I pulled him away from the shop, laughing at the cold air. We stopped staggered and laughed at each other, our breath freezing. Sherlock leaned against the wall and I did a little spin.

"Holy fuck," He cried, trying to catch his breath.

"Told ya it was a rush," I grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss. His lips like fire, he didn't refuse her embrace. I pulled apart.

"What do we do now?" He asked curiously.

I grinned, kissing my neck. "Oh, Sherlock." I muttered. "You sweet innocent little thing…" I took him by the lips again, jumping around his waist. Holding me carefully, we rolled onto the grass.

"Irene," Sherlock whispered.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," He muttered.

I looked over at him with and sighed, pulling myself away. I pulled up the strap to my dress. Sherlock sat up curiously as I looked away from him.

"Irene?" He asked. "What's wrong?"

I kept looking away from him. "You shouldn't say those sort of things Sherlock. Not unless you mean them."

"But, I do mean it," He said, edging towards me.

"No, Sherlock," I said. "Don't,"

He sighed. "Irene, please look at me." I sighed and looked over at him, eyes filled with tears. Carefully he wiped away the tear on my cheek with his thumb. "Why are you crying?" He asked.

"Because…" I wiped tears from my cheek with my arm. "Because, Sherlock. I'm not a nice person. I'm a terrible. I really am. And I've… I've…"

Sherlock sat closer to me. "Irene. You're not a bad person."

"How do you know?" I cried. "We've only known each other a couple of weeks!"

"Irene," He said, grasping my shoulders. "Irene, look at me."

I blinked through the glassy tears that now encapsulated my vision completely. "You're not a bad person – please, let me finish. You have shown me the world. You've shown me what makes it work and how to get around the system,"

"Sherlock, I'm a crook!"

"You're a teenager! All teenagers are stupid!" He replied. "Irene, I mean it, you really are the best person I know."

"Yeah, drugs, sex, drink… They make me one of God's Angels," I said.

"Please, I listen to me." He kissed me. "You're so good to me. You are the most amazing person I've ever known. You really are."

"Sherlock…"

"Please Irene." He muttered, touching my cheek. "You are…" A kiss to my cheek. "So…" A kiss to my forehead. "Good to…" A kiss to my lips. "Me…" I pulled him around by the neck, holding him close. I kissed him back, slowly at first, but building as we found each other in loneliness.

We parted, breathing heavily. "I think we should go home," I muttered.

"I don't want to,"

"Sherlock, you're dad'll be pissed,"

Sherlock pulled away, his face sombre. "I don't care what he does to me anymore,"

"No," I pushed him off. "Go home. See your brother." I stood up. He sighed.

"Yeah." He stopped and stared at me.

"What?" I asked.

"I need to…" Sherlock sighed. "I need you to help me."

"What's wrong?"

"It's my dad."

"I know he's a cunt but ya gotta live with it." I said.

"Irene," He grabbed my shoulders, his eyes on fire with a fresh flame. "Please."

"Sherlock, what could he possible do to you that you need to run from each night?" I asked.

Sherlock said nothing. His eyes flickered for a second. "You're right," He muttered. "I deserve what I get from him."

"What? No. Sherlock, I never said that!"

"Do you think that I deserve this?" He asked, pulling down his shirt from his collar. He thrust out his arm. On his shoulder was a circular mark.

"What's that?" I asked.

He paused, realising what he was doing. He pulled his shirt over his shoulder and looked away.

"Sherlock, answer me!"

He stared at his feet. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I should… I should go…"

"Sherlock!"

He sighed and took off, running away from me. "SHERLOCK!"