Before pointing out other stuff, I wanna say THANK YOU to those who reviewed, favourited and followed my story. Seeing people like what I write makes me soo happy. You guys are my inspiration and the reason why I keep writing. So, once again, thank you so much! I appreciate it (:

Special thanks to Kathmak for pointing out a big mistake of mine and doing it politely (:

And I hope you guys will like this chapter too.

A/N: English is not my native language so please ignore my grammar mistakes if there are any. Thanks!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but this fanfiction. All credit goes to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and BBC.

She kept rewinding that night with Sherlock in her head. The way he touched her, kissed her, held her… Even remembering the smallest detail of that night, made her go crazy. Her lust would come quickly to the surface and blur her mind, detaining her from doing her job properly. She had to put an end to this, she knew that, yet she was in a taxi to go to Baker Street.

She sighed as she read his messages a few more times. He said he missed her. Could that be true? Could Sherlock even miss someone, apart from John? If so, did that mean he cared about her? Well, he told her that she mattered the most and she counted but she never truly believed those words anyway. She always thought that Sherlock felt like he owed her so he told her some sweet stuff to pay his debt.

The taxidriver eventually had to speak pretty loud to get her attention because she wouldn't hear him. Her thoughts were fogging her mind. She paid the taxi and muttered small apologize to the guy. She came right in front of 221B's door after a few hesitant steps, standing in front of it a little while. Then the door flew open and she saw Mrs. Hudson smiling at her widely.

"Oh, come my dear! Sherlock told me you were at the door." She said and let Molly in, hugging her tightly.

"How did he even know I was at the door?" she muttered and let Mrs. Hudson lead the way to Sherlock's flat.

"Sherlooooock, your guest is here." Yelled Mrs. Hudson, winking at Molly. She had to fight herself not to roll her eyes because that'd be rude.

"Thanks Mrs. Hudson, leave us alone now." He said as he pulled Molly by her arm into the flat and closed the door to Mrs. Hudson's face. They heard her mumble something before going down the stairs to her own flat.

Molly looked at Sherlock and saw a mess. A serious mess. He only had a robe on him, his hair messed up, his eyes had purple circles under them and his body looked thinner than usual. How could someone get to this state in just a few days? Molly could tell he had heroin in his system and could tell he injected it by his arm. That explained why he was texting her weird messages. But she could feel the anger build up inside her. She slapped him three times for this before, so how many times more did he need to get slapped by her to come to his senses? Of course if he would come to his senses at all.

Though, before she could say anything, he crashed his lips to hers and she had to tug at his tshirt to stop herself from falling to the ground. The kiss was so sudden and it made her legs go all dizzy. Damn this man and his affect on me, she thought. She knew it was wrong of her to continue the kiss but she couldn't get to stop herself. She missed the feel of his warm lips on hers. Especially his hands on her skin.

Wait, what?

She noticed that his hand already made its way inside her tshirt. He was touching her bare skin with his big hands, caressing every spot on her upper body. That's when she knew she had to stop him, immediately. She pulled away from him abruptly.

"We can't." Was the only thing she said and turned around to leave. Because she knew if she didn't leave now, she wouldn't be able to stop him the second time he kisses her. And she knew he would kiss her again.

Sherlock pouted. "Why not?"

"Are you really asking me that?" she asked him with anger. "What's wrong with you? How could you?!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat on the big couch. "I was bored." He knew exactly what she was talking about and he was not going to deny it. There was no point in denying when there was no way to fool a successful pathologist.

"Oh, so you were bored, then you injected yourself some heroin and then you were bored again, and you texted me to have sex with you." she stated, feeling more and more angry every second.

"Well I wouldn't put it that way but yes. Quite correct." He said and lay on the couch. He was feeling too tired to talk.

Molly's eyes opened wide and she—almost—ran to the couch and grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to sit upright. "You piece of shit." She yelled at him and made an attempt to punch him.

The attempt failed when Sherlock grabbed her wrist, squeezing it tightly. She looked at him right in the eye and saw something that she couldn't name.

His tone was cold, his eyes dark. "I might not have said something the first three times but you don't stand a chance the fourth time, Molly."

She tried to pull her wrist free from his grasp but failed. He held her wrist a little too strong for her liking. Then she named that something in his eyes. It was violence. At that moment, he saw her as an enemy. His crystal blue eyes made that perfectly clear to her.

"I'm sorry." She apologized, frightened by his actions. So this was Sherlock when he was high and bored at the same time.

He narrowed his eyes and with a quick move pulled Molly closer to himself. When he pulled a little too sudden, she fell on him. She was now sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped around her hips possessively. Molly was looking at him with wide eyes, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. So when he crashed her lips on hers again, she didn't do anything to stop him. His actions showed her clearly that she wouldn't be able to escape his hold even if she wanted to.

"I had to make a choice Molly." He whispered at her neck, his breath tickling her. "I was either going to inject another dose or…" He sucked her earlobe and earned a moan before continuing. "…or I was going to call you." Then he put his lips on hers again, silencing her before she could even open her mouth to say something.

But she didn't want to have sex with him. Well, she wanted to have sex with him of course, but not when he was as high as a fucking kite up on the sky. That's why she gathered all her strength, pushed him as hard as she could to keep him away, then stood up and left 221B running. She knew she forgot her purse with everything in it—phone, wallet, cash—there but she didn't care. Sherlock would come to his senses in a few hours and maybe then they would have a sensible talk about not doing drugs again. Or about not calling Molly after doing drugs. But right now, she had to keep himself away from him because she knew she was weak when it came to him and she could easily let him fool her. So she ran all the way home and started crying once she was finally inside.

It was midnight when she was finally relaxed, watching the TV. She made herself some tea and opened her favourite TV show, watching it happily. So when she heard the door's lock click, she knew it was Sherlock instantly. She turned the TV off and put her tea on the coffee table.

Sherlock closed the door behind him and made his way to the living room. Molly stood up from the couch and stayed exactly where she was. She could see that he was not high anymore and he had an apologetic expression on his face.

"I'm sorry for today Molly. I'm aware I scared you off." He said with his low baritone voice and put her purse on the couch before turning around to leave. Molly was about to reach out and hold his arm but he stormed out of the house, leaving a dumbfounded Molly behind. She then knew that she screwed things up when she left 221B that afternoon. But how could he leave without saying another word? He didn't even apologize properly. I hate you, Molly's heart screamed as she curled up on the couch and started crying her lungs.

Okay, so this was a shorter chapter but don't worry, a longer one is coming! (:

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