"I'm so sorry..Sherlock..but's it's who you are." Molly spoke these words, which began to sting inside Sherlock's head. He began to spin around, examining his surroundings quickly. Molly was a pretty woman – she knew Sherlock as much as his best friend, John, knew him. She had strawberry blonde hair which flowed down to her shoulders, and extended just below her back, and was wearing a white lab-coat, which was, as far as Sherlock knew, her only attire. "But I can't go back. Not now. What if I get bored on the way? O-or…?" Molly laughed quickly, causing Sherlock to become puzzled.
As soon as she noticed he had a content glare on her, she backed away, realizing in Sherlock's young eyes, that he did not even realize the true pain of what he was going to experience. "Never mind. I have to be somewhere else now. Say, Sherlock, why don't you come to the pub?" – "Tomorrow, or Sunday, or..?", Sherlock exclaimed. Molly replied, "I don't know. I'm just worried if we pick the wrong time..John might get annoyed." Sherlock picked up his velvet purple coat, which, as he wrapped around his arms, warmed him, a feeling he knew all too well. Molly glanced forwards, brushing her hair back from her head.
"So, tomorrow, seven, seven thirty..? Is that OK with you?" Sherlock said. He quickly looked around, before bringing back his arm, viewing his golden, reflective watch. He smiled at the thought that ir reminded him of John. "7:30. Not bad. Not long now, either." Molly said. At this point he appeared to make Molly seem puzzled, but, she quickly dealt with it; living with Sherlock for all she knew was like living inside a madman's head. "I'm a sociopath, not a madman!" he said, snapping and hissing at Molly like a snake who was nearing its prey. "A w-what? Sherlock, how…did you know I was thinking about…?" Molly asked. By now, she was leaning on the second desk, which carried chemicals and a puzzling, green-coloured juice.
At the same point, a yellow glow seemed to emit from Sherlock's eyes. Molly quickly gasped, but stopped immediately, already frightened at the current situation, and not wanting something else to intrude in this "third" encounter. 'Yeah, good, good, seven's good'. Molly soon ushered out of the room, glancing towards several more objects.
Sherlock followed suit, and began to walk out as well. 'Is this where I'm really going, then?', Sherlock mumbled. He began to march forwards one last time, before noticing a small, bronze fob-watch which sat quietly on one of the desks. It emitted a brightly lit amber hue which illuminated the room; He became delightfully colluded to the view. All of a sudden, Molly's voice soon became clear and snapped him out of his trance. 'Sherlock, you coming or what? I'm standing cold right out here, and no woman would agree to that.' Molly said. 'Of course, Mol.' Sherlock uttered this final words under his breath, before leaving the lab for once, and the clouds appeared to settle while swirling high above.