherlock!" I yelled, searching the area for a big, black coat.
In the pitch black.
Didn't really think that through.
I regretted my heels too, thanks to the grass everywhere. But I couldn't take them off, so I just struggled to not shrink further down in the ground.
"Sherlock, where are you?" I shouted, "You can't just leave without saying goodbye!"
I knew it was useless, he was probably back at Baker Street now. And even if he was here, he wouldn't come back just for me. Of course he wouldn't, I saw him eyeing up that bridesmaid, the Welsh one. Jasmine, or Janice, something like that. And I was engaged, for crying out loud. I had no room to talk, did I?
"Molly?" I heard a shout, and I turned around to see Sherlock striding towards me, "What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be with what's-his-face?"
"You mean Tom?" I mentally hit myself in the face. Why did I mention him, "He was annoying me a bit. Didn't really want to be there. And you left, you idiot. John and Mary will be worried." I said, trying to be calm when there were butterflies in my stomach.
"They don't need me any more. They've got a little one on the way, they're a happy little family." Sherlock sounded happy, but I knew him. This was fake. He thought they would leave him out after this. I heard other people, saying it was the end of an era, a new chapter. He was probably terrified.
"That doesn't mean you'll just be ignored. You'll still be with John, you'll still solve crimes together, you know. It won't change because he's got Mary." I said, and Sherlock laughed nervously. Sherlock, nervous? What was going on?
"Well, I'll be off then." He said, a tinge of sadness in his eyes, and I pitied him.
"I'll go with you, then." I said, and his eyes widened.
"You've got Tom to look after. You don't need to come back, if you don't want to." Was he shy? This wasn't like Sherlock, something must have really shaken him up.
"I'll go, even if it means you'll get back to your usual arsehole self. I sort of miss you telling me I'm weird. It's odd." I say, and I laugh slightly, "You haven't even offended my horrid dress." And Sherlock laughs too.
"To be fair, it is quite horrid. But you manage to pull it off, somehow." He says, and I blush.
"Sherlock, are you okay?" I asked suddenly, and he looked to the ground.
"Of course, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because this isn't you. You're not nice to me unless you're regretting something, or you feel alone. You don't turn to others for validation, unless you feel like John won't do that. You don't turn to me unless I'm... The only option." I said, feeling terrible now.
"That's not true. I..." Sherlock seemed lost for words, which was a change. But I hated this side of him.
"No, it is." I said softly, "And you don't need to be ashamed of it. It's okay, it's just how it is."
"You know me better than anyone, Molly Hooper. How do you do that? How do you understand me?" He asked quietly.
"I observe. Not like you do. I just, I've been so head over heels for you for so long, that I notice all the little things that other people wouldn't. It's my own stupidity." I laughed, and Sherlock leant down and kissed my cheek softly.
Which left me just the tiniest bit shocked. And him too, I think. We just stared at each other, neither daring to look away or do anything.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, you're engaged, I mean." Sherlock rambled, until I put a hand on his cheek.
"Should I feel special that I'm probably the only person you've ever apologised to?" I joked, and Sherlock nodded.
"Probably." He took my hand off his cheek, and smiled, "Goodbye, Molly Hooper."
And he walked away from me, his black coat swaying in the wind, his collar up to his neck.
Why could I not just tell him how I felt? Typical Molly, shellshocked when the guy she likes actually talks to her.
"Goodbye, Sherlock Holmes." I mumble quietly, before I turn back to the reception, and to my fiancé.