Dearest William,
Don't you see? The key to breaking down your walls is that you want me to. Without your resistance, it is possible. So thank you for allowing me into your heart. I promise to never break it. I have long ago realized that you are my home as well. If anyone were ever to ask me to describe home, I'd talk about your soft curls, the colour of your eyes and the sound of your voice. I may even go as far to respond with the feel of your lips on mine and your arms holding me close. It is the little things that truly matter most. I adore when you're on a case and you come to me to have my fingers in your curls, whether I'm at home or here at the hospital. You say it helps you concentrate. While that may be true, I think you just simply enjoy it, the closeness; the intimacy.
When I read your words, telling me that you felt worthy of my love for the first time, I felt exuberant. I cannot express how happy I am that you're beginning to see yourself as I see you. You deserve to know exactly what I see in you. I always saw somebody who covered up their heart with icy layers to freeze others out for fear of being hurt. You were scared and convinced yourself that you were unemotional, that you didn't care. By not caring about yourself, it was your way of keeping others at arm's length. Do you know how I saw these signs? I used to act in a similar manner back in uni. It wasn't for a long period of time, but when my dad passed away, I shut everyone out of my life. I was convinced that I wouldn't lose anyone or get hurt ever again if I was alone. I was wrong, of course, but enough about me.
I cannot tell you how pleasantly surprised I was that you brought fish and chips for us last night in the lab. It was a lovely gesture. It was so funny when Mike walked in on us just after your experiment practically blew up. We must have looked so dumbfounded with our safety goggles on. I was tempted to sneak your phone away after you took that awful photo of me with remnants on my lab coat but then you set it as your lockscreen, so I couldn't really complain. I can't believe you convinced me to share one of the employee shower stalls with you, as it is against policy, but it was fun. What wasn't fun was the smirk on Anderson's face when he caught us laughing about it in the hallway. Ah well, what can you do? He was bound to find out eventually.
And don't think you're getting off easily after that prank you pulled: putting a clear rubber band over the sprayer at the sink; real mature, Sherlock. But don't worry, I have plans. You won't know when or where but it will happen. Okay?
I love you with all my heart,
Molly xxx