Give His Heart a Break.
Authors Note: OK! Second attempt at writing this chapter; I'm still tired but I've eaten and I've got coke in my system. So, hopefully, this means I'll be alive! ;D Anyways, thank-you for all your lovely reviews; they give me such energy to write. They make me want to write. So, thank-you. Over the 150 line, it's just amazing. Enough rambling from me, on with the writing!
Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously. ;)
Chapter Sixteen: Realising Is Never Easy.
One month and two weeks had passed since the incident at the tailors.
Molly and Sherlock had both feigned ignorance on the subject.
However, in Molly's thoughts the demon often crept up on her, its head peeking out.
She did her best to ignore it.
She didn't speak to a soul about what had happened and her feelings on it.
Since that day, Sherlock had kept to his word and often came with her on trips for everything and anything to do with the wedding.
Not today though.
She refused it.
He couldn't be here today.
He didn't understand why.
She thought he had seemed rather annoyed when she had refused him.
As of current, she was standing in a small bridal shop.
Dress after dress decorating the small boutique.
She never thought she would be a girl affected by the sight of wedding dresses.
But as she stood in the midst of the modest shop, she found herself squealing inside of her head.
Heaven.
She was in heaven.
She snapped her attention to her mother and sister, they were going crazy as they searched the rails, taking in every dress they saw and liked; they seemed to have forgotten they were looking for Molly and not themselves.
Molly laughed and began to search through her own row of dresses.
They were all beautiful in their own way, but nothing stood out.
Nothing was her.
She sighed.
This was what it was going to be like.
She'd never find that spot on, perfect one.
"Molly!" Her sister squealed.
Molly looked towards her and visibly winced at what she saw the younger girl holding.
The dress was, in simple terms, a princess style.
Molly studied it in her sister's arms.
It was a brilliant white that hurt her eyes, with a corset style bodice; it shimmered under the lights in the shop as it was littered with diamonds and pearl coloured beads. It flared out from the hips and fell right down to the ground in the greatest puff Molly had ever seen.
"Oh please try it on, Mols!"
Molly looked to her pleading sister and bit her lip.
That was what she had come here for, to try on dresses.
She sighed and nodded her head.
She extended her arms out to take the dress from her.
Molly's sister clapped her hands in excitement.
Molly, awkwardly, trudged her way to the changing rooms and heaved the dress inside one of them.
She stripped herself off her clothes and shimmed herself in to the dress.
"I need help!" She called through the door, before opening it.
Her sister came to her side and in an instant was tying the corset back up.
Molly stared at herself in the mirror in surprise.
The dress really wasn't her.
But, she looked amazing in it.
She felt like a princess.
Wasn't that how you were supposed to feel on your wedding day?
She bit her lip as she held herself in and let her sister pull tight at the strings.
Her mother came round the corner with another dress in her hands.
"Oh Molly, darling!" She exclaimed, coming to stand beside her.
"You look gorgeous!"
Molly smiled.
It may not have been her but she felt wonderful in it.
"Thank-you."
She gnawed at her lip.
She was trying to imagine her day.
She couldn't quite see herself walking down the aisle to Sh—John in this dress.
She frowned at the thought she'd nearly had.
Why had she nearly had that thought?
It had been so long since the last one.
She was marrying John, not him.
She wanted to marry John.
She loved John.
They were going to be together.
They were going to have a family together.
They were going to have a life together.
He was going to be nothing but a faint memory.
Well, that wasn't exactly true.
He was John's best friend; he would always be there.
But, her crush on him would just be a faint memory.
They was the plan.
The plan couldn't fail.
It had been going great until that damn day at the tailors.
He'd looked so good.
He'd looked better than he usually did.
And Sherlock Holmes always looked gorgeous.
He just kept popping up in her thoughts at the worst possible time after that day.
She couldn't even control them.
John and she had been kissing the other day and all she could think of was what it would be like to kiss Sherlock while he was in his goddamned groomsman suit.
It was wrong.
She just didn't know how to stop it.
She sighed and looked down.
Her mother looked towards her.
"What's wrong, dear?"
Molly shrugged her shoulders.
She didn't want to talk about it.
"It's not the right dress, Mum."
Molly's mother smiled at her, as if she understood perfectly well what was going on.
"You'll find one soon, my darling. It just takes time."
Molly nodded and looked up.
A forced smile on her lips.
Her mother didn't notice.
"Look what I found. How about I untie this one and you go and try this on."
Molly's eyes slipped to the dress in her mother's hand and she frowned.
It was awful.
It wasn't even pretty.
It was an A-line, champagne coloured dress.
Like the one previous, the bodice was decorated in embellishments of all sorts and the lower half of the dress was scrunched up in a style that gave it the look of being ruffle covered.
She wanted to be sick.
She said nothing and let her mother do as she pleased.
Once the dress was undone in the back, she slipped it off and padded her way back to the changing room, the new dress in hand.
She climbed in to the dress and pulled it up, doing up the zip at the side.
She frowned.
At least she had felt like royalty in the previous one.
Now she felt out of place.
She bent down to her bag and pulled out her phone.
I need you. –MH
He took seconds to reply.
I told you they'd be fools. –SH
She rolled her eyes at the message before texting back.
Come, please? –MH
She looked in to the changing rooms mirror while waiting for a reply.
Her mother had disturbingly disgusting taste.
Already in the cab. –SH
She smiled and moved out of the changing room.
She came to stand by the three floor length mirrors by the changing area, glaring at her reflection.
"Really, mum? Really?"
Her mother's eyes widened as she took in the sight of her daughter.
"Molly! You look stunning! I say, this is the one!"
Before Molly could reply, her sister came bustling around the corner; in her arms there was another princess style dress.
"Mol-" Molly cut her off and held up her hand to them.
"That's it!" She cried out, turning to face them.
"Leave! Both of you leave! You're not looking for me. You're looking for yourselves! I want to look alone!"
They frowned at her and tried to say something but she got there before them.
"Leave, I said!"
Without another word, they both left.
Molly turned back to look at her reflection.
What on earth was she going to do?
Everything was a mess.
She couldn't find the right dress.
She wasn't even sure if she was doing the right thing anymore.
John was an amazing man.
She wanted to move on.
She knew she loved him.
Perhaps not as much as his best friend.
But, she loved him.
She could move on with him.
She could be happy with him.
Or so she had thought.
But now all he ever did was prod at her mind.
She couldn't get through a day without a thought of him.
Todays had been the worst.
She'd gone a whole month without thinking it was him she was marrying.
That had just come crashing down.
It just had to come crashing down while she was searching for the dress she'd be wearing as she walked on to her future with John.
She sighed and shook her head.
She had to stop concentrating on this.
She was here to find herself a dress.
That was what was important today.
"Exactly as I predicted; you look terrible."
Molly's eyes glanced up in to the mirror and she gave him a soft, sad smile.
"It's disgusting, really." She murmured.
Her eyes fell to the fabric in his hand.
Unlike the two her sister had thrown at her, it wasn't in the style of a princess dress. It, thankfully, wasn't that awful champagne colour nor did it have a style that reminded her off an awful eighties wedding gown.
This one was white, like her sister's choices, but it didn't hurt her eyes with the glare of the colour; it was a soft white. It fell straight and she assumed it would reach calve length. The sleeves were solely made of lace while the body of the dress was made of a heavy, white fabric; Molly couldn't name, and covered in the same lace that decorated the arms. Before it reached calve length, it was trimmed with lace, the heavy material missing.
"What's that?" She nodded to the dress in the mirror.
"It's a wedding gown, Molly." Sherlock stated, trying his best not to roll his eyes at her oblivious behaviour.
"I know that. Why do you have it?"
"Molly, why would I be holding a wedding gown?"
"For me?"
"Isn't that why you demanded my presence here."
She turned to face him, lifting the dress she was wearing up from the floor.
She walked towards him, staring at the dress in his hands.
"It's beautiful, Sherlock."
She reached a hand out to finger the material.
She was in awe.
"Why don't you try it on, Molly?"
Her mouth went dry.
How had he known this was her?
Her own mother and sister hadn't even known.
She looked up at him; her eyes were filled with tears.
His eyebrows knotted together in confusion.
Was she about to cry?
Why was she about to cry?
This was ridiculous!
It was only a dress.
"Oh Sherlock!" She threw herself in to his arms.
He caught her and he embraced her, instantly.
He no longer held back.
He cared about her.
She knew that.
Why hide it from her?
He said nothing as he held her.
"The dress… it's just… it's everything I'm looking for."
He pulled back to look at her.
"You haven't even tried it on yet."
She looked up at him, a serious look in her eyes.
He didn't quite understand the solid look there.
Once again, he thought, it was only a dress!
"I know it's perfect, Sherlock."
He held it out to her.
"Try it on."
She nodded and took it from his hands.
"Do you need help getting out of this one?"
Her cheeks reddened as she looked at him.
She suddenly felt shy in his presence.
"It's only a zip. I can handle it." She murmured.
She then stepped back in to the changing room, shredding the awful dress from her body.
She slipped on the one Sherlock had picked for her.
The zip was at the back.
Oh, Oh.
She gnawed hard on her lip.
She had to make a decision.
She could either struggled in trying to do the zip herself, or call Sherlock in to do it for her.
She chose the latter.
"Sherlock," she called.
Sherlock came to her, opening her door slightly.
"Can you do me?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Excuse me?"
"Do me up!" She blushed fiercer than she already was, nodding her head to her zip.
"Oh! Of course."
He stepped in to the little room and let his eyes fall to Molly's bare back.
His fingers grazed the skin at the small of her back as he slowly dragged the zip up.
His fingers leaving a tingling sensation as they trailed up her back.
Molly's breathing deepened; Sherlock's grew shallow.
His eyes snapped to hers in the mirror as the zip reached the end of its path.
They ran the full length of her body.
He had made a rather good choice.
It was perfectly her.
Molly couldn't agree more.
The dress felt right.
The dress felt exactly right.
The dress felt as if it belonged to her.
The dress made her feel like she had always imagined she would on her wedding day.
Her eyes connected with Sherlock's in the mirror.
He was staring at her with a look she couldn't decipher.
It almost seemed as if he were… admiring her.
She bit her lip.
The blush on her cheeks, previously, was rising once more.
"Molly… you look…" He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.
"Molly you look beautiful. You simply look beautiful."
Molly looked down, embarrassed by the compliment.
"Thank-you, Sherlock."
She stared at her feet for a few moments before letting her gaze slip back up to Sherlock's in the mirror.
He was still staring at her.
His expression was never changing.
Her chest tightened as it dawned on her.
She wasn't marrying Sherlock.
He was here in her dressing room, helping her pick out her wedding gown.
Sherlock and herself were never going to happen.
Inside of her, her gut twisted.
Some part of her had still been holding on to the hope of it.
But, it was never going to happen.
She was marrying John.
She'd be happy with John.
She knew that.
She'd probably be happier with John than she could ever be with Sherlock.
Not that he wanted her that way.
She let out a sigh.
The sigh felt like she had just let go of a dream she never knew she even had.
She gave him a sad smile in the mirror.
He didn't understand why she was sad.
"What's wrong?"
"I just realised something."
It suddenly all became clear to him.
He knew what she was realising.
As he stared at her in the mirror, he was realising it, too.
She was marrying John.
She was marrying him whether he liked it or not.
She would never be with him.
Not that he wanted her that way.
He gave her a sad smile back.
He didn't let out a sigh.
He still felt like he was letting go of a dream he didn't even know he had.
"Sherlock, can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"As you know, my dad… he died. I have no one to walk me down the aisle…" She trailed off in a whisper.
He knew where she was going with this.
He already knew the answer he'd give.
"So… I was just wondering… if perhaps, if you don't mind… you already have your role in the wedding as best man… but… I was wondering if you'd give me away to John?" She bit her lip and looked down.
He watched her as she did.
He stayed watching her for a few moments before replying.
"I'd be honoured to give you away, Molly Hooper."
Her eyes shot up to his; the sad smile still in place on both of their lips.
If she couldn't walk to him at least she could walk beside him.
Authors Note: Damn. This is eleven and a bit pages. I did not expect that to happen when I began writing tonight. I basically put the next chapter in to this one as well. I do have an idea for the next two chapters and so it should still end up being nineteen chapters long. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. I didn't plan the ending to this… not exactly anyways… but it just felt right. So angsty, I know! I did say every chapter would be emotional from now on. I think they are romantic though, in a sad way. Let me know your thoughts? :)
Petal.