Darkness Follows...(BBC Sherlock Fanfiction).

Chapter 13- Lying To Escape... Well Sort Of.

Darcy's POV.

I was sleeping peacefully underneath a warm blanket of some kind with my head rested against a soft but thin cushion. That was until I heard a beautiful melody playing and it filled the room, I scrunched my eyes together and shrank further into the sofa, pulling the blanket thing around me trying to keep myself warm as the morning air hit me.

"Shut up." I moaned and turned around awkwardly so I was facing the back of the sofa, but the melody continued to play. Not that I minded too much, it was an angelic sound, but it was annoying all the same, interrupting my sleep.

I kept my eyes firmly closed not giving up what could be my last few minutes of sleep of the day, no way. No how. "Do you want tea?" Sherlock asked, in a monotonous way.

My eyes snapped open and I stared at the leather back of the sofa, before turning swiftly around and smiling at Sherlock innocently, "Yes please, Sherlock."

He rolled his eyes, and reached forward to the tea set on the coffee table in front of him. I glanced down at the blanket draped over me and smiled: I was looking down at Sherlock's beloved coat. He lifted the teapot and poured some tea into two of the cups, then poured the milk in after.

I sat up and yawned, shivering in the cold morning air and stretching my arms out. His coat was bundled up by my feet that were still raised on the sofa and I swung my legs off the sofa, his coat fell off with them. I groaned and reached down for it, but instead just leant my forehead on my knees tiredly with my arms draping down and touching the floor, "What time is it?" I grumbled. "Half-past six." He stated and I glanced up hopefully, resting my chin on my knees instead, "P.M.?" I asked, smiling trustfully.

He glanced at me and smiled slightly, "No. Unfortunately not. Sit up. You'll damage your back."

I groaned and sat up, lifting his coat off the floor and setting it next to me, "I don't think it could feel much worse to be honest." I rubbed the bottom of my back soothingly as I realised it ached from my uncomfortable sleeping position. But the sofa was so comfortable. Why would it hurt me in this way?

Sherlock held out a teacup that was sat on a fragile looking saucer and looked so dainty in his large hands, I reached out and delicately took it from him. I set it gently on my knees balancing it so it shouldn't fall. "Thank you." I smiled at him but he was staring in the direction of the kitchen again.

I sat awkwardly, tapping my finger lightly on the handle of the teacup and observed the living room of 221B. The wall opposite me had a fireplace with a wooden mantle, sat on it was an assortment of random objects. One of them appeared to be a human skull, Mrs Hudson must have brought it back. I frowned, "Is that a real human skull?"

"Yes." He answered monosyllabically and I nodded slowly.

A knife was holding down a small stack of papers on the mantle, either side of the fireplace was a bookcase filled with books that seemed to have been shoved in anywhere and in no order at all. "You've got a lot of books."

"Yes." He replied again.

I rolled my eyes a little and raised the cup to my lips, taking a sip and the hot liquid burnt my tongue slightly. I lowered the cup back onto the saucer and my eyes drifted to the violin sat on the floor a bit away from where Sherlock was sat, "You're really good."

He frowned and glanced at me, "What?"

I gestured to the instrument on the floor, "The violin."

"Oh. Yes." His eyes flicked back to the kitchen and his hands were clasped again under his chin.

I sighed and gulped down the rest of my tea, it was mildly warm by now and so didn't burn my mouth at all. I leant forward and placed the teacup back on the coffee table. Sherlock's cup was still sat on the tray with not even a sip drunk from it. I cleared my throat, "What do you do?"