It was raining outside but not the cold miserable downpour London was famous for. It was summer rain, a bit warm and for a change welcome after the hot spell they had suffered.
Molly had entered the kitchen to put on the kettle but instead of joining him in the living room, she stood by her kitchen window. The same spot where he had once seen her sad and weighted down. Now she had a small smile on her face as she reverently held the tea mug, sighing with pleasure as a few drops of rain splattered and dropped on her face.
Sherlock wished he had his violin with him right then. There was a tune playing through him at the site of the quietly content woman by her kitchen window. The notes were swirling around him, taking him on a light-hearted journey, weaving around him patterns that felt personal and resonated with his heartbeats. He felt as if these notes were emitted from Molly herself.
There was joy on her face as she took enjoyment in the simple act of having a hot drink indoors as it rained outside. She had a glow that reflected her inner contentment and happiness.
Sherlock felt he would do anything to protect that, to ensure that the emotion continued.
He approached her, ignoring the look of protest on her face as he took the mug from her hand and kept it on the counter. Taking her hand in his and placing his other around her waist, he slowly but deftly moved about the small space. Molly looked surprised but followed his lead. They moved to the silent tune being played in the detective's head, upping their tempo as the notes seemed to flow fast and with certainty until they reached a crescendo and slowly seemed to fall as leaves in autumn, leaving a wonderful silence in their wake.
"There's no silence when I'm around you. Its music. And its beautiful."
She translated his words, filed them away. He was still not able to say it easily, but he found new and different ways to convey the emotion. She was always happy to receive them.
"I love you too," was her simple response.