Hello :) sorry that it took so long for me to upload this chapter. I've rewriten it like a thousand times and it still feels kinda wrong. Anyway, here it is :)
A deafening silence fills the dimmed room.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that..." you state, with a strong and clear voice. Your face gets hard and your whole being is without any hint of insecurity.
"Ah, stop it!" Sherlock yells, he jumps up from the bed, which makes you bounce a little. He hurries towards the window and stares outside with his palms pressed together firmly. The man watches an owl flying over London's roof tops. His tired eyes follow the owl until it disappears in to the horizon. Sherlock runs his fingers through his messy dark hair, and sighs heavily, you sit up straighter on your bed, and form your lips into a straight, hard line.
You want to be strong, you're just so done with crying in front of everybody. You have enough of feeling weak, helpless, like a moody baby.
Heated air on your cheeks pulls you out of your thoughts, you look up and realize Sherlock's standing in your personal space, watching you closely. Normally you would push people away, without a second glance, but with Sherlock it was different. He slowly cups your cheeks and forces you to look into his sparkling green eyes.
"Stop lying to me. You are not good at it. You get way to tense..." he smiled a little at the end of the sentence.
With that your facade breaks. The fake self-consciousness washes away like cheap make-up. Leaving no trace behind of ever being there. A tiny smile reaches your lips as you see Sherlock still smiling at you. His hands still firm against your chin.
"I still don't understand why you are being so nice to me. You, John, Mrs. Hudson . I don't know. I've never met kind people, and now I live with three in one house. It's ridiculous." you chuckle and Sherlock moved his hands away. The cold air around your cheeks makes you shiver and you put your blanket tighter around you.
A sad smile drifted over his flawless face as he starts talking fast and in a gravelly tone:" I've always been a genius, since I'm little. I learned things faster and easier. And so did Mycroft, he even faster than me. He still teases me that he's more intelligent, faster simply better in everything. When I was about your age, I started believing it. I thought I was stupid, that my parents aren't proud of me and so on. I started cutting..." , with the last word Sherlock slowly but determined pulls up the sleeves of his shirt. He holds his arm into the light so that you could make out the light scars on his pale skin. They were nearly invisible, but yet still there. You sit there with your eyes widened and mouth open. Sherlock chuckles at your sight and restarts sharing his story, " Eventually, I could stop hurting myself. I got confident. Sometimes I still want to harm myself, but I know it won't work, at least not in the long run. I know how hard it is not having someone to talk to about it. I don't want you to feel like I did"
You can't help but hug the broken man in front of you. "I'm sorry!" you whisper into his dark curls.
"Thanks, for being there for me" you went on as he let go of you.
"You're welcome!" he says, " and now, time for bed". He ruffles your head and you lie down to your bed taking the blankets with you. "Yeah, dad" you tease and wait 'til he switches of the lamp.
"Night" Sherlock whispered from the huge, comfortable chair opposite the bed, next to the window.
Before you menage to answer you fall asleep to the sound of Sherlock breathing.