Sherlock gently removes his long fingers from your face. I throws a sheepish smile at you and walks towards the couch, where he throws himself on. His head tilted to the colored wall behind him and he closes his eyes. You just stand in the middle of the room and look at him. A slight smile plays around Sherlock's well-formed lips, his long dark eyelashes stand in contrast to the pale skin as he ruffles through his curly hair, trying to make himself look less messier. When he realizes that you don't join him on the couch, he opens his blue eyes and stares with dark and big pupils at you, he removes his fingers from his hair and beckons with his hand on the spot next to him. You hesitate at first, but then you just walk over to him and let yourself fall close next to Sherlock on the sofa. His eyes did not leave you while you walked towards him. As soon as your behind hits the rough fabric, he turns his body towards your general direction to face you, while he talks:" Why?"
Why, was everything he had said. Why.
A little word that can change so much, a word than can save you, but is also able to push you over the edge. Your mind starts racing, you can't think of a thing to say. You just stare at your knees, desperately to find your voice and your courage. After minutes of uncomfortable silence you part your lips and every word rushes out your mouth, trying to finally get heard:"I... I hate myself. I really do... and that's what keeps me alive, that's what lets me breath again, that's what shuts the voices in my head even if it's just for a little amount of time. I know you probably don't understand it. Not that you're stupid, for god sake's no! It's just no one really understands it, no one ever did. Each time I told someone they looked at me, with disgust in their eyes. They laughed at me, they never took it seriously. So I too, stopped taking it seriously, and I started cutting deeper and..."
Tears are now streaming down your face, you start sobbing and aren't capable to keep on talking. Sherlock sits next to you, he puts his strong arm around you for comfort, he tries to brush away your tears but you quickly put your face in your hands, so he can't reach you. You don't want to worry him. You don't want to hurt him and you don't want him see you like this. Like the mess you truly are, you have always been good at hiding your feelings, your scars, everything but Sherlock could see right through you, there was no way, of him not finding out everything about you.
First the sobbing stops and then the tears get less, until they vanish as well. Your eyes are rimmed red and your face is still tear stained. Sherlock did not leave you for the whole time he just sat there, listened and tried to comfort you in any way possible.
Suddenly you here clumsy and heavy footsteps on the floor, they make their way towards the stairs and head downstairs. You quickly look at the huge clock on the wall. It was 6:30am and John had to get up for work.
AN: thanks again for the awesome reviews :3