Am I the one to blame?

Inspired by Oceans Away by Abigail Barlow and Emily Bear

Aurelia looked around the large manor in slight awe. She spun in a small circle, taking in the lights. Her dress moved elegantly around her ankles as she turned round and round.
"What a beautiful party," a woman said, causing Ari to nod in agreement. She found herself looking up at the ceiling. The chandelier was so sparkly.

Looking around, she caught sight of Sherlock. She looked away just as quickly. He never said sorry, but… he probably forgot. Not likely, maybe he wasn't sorry at all. She forced herself to move away from him, smiling at the dancing couples.

As the dancing continued, she marveled at the bright lights. She couldn't ever remember a night like this before. There were parties and balls and soirées of course, but she couldn't remember them being this exciting. It was a beautiful evening.

Once more, she saw Sherlock. He was gazing at everyone, his body tense, his eyes dark. She wanted to know just what the hell he was thinking. He was standing there stoic, emotionless, over everyone so quickly. What was she missing? Obviously something.

To clear her head, she snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
"Thank you," she called after the young man. She took a sip, yet she couldn't bring herself to think about anything but Sherlock. Was she the one to blame for the mess?

A man came up to her, holding out his hand.
"May I have this dance," he asked. Swallowing her last of champagne, she nodded, taking his hand. He led her out on the dance floor and she almost lost herself in the music. Almost. She saw Sherlock a few feet away. They were dancing in the same room, but he was an ocean away.

Sherlock looked around the party in disgust. What a terrible soirée with terrible people pretending they were happy in the masquerade. They all go through the motions when all that they wish is a chance to escape from the choices they make.

He saw Aurelia, watching with a bright smile. How could she be smiling? There had been no reconciling. He watched her carefully. When she was in his focus, she wouldn't even notice his gaze. How could she be okay.

Taking the offered champagne, he tried to wish her away, but he couldn't. He frowned, seeing her through the glass. He couldn't even drink champagne without seeing her face. Was he the one to blame? The fact they were in the same room, but she was an ocean away.

When she was alone, he stood straighter, walking up to her. He tapped her shoulder gently. She startled, turning to face him. She also straightened, hands folding in front of her.
"Care to walk with me?" he offered. He held out his arm and she timidly took it.

Leading her out to the gardens, he barely noticed the gray clouds forming. They were silent for a while until they reached the gazebo. Sherlock gazed down at Ari. She had been lightly touching the flowers as they went and he reached over, plucking a white rose.

With his pocket-knife, he cut off the thorns before tucking it behind her ear. She flushed lightly, but the smile he saw inside had yet to reappear. They spoke at the same time.
"I have something to say…" Ari looked away, her cheeks turning redder.

Sherlock cleared his throat.
"Do you want to go first?" he asked. She nodded slowly.
"I'm sorry," she finally said. He blinked, frowning at her.
"For what?" She laughed lightly at that.
"I'm not quite sure… For many things, I guess."

Rubbing at the back of his neck, he sighed.
"I'm sorry too, darling." Her eyes shot to his at his term of affection. "I haven't been entirely honest with you, Aurelia. For that, I apologize." She went to speak, but there was a clap of thunder, startling her.

He chuckled deeply as she hid in his arms.
"It's just thunder, darling." She shook in his arms.
"If you say so," she whispered. Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head. Her fear of the nature of weather amused him. "Stop laughing," she muttered.

It started to pour, and he pulled away from her for a moment.
"Dance with me." She tilted her head curiously.
"What?"
"Dance with me," he repeated. He wrapped his arms around her waist, dancing her around the small area. They broke away when there was a stop in the rain. He grabbed her hand, and they ran back to the party.

Standing next to his brother, Mycroft cleared his throat. Sherlock jumped out of his daydream. He was still watching Aurelia, who was now standing off to the side, absentmindedly holding a flute of champagne.
"Are you all right?" Mycroft asked.

Sherlock gave a stiff nod his of his head. He lifted his champagne up to his lips, taking a sip. Mycroft slipped away as Sherlock looked to Aurelia. She caught his gaze, and he lifted his glass to her. Her eyes softened, lifting her glass up in return.

They couldn't even drink champagne without seeing each other. Even though they danced in the same room, they were still oceans away. They only had one thought running through their heads. Am I the one to blame?