No Shit, Sherlock

Unrequited Love

We head inside, all four of us helping Sherlock up the stairs. When we're in the apartment, Mycroft and Watson push Sherlock on to the couch.

"He's your problem now, John," says Mycroft.

"I'll walk you out."

Watson and Mycroft leave the apartment and Enola follows them, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she waves at me. I turn around to see Sherlock sitting up, staring right at me.

"Why are you staring at me?" I ask.

"Because you're beautiful."

My face heats up, "You're drunk."

"Doesn't change the fact that you're a beautiful woman."

My stomach flutters, the butterflies in my stomach never seem to rest when I'm around him.

"You should get some rest," I reply, looking out the window.

The sound of footsteps pull my attention away from the starry sky. I look to my left and see Sherlock standing next to me, staring out the window. His arm brushes against mine, I wait for him to step away. But he doesn't.

"I wish you would've gone with us tonight."

"Why?"

He looks at me with a small smile, "Because you make everything better."

My heart stops. Did I hear that right? Surely not, I must be imagining things. The sleepless nights are finally starting to affect my mind.

His hand caresses the side of my face, and my mind finally calms down. All I can do is stare back into his blue eyes.

He leans in closer, my heart feels like it's about to burst out of my chest, and the thoughts in my head are moving faster than I can comprehend. His blue eyes close, and mine do as well.

His lips meet mine and without even thinking I kiss him back. My arms wrap around his neck and he grabs me by my waist, pulling me even closer to him.

He pulls away, the two of us stare at each other, trying to catch our breath. I look for any sign of regret in his eyes, but don't find any.

"I like you, a lot."

He's drunk, I remind myself. He won't remember anything he's said or done tonight. But I will. I'll think about it, and I'll obsess over it until I finally pass out from sleep deprivation. Then, I'll wake up and restart the whole pathetic pattern over and over again.

"You're just saying that," my voice comes out shaky.

He shakes his head, "I mean it."

"Then why can't you say this when you're sober?"

"I can't."

The door opens, the two of us step back from each other, and Enola walks over with a smile. "Ready to go?"

I nod my head and the two of us walk to the door, each step away from Sherlock tugs at my heart painfully. When we're standing outside the apartment I look back one last time and lock eyes with Sherlock. He doesn't say anything and neither do I. Enola shuts the door and that's when I feel my heart break for the first time ever.

"Are you okay? Enola asks.

A tear drops from my eye, I wipe it away before she notices. She's my best friend, the person I trust the most, but I can't tell her what's wrong with me.

"Do you think Tewkesbury is awake?"

"He better be," she replies.

~~°°••°°~~