Chapter 7: Your Eyes (Give you away)
"My eyes?" Scarlet said astonished.
"Why so simple". Sherlock didn't seem to hear her as he starred at the photos on the wall above the fireplace.
"Of course" he shouted suddenly turning to Scarlett again "your eyes not theirs yours" he was looking at her like a kid in a sweet shop.
"What do you mean, my eyes not theirs" Scarlett said standing up, Sherlock's excitement just seemed to panic her. There was that face again Scarlett hated when he looked at her like she was a complete idiot.
"It was nothing to do with them it was all about you, always you" he said pointing to the photo on the wall.
"There" he said stabbing one of the photos with his finger. "I don't know why I didn't notice before" he said shaking his head so his curly black mop flew in all directions.
Scarlet walked over to him to see what he was pointing at, she had never really taken a proper look at any of these, but there in small print at the bottom right corner of the photo was the name of the photographer: 'Oliver Monroe'.
"But that's my brother's name" Scarlett said slowly taking a step back.
"Yes don't you see, this was to get your attention but when you didn't notice he told the police instead so they would bring it to your attention, He wants to scare you" said Sherlock glee in his eyes.
"Who's Clio" he said suddenly
"Urr Clio was my real mum" Scarlett said slightly taken aback but the sudden change in conversation.
"He uses her name here so he must know you... really well" Sherlock said absentmindedly pointing to the other photo, of the girl posing naked.
Scarlett slumped down in the chair, her head in your hands. The tears fell slowly rolling down her cheeks. She didn't want to let Sherlock see her cry so she stayed silent so as not to draw his attention. The tears splashed onto her jogging bottoms leaving two small wet marks there.
"Why are you crying" Sherlock asked, Scarlett heard him sit down in the chair opposite her own.
"Oh come on you're supposed to be good at this stuff. The great detective and all. Can't you work it out?" Scarlett said looking up at him, the tears still falling.
"You are crying because you're scared" he said simply, she returned her head to her hands, not bothering to answer Sherlock. Scarlett felt it was more of a statement than a question.
"I'm sorry if I have upset you" he said. There it was emotion, she could hear it in his voice regret, Sherlock really was sorry. Scarlett looked up at him, his face was the same as always but his eyes gave him away, they were soft and the ice there was melting away, to reveal a scarred little boy. It made him beautiful the simple emotion made Sherlock even more beautiful than he already was.
"You didn't upset me Sherlock, I prefer that you told me than keep it a secret" Scarlett said looking at him fully now, a small smile on her face as she wiped away the tears. For a moment there was silence, they just sat looking at each other. Then as though he had only just realised he looked away, when he looked back his eyes were cold and empty, the wall was back.
The silence continued and Sherlock began to stare at Scarlett again, she didn't mind this time she knew anything Sherlock could work out would save her life.
"Can I help?" Scarlett said when Sherlock finally looked away his eyes reverting to the ceiling.
"Yes, tell me everything you know" he said standing up and beginning to pace again.
"About what?" She asked
"Work, Family, Friends, Lovers, your life everything" he said his hands pressed together as he paced a look of deep concentration on his face.
Scarlett did as he had asked for hours she told Sherlock everything, about her life, friends, family and even things she didn't tell her best friend. She just wanted to help; she didn't want to feel so useless.
"Wait, go back to the love letters" he said after three hours of her talking and him pacing, for a while she thought he might not have even been listening anymore.
"Well about three years ago, I started getting all these love letters, it started on Valentine's Day. But then I would get one every week for 4 months after that. They were always sighed anonymously" Scarlett said thinking back to it.
"When did you start modelling" asked Sherlock
"About 3 years ago" Scarlett said with a gasp "Does that mean that this guy who's after me is the same one who wrote me all those love letters" she said, Sherlock stopped pacing and looked at her.
"Can I look at them" he asked, "Actually bring the whole box there might be some other clues in there"
Scarlett didn't bother to ask how he knew she had kept them and that they were now downstairs in a shoes box with other prize possessions.
"Yes" Scarlett said standing up "I'll just go get them" Scarlett made her way to the door.
"And don't go anywhere" She told the detective she knew all about his disappearing acts and did not want to come back to find him gone, lord knows she didn't want to be alone right now.
Sherlock was starring at the photographs when Scarlett returned with her shoe box.
"Where should I put it" She asked shutting the door behind her.
"On the coffee table will be fine" he said turning to her now.
Scarlett did as he had asked and placed the box down carefully on the table, the word "Scarlett" was written neatly on the top. Sherlock pulled the lid off and place it on the table, he sifted though the items. Photo's of holidays, her parents and other family, Bruce as a puppy, Christmases. Her first ever front page fully clothed this time. They all seemed like meaningless things but to Scarlett they were everything.
"How did you get this" said Sherlock holding up a small piece of card, The words: Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective, 221b Baker Street and a number were printed neatly on the card, on the back in pen was another number, John's was scrawled messily over it.
"John gave it to me so I would have his number" Scarlett said simply.
"Why did you keep it" he asked looking at her his eyes seemed to burn into her own.
"So I would have the number" she said simply.
"No this is a box of your most prized possessions, a number you would save it on your phone, or put it in your purse not in your box" he said slowly his eyes searching. Scarlett blushed furiously, she wasn't quite sure why she had kept it, it was silly really. Scarlett had just got this feeling about Sherlock and for some reason it made her want to keep his card just because it had his name on it.
"I don't know, maybe I just got muddled up in the move" Scarlett said looking away her cheeks hot with colour, ok so maybe she had a little crush on Sherlock. But so what that was normal right, He was good looking that was true but he was a sociopath, and was completely emotionless. So it was a dead end but you can't kill a girl for trying.
He didn't question any further and she was pretty sure he knew how she felt, but she was glad that he had left it there. She watched as he pulled out the pile of 17 love letters, held together with a thin pink ribbon.
"Does the number 17 mean anything to you?" he asked
"Urr not really my birthday is the seventeenth of April" Scarlett said trying to make the number fit.
"April?" he said, she simply nodded "He sent you these over the course of 4 months and the first on Valentine's Day. Four months the fourth month April" he said slowly to himself.
He pulled the ribbon off and carefully inspected each letter, reading it twice. There was silence while Sherlock read his blue eyes darting across the page.
"The writing doesn't match but it's not a far cry from J-T-R , he could be trying to conceal his identity somewhat now"
Sherlock continued like this for hours, slowly Scarlett's eyes began to droop, she desperately tried to stay awake but slowly sleep consumed her. What only felt like ten minutes later she woke, a large blanket was thrown over her curled body. Sherlock now sat opposite her, staring into the fire which was not lit.
"Thank you" Scarlett muttered weakly he didn't seem to hear her, his eyes fixed to the burning wood.
It was only when she stood did Sherlock look up,
"Where are you going" he cried, there it was the mask had fallen and Scarlett could see true want in Sherlock's eyes.
"I'm tired I was going to go to bed" She said to him smiling weakly as she folded up the blanket and placed it on the chair she had been resting on.
"You could stay here" he suggested the ice was almost completely melted away and she blushed Sherlock was very good looking.
"Do you want me to stay" Scarlett asked, she had pushed it too far she watched as his eyes froze over.
"I do not need you to stay" he said bluntly, standing up.
"Do you mind if I keep these a while" he said holding up the love letters
"Do what you want with them, If they are from that murderer then I want nothing to do with them" Scarlett said her voice bitter and snarl on her lips.
He placed the letters on the mantel piece the ribbon along with them, Scarlett made her way to the door.
"Goodnight Sherlock" she said as she made her way out, he did not look at her or responded. Scarlett had made it to the beginning of the stairs when she decided to turn back.
"You know, you may think your good at hiding, that your little mask will save you, but you eyes give you away. I think I saw the real you tonight, once or twice. You let your guard down, Why?" Scarlett questioned, it had been niggling at her all night. He had worked so hard to build up this front, but he had known Scarlett less than a week and it was already coming down. John said he was emotionless, so obviously the ice was there with John, so why her. What was so different about her?
"How could you tell" said Sherlock not looking at Scarlett.
"No one can lie to me, I see through them, even yours" She said simply, it was true at University her friends had nicknamed her the human lie detector, she didn't know how she could tell but she almost always could tell if someone was lying, or in Sherlock's case that he wasn't as emotionless as John thought.
She bit her lip as the excitement flowed through her, Scarlett wasn't sure why, but there really was something about Sherlock that made him different.
"You did that in you photos, bite your lip" he said completely bypassing her question.
Scarlett looked at him, then she realised he was right, but that meant he must have looked through the Playboy magazine.
"You look through that Playboy" Scarlett said grinning at him
His face stayed emotionless, but once again his eyes gave him away as they filled with panic, Scarlett could almost see the cogs rotating around in that big brain, desperately trying to dig himself out.
"Do you do it out of fear or is it a mask" he asked again avoiding what Scarlett had just said.
She loved watching him squirm, it was strangely enjoyable. Making that big brain seem almost completely useless.
"More exhilaration really" Scarlett said seductively closing the distance between them completely, so they were almost touching. He was at least a head taller than her so she had to look up at him somewhat. Scarlett grinned seductively at him, he looked down at her and for a second she panicked as she saw an animal in his eyes. He moved away quickly to the fire place, he stared into the fire, his back to her.
"Weren't you going to bed" he said simply, it wasn't rude or angry but as though he was confused.
"Yes, I'll see you morning I guess" Scarlett said walking out the flat without another word. She had seen a monster in his eyes and Scarlett wasn't sure what it meant.
Scarlett lay on her bed starring up at the ceiling, she could hear Sherlock moving around, the present threat of death was no longer the main thing it her mind. In a way she was glad of that, glad that she no longer felt useless. Scarlett was still scared of course she was, but right at this moment the main thing on her mind was the man in the room above.
His eyes seemed to haunt her, but most of all it was the things she had seen there, there was a true animal in his eyes, but that wasn't what scared her, it was the fact that it attracted Scarlett to him even more. Something about Sherlock exhilarated her, he was so mysterious and for some reason she just couldn't leave him alone.
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