Chapter 28
I flopped on the bed, tired. Jim entered the room after me, him looking tired and all. "Hey, darling." Jim said, kissing me.
"Um, Jim, we were just having sex in a pond barely two hours ago."
"It felt like an eternity." Jim pouted, looking ridiculously like a six year old child who couldn't get ice cream.
"Don't be a drama queen, sweetie." I rolled my eyes at him, rolling over to make room for him on the bed.
"Oh, yes, I shouldn't. It's your duty to be the drama queen, not me."
"Oh ha ha." I said, feigning irritation. Jim kissed my neck, sucking gently on the skin. "Nope, I'd like some sleep for once!" I said, pushing him away.
"But why? Don't you like this?" Jim asked, that pout showing again.
"I do, but I'll be so tired in the morning, and I'd like to wake up at eight am for once." I said.
"Fine. I'll go sleep on the couch then." Jim said. He left the room, slamming the door behind him. "Are you fucking serious?" I sighed, exasperated. I got up and padded to where Jim was, on the couch. I stood in front of him, like a mother scolding her child. Which is somewhat similar to this. "Jim, don't be ridiculous." He wasn't looking at me. "Jim, darling, I'm serious. I'd like some sleep. And I don't want cervical cancer." Still no answer.
"James Isaac Moriarty, you better answer me, or I will walk out that-" I was cut off by him pulling me downwards onto his lap, and him kissing me feverishly.
"You're never going to leave me. You promised." He said, his voice raspy and low. Incredibly sexy too.
"Then why do you do things that makes me think that is the best choice for both of us?" My question threw him off the loop.
"I don't know, Sherry." He said after a long silence.
"You make me so doubtful of you. Do you even have a heart?" I asked, a little harsh there. I knew he was hurt, judging by his facial expression. He made a face, like 'Ouch'.
"God, Sherry! Are you fu-"
"Everything you do, is either because you were bored, or you needed some distractions from your current problems! You always run, Jim! You always run and never come back!"
He grabbed my wrists. "I never come back, you said? Then tell me, who had to die, only to come back two years later because he was too in love with this bitch who only knew to be selfish and bastardly?!" Ouch. Double ouch.
I yanked my wrists away from him. "You don't mean that. You don't mean that!" I wagged a finger at him. Pissed off.
"It's true! All I do is give you everything, but you say it's not enough! If I gave you my heart, and told you to destroy it, you would, because you claim to be oh-so-controlled by me!" Oh look, my tears are back, pouring down like a waterfall. Reminded me of that song by Coldplay, Every Teardrop is a Waterfall.
"You gave me 'everything'?! You took me from a life I loved! You stole me from my family, and friends, and you think I appreciated that?! Oh, what else did you take? You took my hand and you pushed me into this never-ending abyss where I can never get back up, because you were never there to help me! You took my virginity and replaced it with an unborn baby who was conceived by lies and trickery! And you took my heart, and crushed it with your own feet, and set it on fire, just before putting tape over it! You thought you gave me everything? Try seeing how much you took from me and think again!" I spat, storming off to the stairs to get to my room.
"Get back here!" Jim yelled. He followed me and grabbed my arm, yanking me to stare right at his beautifully cold eyes. "Don't you dare leave me again."
"Oh, I'm the one that left?! Who was the one dead for two years?! Definitely wasn't me!" I tried to get away, but his grip on me was too strong.
"At least I didn't try to commit suicide!" Ouch. Again.
"YOU GAVE ME NO CHOICE!" I yelled back at him. He was silent. He freed my wrists and I stomped up the stairs and slammed the door to my room. I sat on my bed, my tears flowing freely. "FUCK YOU MORIARTY!" I screamed as hard as I could, making sure he would hear it.
Then I burst into a sobbing mess. And I stayed that way.
Molly and I are engaged. I know, I should've told Sherlock and Sherry by now, but they both weren't answering their phones. I knew Sherlock wouldn't answer his, unless it's Sherry, or some other people. But Sherry, she loves her phone, and I'm sure she'd be going everywhere with it. Maybe Moriarty's been keeping her busy.
So of course it took me by surprise when I answered the phone and it was Sherry calling. "Hey, I tried calling you a couple of times, but you didn't pick up." I said.
"Yeah? Sorry about that. I've got something to tell you."
"Oh, me too!"
"Good, I'm right outside your door, actually." Molly was out, working at St. Bart's Hospital, and she won't be back until late. I went to the door, and opened it.
Sherry looked like a mess. Her hair was a bit messy, her eyes were red, from crying, I think. And I also noticed the bag. She must've moved out from Moriarty's mansion. But why? Then I realized how stupid I was. Here I was, thinking of my own happiness with the love of my life, and Sherry was crying.
"Come in, you don't want to look like Bloody Mary out there. We've got some really superstitious neighbours." I tried to joke, but she barely cracked a smile. She entered gratefully, dumping her bag on the floor next to the door. "Tea?" I offered.
"Tea, Sherrinford's answer to everything." She rolled her eyes at me. "But yes, please."
"Molly's out, she's working." I said, hoping to make conversation. How do you steer clear of a topic that you want to talk about, but then you'd hurt your sister's feelings? Not that she would be jealous of our happiness, but then she just moved out of bloody Moriarty's house, so it must be something terrible.
I handed her the tea, and sat next to her on the couch. She sipped it politely. Then she set it down on the coffee table, clearly about to talk. "I'm really sorry for troubling you for coming here, but I had nowhere to go. Sherlock would just say 'forget him, he's an idiot', just like how he said it to me whenever a guy was being an asshole. Mycroft couldn't care less, and I can't go to our parents either, I'm supposed to be dead."
"So you came to me. It's really no trouble at all, I hardly see my own sister anymore, and besides, I've got nothing to do at home." I said, reassuring her.
"Okay. Well, Jim and I had a fight. Again. We both said some nasty things, and it ended with me yelling and crying. So I decided to leave for good." She said, indicating the bag.
"I can't say I'm happy, or even disappointed. What you did is what you want to do. But thank god you did, he was never your kind of guy."
"But I loved him, and I still do." She said.
"Ah." Of course. The hamartia. Her fatal flaw was that she loved him too much, it destroys her, mentally. "I'm not a love expert, but from my experience, I can tell girls tend to be in love with that guy until he pushes her away. And unless he somehow gets rid of his love for you, then you're stuck."
"Urgh!" She groaned, punching a pillow. It was one of the pillows Molly used when she wants to lie down on the couch. "Why is love so bloody hard?!"
"The harder it is, the better is the chance for you to know if he's the one." I reasoned.
"How would I know if he's the one?" She asked me, her eyebrows raised.
"If he crawls back to you multiple times, then he's the one. He'd be too in love with you to even think of leaving. He will always come back. And vice versa." I told her. She seemed convinced.
"But I've broken up with him. And I want to get a divorce." Jesus Christ, Sherry! Were you even listening to what I just said?!
"Uh, do you even know how to get a divorce?" I asked her.
"Of course." She nodded.
"Then you do know that it takes months to get everything done, and by then I'm pretty sure you both would come crawling back to each other and then making out against the kitchen counter." I blushed. We did that once, and Sherrinford saw. It was pretty awkward.
"Then what do you suggest I do?" She asked me, exasperated.
"Do something that distracts you from him." I told her.
"I can't do anything without my mind drifting off to Jim. I'm in too deep here. Is there anything I could do to get Jim out of my mind?" Now's the perfect time to tell her! Go!
"Well, you could help plan our wedding..." I said slowly. Her expression of exasperation changed into pure happiness. She punched me in the arm.
"Sherrinford! Why didn't you tell me?! Oh my god, how could you!" She started to gush. "Where did you ask her? How did you ask her? What's she gonna wear? When's the wedding reception? Who's coming? Who's the best man? Bridesmaids? Colour theme? I suggest some sort of blue, it looks perfect on the two of you!" She fired questions at me like a machine gun.
"Sherry, calm down! We haven't planned much, and we were planning on calling you. I remember you said something last year, that you wanted to be a wedding planner if writing or acting doesn't work out."
"Oh my god, yeah, I remember! I can't believe it! This is gonna be so much fun!" She gushed. Thank god the subject of me getting married managed to keep her thoughts away from Jim.
I smirked at her as she rambled on about the planning. "I've got to find the perfect place, the perfect date, perfect wedding dress, perfect suit, perfect colour theme, perfect flowers, perfect everything! Sherrinford, don't let Molly pick pink, it doesn't suit her at all! Yellow nope, purple kinda but it brings out her frail figure, red is a little too much...Oh god, I've drifted off haven't I?" I couldn't contain my grin.
"Yeap. You look so funny when you're overthinking."
"Whatever, Sherrinford." She rolled her eyes at me, but she was smiling.
We spent the rest of the day talking about various topics, one of them being the book she just bought, the Queen, the new Jaguar car that she thinks I should buy...And other things. Then Molly arrived. "Sherrinford, I'm home!" Molly called out.
"Molly, look who's here!" Molly came into the living room and spotted Sherry.
"Sherry!" She exclaimed and gave her a crushing hug. They're both huggers. It's like Huggers Unite. "How have you been?! I haven't seen you in ages! Poor Sherrinford though you dead for a bit!" Sherry gave me a sideways glance, and I shrugged.
"We Holmeses are quite tough to kill off. We always come back." Sherry grinned.
"Yes, well, that was a very nice trick you guys pulled off." Molly coughed. Change the subject! Sherry briefly explained what appened between Jim and her, and Molly understood, letting her have our guest room. Then Sherry popped the question. No, not The Question, as in, the question.
"So, Molly..." Sherry started, drawing out the 'so'. "When were you going to tell me?" She asked innocently.
Molly was perplexed for only a moment before realizing what Sherry meant. "You told her?" She asked me. I nodded, hoping she won't flip out. "I should've told you, Sherry! But then again, you didn't pick up the phone, and we couldn't exactly waltz into Moriarty's home. Oh, here's the ring!" She showed off the golden band on her ring finger to Sherry. I saw Sherry's eyes widened, and she was in awe.
"It's beautiful!" She exclaimed. "And it suits you well! It must have cost a fortune!" Sherry raised an eyebrow at me.
"If it gets me the love of my life, then it's worth it." I said. Molly cooed and kissed me. Sherry faked a gagging motion as she watched us, kissing in front of her. Ha! Pay back for all the times she had Moriarty's tongue down her throat!
"You guys are just so cute together." Sherry sighed, gazing at us like a girl watching the stars in a starstruck way. That doesn't even make any sense...but you get the point.
"She's mostly doing the cute part." I said, earning laughter from Sherry and a blush from Molly.
"Look at you both! You're already talking like a married couple!" Sherry giggled.
"Said the married girl." I countered.
"We fight like a married couple, because we are." Sherry stuck her tongue out at me. Very childish, but then I stuck my tongue at her, too. Who said we can't be a little childish sometimes? There is not a written law about a grown adult wticking out their tongues like a five year old! Look at Miley Cyrus for example. Okay, no, that's a bad example.
"Oh my god. Is it 2 am already?" Molly yawned.
"Darling, either you need glasses or you're too tired. It's barely 12!" I tutted. She needs to rest! "Come one, sweetheart, I'll get you into bed. Sherry, you going to sleep yet?" I asked Sherry.
She nodded, and yawned. Their sleeping game is barely enough. I have insomnia, and so does Sherry, but I think she'll be reading in her temporary room or something. Sherry staggered into the guest room, while I tried to get Molly into bed, but she's already fallen asleep on the couch. Does this happen to women all the time? The whole 'I'm-so-tired-to-get-in-bed' thing?
I slid a hand around her waist, securing her before lifting her up into my arms. Her head lolled against my chest. She looked so peaceful sleeping. Her hair was covering a part of her face, and yet I still think she looks beautiful. I have spent one too many days staring at her, memorizing every inch of her beautiful face. And I'm not intending to stop.
I let her gently down onto the bed. I pulled the covers over her. My beautiful Molly. What would I do without her?
I slept on my side, tired and depressed. Jim was a dick for saying that, but I was the bitch he said I was. As much as I blamed Jim, I will always blame myself even more for letting him in. I was a stupid, foolish girl, and I took his bait. He loves to play with the ones he claimed to be 'interesting'. But I wasn't one of them. I was just a little someone who happened to be the sister of one of the interesting people, and I was nothing special. The love of my life, probably had other so-called 'love of your life'. There's no such thing. Everyone has a few 'love of your life' which they think is special, but it's really not. It's just something romantics made up, because they were so lonely and they needed hope.
Without realizing, I had tears streaming down my face, and not before long, I was sobbing quietly onto my pillow, hoping that Sherrinford and Molly couldn't hear me crying. I don't want to be that depressed girl in a wedding. It's terrible, and I need to keep a happy face for the happy couple, even if I'm dying inside. Because no matter how hurt I am, I always have to wear the metaphorical mask to hide from the eyes of people that might suspect.
I continued to sob a bit, the tears staining my pillow. I'm so devastated by what he said. I kept replaying the fight over and over again. I couldn't get the look on his face when he said it. It was like he had no regrets when he said it. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought it was one of his drunken rages. But he wasn't drunk that night, and I know him too well to know that him being drunk has a slight chance of offending, but his actual rage, could make a grown man cry and bury himself in a hole where he would never get out. That's where I am right now, the literal hole. I'm in that hole, crying and sobbing and screaming, because the love of my life was being my worst nightmare. He was my nightmare, dressed like a daydream, and I fell for it, just like how I fell for every other thing he does that wasn't particularly right.
I was a foolish little girl, and I have no regrets whatsoever.