A/N: Thanks for the kind words everyone and thanks for following my story and leaving reviews. If you stick around, I promise this next chapter is going to be quite entertaining to read. ;) Some clues? Alcohol, revenge, bed.
Anyways, I don't own anything but Anna and Robert.
Anna sat on a bench, inside the Uni's fine arts building. Robert invited her to one of his performances. He was playing a Mendelssohn piece with a string quartet. Although Mendelssohn gets a bad rap as a composer, his music was always enjoyable to listen to so how could Anna pass up a good performance?
Only, if there's one thing that especially is bothersome to Anna, it's going to an event alone—a concert, a play, any social event, really.
She glanced down at her wristwatch. Its face told her twenty minutes still remained before the concert began. A huff of air blew from her lungs.
Twenty minutes. What to do with twenty minutes.
Anna pulled out her mobile. No missed calls, no texts. No new e-mails. Nothing exciting in Facebook land. She put her mobile back down and looked at the watch again.
Eighteen minutes.
"Ugh!." Anna slouched over and cupped her face in her palms.
Then, an idea came to her.
Come now. Might be dangerous.
Anna sent an attachment of the building's address.
On my way.
Anna waited by the front doors of the building building, her hands shoved in her coat pockets and waited eagerly. She rocked back and forth on her feet and kept checking the time on her watch.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Sherlock's voice came from behind her.
She spun around and smiled, noting that he was tightly bundled in a long, dark jacket. "Oh, nothing."
Sherlock studied her a minute.
"What do you want?"
"I thought you might like a concert."
"You got me out for a concert." Sherlock's hands still stayed buried deep in his coat pockets and a neutral frown stayed on his lips.
Anna shrugged a little, looking through the concert notes. "It could be dangerous."
Sherlock grabbed it from her and glanced through the concert material. He rolled his eyes at her. "They're playing Mendelssohn."
Anna laughed. "You never know!"
He sighed again, this time with a tiny smirk. "He's Jewish!"
In the dark concert hall, Anna sat triumphantly as she'd managed to bring Sherlock in with her. His long legs sat bowed awkwardly in the narrow row of seats. The downbeat and the closing note of the concert came and passed quickly and the small audience filed out of the hall.
Many of the performers came out and met their friends and family.
Sherlock and Anna stood near a pillar. Sherlock was still quite sour, although it was clear he'd enjoyed himself, as he would hum a motif, catch himself, and would stop.
"Robert! Great job!" Anna rushed over and gave him a hug.
When they parted, she introduced them.
Robert was polite, thanked him for coming, and smiled.
Sherlock, being Sherlock, only nodded and gave a half effort grin. He remained silent as Anna and Robert chatted a while longer.
Robert then excused himself to go help tear down the stage and that he'd catch up later.
The two silently departed and got in a taxi together. Silence remained around them as buildings slid past them through the windows. Soon, the silence became too much.
"Sherlock, is something wrong? You haven't said a word for the past three hours." Sherlock kept his gaze out the side window and when he didn't give a response, Anna spoke again.
"Look, if you're mad about coming to the concert it's—."
"He's needy." Sherlock calmly spoke up.
"What?" She turned her head towards Sherlock this time, as did he.
"He depends on others too much." Sherlock blatantly stated.
"Sherlock, what are you talking about?"
"And he's still attached to his past lover."
Anna shook her head a little, slightly confused and dumbfounded. "Where are you getting these ideas from?"
First, he sighed a little, and then took in a long breath.
"When he pulled out his phone, there were three missed calls and two messages. He checked and all were from his mother. His shirt was cleanly pressed and no man that age posses the skill or desire to tend to his clothing so neatly. So, one would think about the dry cleaners. No. He's a student and that's not in the budget. Just have mum do it at home, along with do his laundry and clean his room.
And the way he put his arm around you. It was possessive yet his gaze wandered around the room, as if to see whom else could see where his arm was. To show off, like a boastful child on Christmas."
The cab came to a stop.
"You're wrong." Anna, in disbelief, stated before she got out, leaving Sherlock to cover the cab fare. She ran across the street to her building, not seeing Sherlock's small smirk on his lips.
"I'm never wrong," he had mumbled walking towards his front door.
The statements Sherlock made about Robert really resonated and bothered Anna. She didn't want to believe him. Robert was the first honest, kind, attractive, least scumbag of a guy she'd met in almost half a year.
Perhaps she'd put Robert up on a pedestal. Maybe he wasn't that great of a guy but he certainly couldn't be any of the things Sherlock mentioned. Surely, she would've noticed something like that!
It was an honest relief when Robert phoned her and invited her to dinner. At his place.
When she had gotten there, she was pleasantly happy. Robert's flat was modest and simple. He lived by himself but had little time for actually living in his home, as he was always at a performance. Really, it was tidy and tastefully decorated. His mother must've helped.
For dinner, he made delicious lasagna. So he could cook. That's a plus, right?
Later, they sat on his sofa, sipping coffee and nibbling on chocolate.
Anna had to admit that everything seemed too good to be true and it made her suspicious. The entire night, they clouded her thoughts. Anna observed Robert diligently, every run of his hand through his hair, how he held his wine glass, his posture as he sat, blue button up shirt, and formal fitting sports jacket. As many details as possible.
Things still didn't fit together though. Nothing seemed to match what Sherlock had said.
They eventually came to the subject of music.
Robert brought up a piece that she'd never heard before. He happily excused himself to another room in search of the sheet music.
As she waited, Anna noticed his phone sitting on the coffee table in front of her. Her gaze attempted to avoid it, looking from pictures and plants around the room yet always came back to the plastic chunk on the table.
Anna inwardly chastised herself as she reached for it.
With this action, she'd instantly become one of those girls. The nosey, stalker girls.
She flipped the cover open and briefly scanned through the most recent texts. Not many girls—his mother, a sister, and a few ladies from work (nothing serious just gossip about the boss).
Okay, what else?
Photos.
Anna scanned through the first few pictures. Picture of the family pet, concert picture, siblings, and then a penis!
His penis? Someone's penis was on his mobile. It glared at her from the screen.
Anna was in a state of shock and was immobile for a brief second. Then she could hear his footsteps grow closer to the living room. She fumbled with it before dropping it on the table.
"What was that?" He came and sat next to her.
"Just stubbed my toe." Anna nervously chuckled and could feel an obvious flush grow on her cheeks.
Then, her observations began to come together.
His cleanly pressed shirts, neat living quarters, clean and trimmed appearance with quite the nice selection of various ties and matching socks.
Is Robert gay?
A/N: I hope no one got offended by the Mendelssohn thing. Thing is, the Jewish get blamed-unfortunately-for a lot of things and have been looked down upon and Mendelssohn has gotten a bad rap simply because he's Jewish, even though he's a fabulous composer.
For those who care, I was referring to Mendelssohn's String Quartet No. 1 in E flat.
Also, the last chapter, I mentioned Lalo's Symphonie Espagnole. For those who care, it's a piece I'm working on right now and it's super fun and hard and awesome.