So, I'm Kinda Dating a Consulting Detective...
A series of one-shots strung together as chapters of the adventures of Persephone Taylor and her on again/off again relationship with the World's Only Consulting Detective.
My name is Persephone Taylor, but everyone (including myself) calls me Posy. Well, almost everyone.*
I'm a little over 5 feet tall and have a few more jiggly bits than I'd like, but overall I'm a normal looking 27-year-old. I have very dark hair, it's practically black, but just yesterday I lightened the ends in this new "ombre" trend, and I have to say, I love it. I have very pale skin, but a lot of freckles in a lot of places. I dabble in a medley of creative things, but I guess I could say I'm a graphic designer since that title allows me to keep my house with some food on the table and liquor in the cabinet. I'm kind of a mess, all the time, but overall life has been pretty good to me. I like to think I'm quite intelligent but realistically I'm not winning any Nobel Peace Prizes.
My life got infinitely more interesting about 6 months ago. I was involved in this serial killer case and although that part was terrible, and I accidentally ended up sort of OD-ing on a brand new kind of drug, it was that one event in my life that changed it forever. I met the "World's Only Consulting Detective." His name is Sherlock Holmes and when he's not being a total arrogant ass, we're kind of dating.
I should include his friend (he would say 'colleague') Doctor John Watson. John is a pleasure, an absolute joy. He's kind and funny and simply adorable. John asked me out once and for some reason I decided to hold out for his tall, mysterious, handsome, and jerk-off flatmate. Did I mention my life's often a mess? It usually has to do with some stupid decision-making.
In case you didn't realize, as of right now, I am NOT involved with the detective. Trying to be in a relationship with him is...interesting. You've probably heard about him in the papers since as of late he's become quite famous. He's known for being a bit brash and rude, while also incredibly brilliant. Well, let's just say that it's a struggle to really get to see his softer side.
While we were involved in the case I guess some sparks were set off (I have heard that being in life-threatening situations can do that). I thought our relationship would end once the case was closed, but it was Sherlock who decided to keep this thing going. In hindsight I should have declined, but in my defense, he brought ice cream.
After that things went on pretty much the same as always. It was not like a fairytale where I was swept off into the sunset and everything was happily-ever-after. It was more like he left, went on doing what he does, and texted me more often. Sometimes he'd summon me to his flat where I would sit on a chair as he laid on the couch, thinking. A couple times we even went out to dinner, and then I'd get dropped off at home as he went to experiment at Bart's or stake out a crime scene, or something.
The most relationship-y Sherlock has ever been is at night. He'll let himself into my house without notice and then just kind of sit with me watching telly or sometimes (these were my favorite) he'd come by after I was already asleep and just slip right into bed. Although kind of bizarre, it's always a pleasure waking up beside a sleeping Sherlock. To be honest, it's when he looks most human.
Some couples are really against PDA and honestly, I'm not very lovey-dovey myself, but it's impossible for others to even consider we're a couple. No hand holding (unless we're running around the city-chasing someone or something), definitely no kissing, no hugging, I don't even get affectionate glances. The straw that broke the camel's back, however, was last week, over dinner.
We had gone out with John and his current girlfriend, Mary, and someone named Stamford with his girlfriend (good Lord, I have no idea what her name was.) Well, it was a miracle Sherlock even agreed to go, but John and I insisted and I think promises were made. Once out, I got a bit excited that maybe we'd be a proper couple-smiling, laughing, the whole shebang.
Well, no. Sherlock, ever the social pariah, spent the entire evening texting on his mobile. John and Stamford poked fun at him, and I covered with the usual "You know how he is..." But then, Mary, who is really a very sweet girl, told Sherlock that he should spend more time paying attention to his lovely girlfriend.
Instead of ignoring her, or brushing her off as he usually does, Sherlock took the bait. "Persephone is not my girlfriend," he said matter-of-factly. Then he excused himself from the evening, dropping enough cash to cover HIS plate, and left.
Just. Like. That.
I've obviously complained to John enough and he suggested maybe talking to his therapist, or at least keeping a diary to keep things in perspective. This is what I'm doing now.
Dear Diary, I was dating Sherlock Holmes for 125 days. We decided to call it quits last week, and so it has been 6 days since I've been with him.
And, as angry as I am, I may be having withdrawals.
Shit, fuck, dammit.
* Obviously, Sherlock can't just call me Posy. He only refers to me by my full name, Persephone. I would hate it if he didn't make it sound so freaking sexy.
