A/N, AGAIN THIS IS NOT EXACTLY LONG BUT I FINISHED IT WITHIN AN HOUR. I HAD WRITTEN SOME PARTS EARLIER BUT THE MAJORITY OF THE CONTENT WAS SPONTANEOUS. THIS IS BY FAR MY SHORTEST CHAPTER, SORRY GUYS, BUT I JUST WANTED TO GET THIS OUT THERE. I'M POSTING IT WITHOUT EDITING PROPERLY AND I WILL DEFINITELY EDIT IT LATER, SO YOU MIGHT WANNA CHECK IT OUT AGAIN AFTER SOME DAYS OR WHEN I POST THE NEXT CHAPTER. PLEASE REVIEW.
Ch-6 The Truth
Sherlock Holmes.
The man who put me in pain all this time.
The man who triggered my nightmares.
The man I find beautiful.
The man I remember.
The man I can't seem to remember.
The man I want to remember.
I look directly in his eyes once my body allows me to without betraying me in forms of tears or shivers.
"Mary and John, can I ask you guys to do me a favor?" I ask and they nod without any hesitation.
"Can I only be with Sherl- uh... Mr. Holmes for the evening instead of all of us? You both can make an evening out of it,'' I ask, hesitation
colouring my voice.
I don't know why I want to do that. I don't even know this person. But I just want to do it.
"Yeah. But are you sure about that?" Mary asks me in a perturbed tone.
"Yeah, I am sure about it," I say nodding my head.
Mary looks at Sherlock and I think he nods because John and Mary help me get up the couch and out of the restaurant while Mr. Holmes follows
us.
We get out of the cafe and bid farewell to John and Mary as we start moving towards my car.
"Uh... Can we walk? I want to give my brother Mycroft a message," Mr. Holmes says to me with an expression of deep scrutiny which I somehow
am not able to question and I just nod. We just keep walking forward.
"Um... How are you gonna message your brother? I mean, do you have a phone with you? Because I am pretty sure you don't," I say to him.
"Why do you think I don't have my phone with me, again?" Mr. Holmes asks me.
"You did not attempt to take your phone out even after I nodded. So that must either mean that oyou don't have your phone or your phone's
battery died. I assumed the latter because people usually take their phones out even if their battery is dead as a little beacon of hope or
just to make sure of it. Common Homo-sapien behaviour which I don't understand. I also think you do not intend to use your phone in order to
message your brother," I say to him, with a mild smile. He seems... amazed I guess. I'm not so sure though.
"You are a good deductor. You said that you think that I did not intend to use my phone in order to message my brother. Why so?" he asks me
with a ghost of a smile. "You just said a message had to be given. You never mentioned a cell phone or electronic messaging. Also if your
battery would have been dead, you would have asked me for my phone, but that didn't happen. So..." I say to him with a little laugh.
"Yes, you do have the potential," he mutters.
"Sorry, what?" I ask him.
"Oh, it's nothing," he says and we keep walking. Not ten minutes ago I was afraid and terrified of this person, now it's just comfortable
silence as the sky lightly drizzles.
The wet, desolate streets of the city rested in silence as the starry black sky wept over it. The water in the portholes shimmered by the
glow of the bright, yellow street lamps. The small, green trees on the roadside swayed as the strong breeze hit them.
Above a faded zebra crossing, a traffic light frantically changed colors seeming rather like a disco light. A watchman snored comfortably on
his dark brown stool under the protection of his shops's roof. Huge giant buildings stood besides the street, quiet as if taken over by an
army of libraries. Some windows gave out white and yellow lights, but the others were pitch black.
It seemed like the clouds had gotten a sudden fascination to the moon and wrapped themselves around it. The moon's faint glow passed through
them, coloring them white from grey.
The cool monsoon air carried a sweet moist scent like a candy shop kept inside a refrigerator.
The pattering of the rain, which was now deaf to ears, was interrupted time by time during the night. Once a car passed by. Stray dogs began
barking, while the deafening music from the car echoed around the street. The car soon disappeared and the dogs stopped barking satisfied
that they had scared the car away. Later, a taxi came down the road and parked. A bunch of young kids came out laughing emphatically. The
taxi drove away but the children stood at the corner of the lane, yet laughing vigorously. A man screeched out from his window and cursed at
the noisy children who went mute immediately. A few lights flickered open through the windows and nosy neighbors looked out to inquire.
Aunties made sure they had memorized enough points to gossip over tomorrow. Finally the furious man went back and the children departed for
home.
The streets of the city now rested again in lifeless silence except the gentle pattering of the raindrops. It lay there just like it had for
many a changing years ready to rise when the sun's auburn rays would start to cast grey shadows over it.
We walk back-and-forth, right-to-left, front-to-back and I start noticing a pattern and I remember our prior movements. Just as we stop
right in front of the car two hours later, I realize what we had been doing.
"So, delivered your message to your brother yet?" I as him as I open my car door.
"What? What are you talking about?" Mr. Holmes asks me, visibly baffled.
"'Think I found her', that was your message wasn't it?" I ask him, winking at him.
"Wait, how do you know Ms...?" he says.
"Dhall. Get in the car Mr. Holmes, I'll drop you off," I say and he doesn't comply, I walk out of the car and hold the door to passenger's
seat till he finally gives in and rests his case.
"Ms. Dhall, you are an author aren't you?" he asks me.
"I know how you know it Mr. Holmes," I say.
"You do? Humor me," he says with a mild smile.
"One can tell that easily if they are keen enough. My fingers and palms are a bit flat from all the typing I do and I have a certain kind of
ink on my hands which is mostly used by authors. You can identify it by its unique colour which gets formed when it's washed off. One can put
two and two together and can easily induce that. Now, here comes your destination. You can get off," I say to him with a smirk.
"But how do you know about the message?" he asks me, trying to squeeze information out of me.
"That is a tale for another time, Mr. Holmes. Good Night," I say and laugh as he sighs dramatically.
"Oh, but you intend on seeing me again then, want to kidnap me Ms. Dhall?" he asks innocently.
"Haha, funny. Now I gotta go Mr. Holmes, we have stuff to do unlike some people," I say with a laugh.
"Okay. Oh, and your gift is with Mary, make sure you get it. Night, Ms. Dhall," he says and gets off.
"Oh, can I get your number please?" I ask him just before he shuts the door.
He just smiles mildly and I know that look.
"It's in that bag, isn't it?" I ask him with a grin. Damn.
"Night, Ms. Dhall," he says and shuts the door.
The trip back to the Penthouse is a short one, filled with EDM songs. I love EDM.
I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED READING THIS CHAPTER.
PLEASE DO REVIEW GUYS, LACK OF REVIEWS IS REALLY DISCOURAGING AND I MIGHT JUST STOP UPDATING.
ANY REVIEW WHATSOEVER WILL HELP.
PS SORRY FOR THE SHORT CHAPTER.
XOXO,
BibliophilicBlunder