Author's Note: WARNING EMPTY HEARSE FEELS ABOUT TO HIT YOU LIKE A BRICK
How could he ever tell her? How would she ever believe him if he did? There they stood in the stairwell. Sherlock knew his time was running out. He wanted very much to let her hair loose and brush his fingers through it.
It's not the fall that kills you…
No, he mustn't; he shouldn't. He wanted to shout from the rooftops that he had been falling for her, but he was afraid. He settled on saying something else, hoping she'd get the true meaning behind his words.
"Moriarty slipped up, he made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn't matter at all to me was the one person that mattered the most. You made it all possible."
He wanted her to catch him…but she wouldn't. His crystalline eyes landed on the sentimental bauble adorning her left ring finger.
…It's the landing.
He felt his heart begin to crack. How had he not noticed before?
"But you can't do this again, can you?" he asked knowingly.
All of the words he wanted to say were kept inside simply because he was afraid to say them. He listened as she rambled on about her betrothed's dog, friends and family.
"I hope you'll be very happy, Molly Hooper." Even if it's not with me. "You deserve it." More than you know. So he smiles for her. He kisses her cheek, desperately wishing he could touch her lips.
"After all, not all the men you fall for turn out to be sociopaths." He walks away.
"Maybe it's just my type," Molly says to him but more to herself. She would always love him, she knew. He had invited her for chips. Maybe if she caught up to him now. She walks out the door, putting her gloves over her hands and looks down the street he turned.
Molly watched as he walked in brisk London air, snow flurrying around the city. The choice she makes now would forever alter her life. Follow him, have chips and perhaps have the future she always dreamed of with Sherlock Holmes, her sweet consulting detective. Or she could go the other way and stay at home for the rest of the night, marry Tom and have the perfect life. But what if perfect wasn't what she wanted? Maybe she wanted to have a few domestics here and there. Maybe she wanted to deal with Sherlock's infuriating qualities simply because she loved them.
She considered going after him, taking a tentative step in his direction. She wanted to tell him everything: the way she felt for him and how he makes her feel safe. But Molly was afraid and so she went home, mentally kicking herself. It's for the best. She knew it was a lie.