Author's Note: Hello Sherlolly fans of all kinds. I just wanted to say how much I adore this couple. I've never written a fanfic like this and consider them my ultimate OTP, even if new photos show Molly with a man who could possibly be a love interest for her (please let it be a brother or something). I just want to tell you all how amazing it is to be able to share this with you all and share my love for this couple. Be warned that near the end of this story Sherlock will be a little OOC, but that usually happens, seeing as how he doesn't do emotions. Some parts may be confusing but the majority of this was written during the hours of 9 P.M. and 4 A.M. with many days of work having gone into it. It's because of this I lost so much sleep and have loved doing it. God this is long, so without further ado, my first (finished) multi chapter fanfic.
Testimonies of Broken Hearts
A Sherlolly Fan Fiction
Chapter One (1)
The A Team
And they say/ She's in the Class A Team/ Stuck in her daydream/ Been this way since eighteen/ But lately her face seems/ Slowly sinking, wasting/ Crumbling like pastries/ And they scream/ The worst things in life come free to us.
The cold winter air bit through the thick coat Molly was wearing. Even if she had lived in England for all of her life, Molly still hated the bitter chills during the cold season. She shivered, having just gotten off the tube and was headed for school. She just had to finish the year, take the exams, and she could go to uni; all she needed was the exam results and an acceptance from them to have her there. Medicine was her desired path, though she knew not of what she would pursue.
She reached the high school she had attended for the past few years and sighed with happiness. Molly entered the warm building and removed her scarf from around her neck, making her way to the library. She didn't have many friends, despite her sweet nature and spent most of her time studying in the library.
Molly sat in her usual seat by a window, watching the snow fall outside while she studied for her chemistry test later that day. It was quiet in the part of the library she sat, and a bit secluded from other tables throughout the room, away from the loud whispers of her richer and more privileged peers.
She heard footsteps approaching her corner and stiffened a bit but never looked up. Molly kept her eyes on her notes, writing down what would help her for later that day. When the footsteps stopped she glanced up, seeing a boy looking at the books on the shelves.
Molly shook her head, deciding to ignore him.
Within a few minutes she grew curious again, glancing up to see the boy sitting in a chair twenty feet from her at a smaller table, studying a book of his own and writing on a sheet of paper.
They stayed like that for the next week. Every day before school and during lunch the two would sit in the secluded corner of the library. After days of just sitting within twenty feet of each other, the boy came up to Molly. When she looked up, he gestured and asked, "May I sit here?"
"You may."
He was gorgeous. Molly never allowed herself to look at him for long but couldn't resist with him right in front of her. His mop of dark hair was curly and looked as if he had raked his fingers through them that morning instead of brushing it. His grey eyes were startling and beautiful, calculating everything they saw at a glance. His uniform was wrinkled and his shirt wasn't tucked into his trousers, as if he had slept in them the night before. He didn't act like the snobbish rich students of the school they attended.
"My name is Molly Hooper," Molly said to him eventually, smiling.
"Sherlock Holmes," he replied curtly with his grey eyes staring into her brown ones. Molly looked down at the table, slightly embarrassed, her eyebrows raised.
"Holmes? As in, Mycroft Holmes?"
Sherlock groaned. "He's my older brother. I know he's made the news quite a bit, but it's astonishing with how many people make the connection, even at their level of stupidity."
Molly bit her lip. "Superiority, eh? I've never had much of that."
"Obviously. I can tell that you got here through some sort of scholarship, being smarter than others and have to keep your grades up. People look down on you here because you aren't rich, nor will you be excessively rich in the future because you want to go into medicine, probably not the type most would look for. Judging by how quiet you are, you would work either in a privet clinic or would work in the morgue with decomposing bodies. Am I wrong?"
She smiled. "I'm not poor, no, but I did have to gain a scholarship just to be here. I do want to be a doctor and I do not have many friends here at all really. And I'm still not sure with where I want to go exactly with my career."
The curly haired man nodded and looked down at his book, continuing to study.
They spent most of their time like that, studying in the secluded corner together with some conversations here and there. Often the two would go and drink coffee together, becoming more and more comfortable for each other. Even with Sherlock's tendencies to do drugs, he tried to keep himself as clean as possible throughout the year (which resulted in him becoming bored and doing it anyways).
After graduating and passing the exams with flying colors the two found themselves as classmates at uni with each other.
The two grew close enough that sometimes Sherlock's words didn't even bother Molly. His deductions could become annoying and insulting after some time, but Molly usually shrugged it off.
"Do you have a date?" Sherlock asked when he came to Molly's dorm one day, stuffing his cigarette pack back into his pocket. He wasn't allowed to be smoking inside but did it anyway to spite all those who lived there.
"You shouldn't be smoking, Sherlock. It smells now and you're going to get lung cancer." He was ushered into her dorm and sat on a chair.
"I will do as I please, Molly. You are not Mycroft or my mother."
"Glad I'm not. You know I don't exactly want children," she had a blank face as she dug through her drawers of clothing. "Elizabeth is dragging me out tonight to a party, says I have to look nice."
"You don't want to go."
"No, I don't."
"Then don't go."
Molly shook her head. She had to go, for Elizabeth. Elizabeth was a friend she had several classes with and found to be an enjoyable friend despite their differences. Elizabeth and a few other girls had convinced her that she needed a break from studying, just for a night, and that she would be back to her frumpy sweaters and ugly trousers by the next morning. Molly reluctantly accepted.
"Sherlock, I haven't been given much of a choice."
"You can choose to say no to Elizabeth you know? She isn't going to judge you if you don't go to some party. Molly, you are studying so that you don't have to type up half-assed essays and fail your exams."
"I know, Sherlock. But, maybe I do need a break from studying."
An hour into the party and Elizabeth and company were all drunk, all except for Molly. She sat in a chair, bored as hell and ready to leave.
"Hey cutie, what's your name?" some blonde idiot asked her, breathing his alcoholic breath into her face.
"Not interested," she said, turning her head.
He smirked. "Now don't be like that, sweetheart. How 'bout I go get you a drink?" He staggered toward the kitchen and Molly made her escape. Outside there were smokers, people snogging, and the occasional druggies. Molly found herself an empty bench and dug through her bag to find her mobile.
"How's the party?"
"Awful, Sherlock. Could you come and get me or meet me somewhere? Some drunk was getting a bit too close for comfort."
"I told you it wasn't the ideal choice. Meet me at the coffee shop." With that the call disconnected and Molly went to go hail a cab.
She eventually reached the coffee shop and found Sherlock sitting at their usual table, two mugs in front of him. "You didn't have to buy coffee for me."
The dark haired man shrugged. "I figured you didn't have any money on you, considering you left your wallet in your dorm room."
He was right. Molly had left her wallet but had enough in her purse to pay the cabbie for the ride. "You notice everything, Sherlock."
"Who would I be if I didn't?"
"Normal and boring, that's what."
He smirked. "Since your night wasn't all they said it would be, how about we go to my dorm? I'm sure we can figure out something to do while there. Maybe I could teach you how to play the violin."
"Sherlock that would result in your ears bleeding due to my lack of musical talent while you were a prodigy."
And he was. His mother had insisted on lessons as a child and Sherlock excelled at the violin while Mycroft always played the piano. Sherlock kept himself in practice, being one of his cures to boredom and found great pleasure in pissing people off in the middle of the night with his excessive practicing. He had nothing to practice for, though, so no one understood why he continued to play.
It helps me think, he would always say.
"I do wish for me ears to not bleed today, Miss Hooper." She chuckled at this.
"Excuse me," Molly heard from behind her. She turned to find an attractive boy standing behind her. He was of an average height with brown hair and lovely blue eyes. He stood with confidence and conviction. "Sorry to interrupt but my name is Michael Davidson. Would you mind if I showed you a magic trick."
"Molly Hooper," she said, biting her lip. Sherlock stayed silent, studying him with grey eyes. "A magic trick would be lovely." Sherlock frowned, but Molly did not see.
Sherlock watched as the boy pulled out a deck of cards, making Molly raise her eyebrows at the cheesy tricks he showed. She smiled and gasped when he went through the motions of trying to impress her with the cheap card tricks. Eventually, after a lot of glaring from Sherlock, the man became a bit uncomfortable.
"Apologies but I must run. Here's my mobile number. Call me sometime." Michael left the shop and Molly turned back to her friend, raising an eyebrow.
"Do you think I should call him?"
"No."
Molly was surprised. "Why not?"
"He's obviously a student at the university with us but isn't very dedicated, relying on cheap card tricks to impress a girl even if it is amusing. He obviously already has a girlfriend that he is planning to break up with and wants to keep his reputation, whatever it may be, most likely with his parents. He entered the store only five minutes after you did and sat alone with just a pastry, meaning he wanted time to think so he could think about how to talk to you. When he heard the conversation of us leaving, he stood and made his way over here. He did not acknowledge me, assuming I was just a friend and proceeded to show off his little tricks and gave you his number instead of asking for yours, assuming you will find him charming enough to do all of the work and ask for the date." Sherlock's long rant came to a stop, him finding himself a bit out of sorts inside. He wasn't used to feelings, nor did he want them. They were a weakness, after all.
"He seemed nice," Molly grumbled, throwing the piece of paper into her purse. Sherlock knew she wouldn't call him, knowing she would've stored his number in her contacts immediately if she was going to call him at any time.
Molly did go with Sherlock to his dorm. It was messy with discarded clothing, paper and books covering the desk, and wrappers and cans everywhere. Molly didn't mind, growing up with two brothers. She sat in his desk chair and said, "Play something for me, Mr. Holmes. I've been dying for some decent music."
He played his violin for her until she fell asleep with her shoes off and legs curled up to her chest. When she wakes up the next morning she is lying on Sherlock's bed and he is nowhere to be seen. Molly looks around the room and it is the same as how he left it the night before, despite the fact that his violin is placed back into the closed case, his one truly treasured possession.
Sherlock walks through the door, carrying coffee cups and a small box of doughnuts. "Ah, glad to see you're up. You fell asleep and I figured it would be better if you stayed here rather than waking you."
Molly was still rubbing her eyes. "You should've woken me, Sherlock. Hand me my bag?" She dug through her bag and found her phone, finding a few messages from Elizabeth on there. She replied that she was tired and didn't have a good time and decided to leave early. Elizabeth had promised her that it would be great, but the party was just awful.
The two friends sat and ate their breakfast on his unmade bed. Molly asked to borrow a shirt, seeing as how she was still wearing the clothing she had worn to the party. Sherlock found a clean shirt (surprising since he had to do laundry later that weekend anyways) and threw it to Molly. She turned and pulled off her shirt, facing away from her friend. The shirt he gave her was long but otherwise fit nicely. Molly figured her jeans would be fine, as they weren't uncomfortable.
Sherlock tried not to look, but seeing her without a shirt on was….different. He had only known Molly for about two years at that time, her being his only friend, and here she was in his dorm. Her back might've been toward him but he saw the lacy bra she wore and how smooth and pale her back was. She pulled on his shirt and it still made him want to stare, her being in his clothing. It wasn't like they had done anything, but Sherlock saw her at this moment as not as little Molly from high school, but the beautiful woman she truly was.
He remembered hearing whispers about her in high school. She had been quiet with very few friends. It was a public school and she had gotten there on a scholarship of sorts for people with less money. People whispered that she had high hopes for such a poor girl, that she would soon be crushed by the world and should just quit. Sherlock had watched her for some of the time he was there, watching her become more discouraged day by day. She wasn't happy, but she still continued on.
He had been expelled from three schools before because he wasn't happy.
But she was, really truly, beautiful.
"Thank you Sherlock."
Now, wasn't that just cute? I thought it was. Well, this is Chapter One and I will be posting Chapter Two soon. I still need to edit and all, but thank you for reading. Please wait and continue to read this. I thank you for your time. Also, a review would be lovely.
Song: The A Team
Artist: Ed Sheeran
I do not own anything.
