𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐨 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨

"What do you mean?"

Sherlock held her tighter and pulled her in closer. He stayed silent, debating whether to tell her the truth or change the subject.

"Adagio. That's what this type of dance is called, the slow kind." He chose the latter.

Y/n nodded, ducking her head to hide her blushing cheeks. "I like it. This dance, I mean."

"So do I."

They continued to spin around slowly, in silence, the only sound being their hearts.

"Sherlock?" Y/n looked up, to see him gazing at her softly, "do you think you'll ever get married?"

"Hm. I've never thought about it. I don't have much time to think about that kind of stuff. I would like to, but you kind of need another person to get married. And I don't think I'll ever find that. Someone who loves me."

"Well, maybe you should start looking for someone who loves you."

Sherlock laughed sadly, "where could I possibly look?"

"Right in front of you." Y/n's voice was barely a whisper.

Sherlock looked down, into her deep eyes. They weren't so much dancing now, more of an endless swaying movement that echoed the flow of waves. He leaned his head down, so that their noses were touching. Y/n closed her eyes.

"You...you would want to marry me? Spend your life with me?"

Y/n shook her head, "no. I want to spend forever with you."

She opened her eyes to see Sherlock's filled with tears. He had never been loved before. He never thought it possible for him to be loved.

"Every day," he began softly, "every second, I will fall more and more in love with you. Every day, I will think that it's impossible for me to love you more. And every day, I will be proved wrong. Forever."

Y/n smiled, her eyebrows lifting slightly.
Sherlock's hand pulled her body closer to his as he pressed his forehead to hers. He swallowed. This next moment, this next second was so important. It was something that he had never done before.
Slower than the rising sun, Sherlock gently moved his open lips onto hers, their skin brushing. They closed their eyes, wanting to feel every touch. Softer than feathers. Lighter than air. A warm, beautiful feeling burst inside if them like fireworks and for the first time in his life, Sherlock Holmes felt loved.