We all know how it began. I assume you've read my blog. If not, I can tell you.
It all started at St Barts'. During an experiment (I can only assume). With Mike Stamford, the fucking bastard. I walked (okay, limped) in, and he hardly took notice unil he was damn-well ready. We made eye contact. I tried not to panic.
Jesus, did I really know from that moment how fucked I was?
I may have.
It was his eyes mainly, that gave me that initial reaction. Sharp and bright, like ice glinting in the sun. Shit, how to do them real justice- are there even words available to describe them? Or even what colour they are? I've come to the conclusion that maybe they don't even have a colour. Maybe they just read our minds, form an illusion based on what we think. Disguise themselves and hide, ever elusive, like the man himself. I can tell you one thing though, his eyes have never been brown. I can be certain of that. They're too light, too brilliant for such a muddy colour. His eyes are like gems...
Wow. Two similies in one paragraph, just of his eyes.
Shows you how far I'm gone, yeah?
Then- Jesus, I haven't even gotten to the rest of him yet.
But I assume I'll cover all of that later. Back to Barts'.
I let him borrow my phone without a second's hesitation. Probably a mistake, since now he thinks he can use all of my things whenever he pleases. And a few of those things may be in my pants pockets at the time.
That time, though, he actually returned my phone when he was through with it, followed by some brilliant deduction only he could pull off. I was... impressed to say the least. I also wanted to wipe that smug grin off of Stamford's face. I think he knew what he started that day.
Actually, I am quite positive he knew.
That bastard. Remind me to get him back for it later.
And of course, after showing off, the Great Sherlock Holmes finished by wrapping that delicious neck up in that scarf, turning his coat collar up so he looked cool, then just left. Vanished out the door. But not before he asked me to live with him. And we absolutely can not forget that wink he casually threw my way.
Each and every one of you can probably guess what happened next.
I moved in.
I looked around the flat not two seconds before I knew it was my new home.
I think he knew it too.
I don't think he would have had it any other way.
Which makes it so much worse.