AN: Posting chapter two as well tonight because it was done but that'll be it for tonight due to another one of my stories needing my attention.

Addicted

Chapter 2: The Flatmate

We both walked into the mortuary of Bart's when I saw him. He was inspecting a body, measuring bruises on the body in front of him with a curious gaze. My eyes narrowed slightly as I looked at the body. The bruising didn't look normal. On the contrary, examining the table by it, I found the item that probably caused it. It was a black riding crop. By the time I looked back up from the body, I noticed his eyes on me, examining before looking back down at the body in front of him.

"Ah, sorry about the body Eve, let me—" Mike said, reaching for the sheet to cover the body before he was suddenly cut off by the man in front of him.

"Mike, is your phone still in your coat?" he asked as Mike smiled in return.

"Sorry, still in my coat pocket." He replied to which the man only replied with a dissatisfied face and a sigh towards the body he was still examining.

"Here, take mine." I replied, unbuttoning my coat and getting my phone out of my pocket, handing it to him to which he only gave a slight smile and a thanks in return.

"This is my newest friend, Evelynn Styles. She just moved here." Mike stated as the man simply typed out a text message to someone, not seeming to put any interest into what Mike was saying.

"Mike, out." He said in a quick reply, looking up from my phone for a moment. Before I could question it, Mike obeyed quickly and without hesitation.

"Why did you—" I started as he walked up to me.

"You barely know him and this info could be misinterpreted by him." He stated in a more bored tone before he handed me my phone.

"Law or criminals?" He questioned as my eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't think I understand what your question—" I started before he interrupted yet again.

"Are you on the run from the law, or criminals? It's a simple question really." He finished with a slightly amused look.

My heart skipped a beat. How on earth could he know? My mouth opened to try and respond but nothing came out. I tried to avoid his eyes at all costs, but they seemed to bore into me.

"Criminals. It's… personal. I'd rather not talk—" I started yet again before he butted in again.

"How do you feel about the violin?" He questioned as I was left to try and piece together what on earth he was talking about.

"What?" I managed to stammer out.

"I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometimes I talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flat mates should know the worst about each other." He said as he flashed a smile.

What was this man's problem?! He casually brought up something about my past that no one knew and then casually back tracked to talk about becoming flatmates? Second off, how did he even know about the flatmate idea? Who was this man? Taking a deep breath, I decided to venture back into the conversation at hand.

"That's perfectly fine, I play piano. Also, who said anything about flatmates?" I questioned as he turned his attention back to me.

"I did. I mentioned the subject to Mike this morning and talked to our other flatmate just a few minutes ago. I also mentioned how it'd be better if we could find a third and not moments later, Mike shows up with you. Someone who just moved to London and is on the run from powerful people. Not wanting to have your name on all the housing papers, the logical choice is to have it surrounded by other names. It also saves money which you just spent a lot by disappearing." He finished as he picked up the riding crop and started to walk out.

"How do you know all about me?" I questioned defensively as he passed by me.

"I found a nice place in central London. With all three of us, we should easily be able to afford it. We'll all meet tomorrow evening at 7 o' clock." He said as he put his hand on the door handle.

"We barely know each other and we're now going to be flat mates?" I asked as I spun around to face him. He stopped for a moment before turning and walking back in front of me.

"Problem?" He questioned as I gave a small laugh to which he responded with a smile.

"We don't know each other at all, I don't know where we're meeting, and I don't even know your name." I replied as the man in front of me looked away before making direct eye contact again.

"I know you're on the run from other criminals, as well as the law, but that's probably secondary. You don't fear the law, possibly because they don't know you exist, more likely that you feel that what you do gives out justice. I know that you wish you were a cop, chances are though that you tried and you just didn't get the same thrill. I also know that although you tried to meet the wishes of your boyfriend to get out, the real reason is the injury sustained to your shoulder. You'd love to be over it all, but you're an addict. You want to go back because you can't get enough. That's enough to be going on, don't you think?" he finished his speech as I was left breathless as he tore me apart piece by piece. He knew everything. Before I could even recover from being stunned, he walked to the door and opened it before looking back at me.

"Names Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221 B Baker Street." He finished with a wink and a smirk before walking out of the mortuary and leaving me to my own thoughts.