Dark Secrets (Sherlock x Reader)

Confrontation

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Sherlock sat on the edge of his bed, watching your chest slowly rise and fall as you slept peacefully.

Your face was relaxed, your head loosely resting on the pillow. Your messy hair stuck out in odd places from shifting around as you slept.

Sherlock admired the sight in front of him. It was hard to take his eyes off you. He felt a bit like a creepy stalker, watching you like this. He justified it by telling himself he was simply checking on you.

With his fingers, he carefully moved a strand of hair away from your face. He quickly pulled his hand back when you stirred and stared at you with widened eyes. Once your body relaxed again, he untensed and remained seated.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. This was agony. Ever since you got shot, his feelings for you had increased significantly. It had gotten to the point that all Sherlock's rational thinking flew out the window whenever he saw you. His heart raced whenever he heard your voice or saw you smile at him. His hands got sweaty whenever he sat close to you. It was torture. Utter torture.

The detective didn't know what to do with himself. He was fighting an inner battle. One side of him forbid him from making any advances towards you. It forbid him from giving in to his feelings and acting on the sentiment he felt for you. That side kept reminding him of his reputation. He was a high functioning sociopath. No feelings, no emotions. Nothing.

Though, the other side of him knew that was all a lie. Sherlock had always been different and he'd always known. Desperate to find what was wrong with him, he spent endless hours reading medical books in his childhood. Once he found something that was even the slightest bit of similar to him, he clung onto it like a madman.

He had always needed confirmation like that. He had always craved an answer to the burdening question of what was wrong with him. What made him so different?

So he decided to go by and act like the high functioning sociopath he claimed to be. But it was far from reality. In actuality, Sherlock felt emotions so strongly, they overwhelmed him easily. To cope, he turned to drugs and pushing down any sort of feeling he had. It never worked, but that never stopped him from trying.

He felt so alone and desperate for so long, it had become second nature to him. But now you were in his life and it had shaken up everything.

The poor detective was at a loss. He didn't know what to do, who to turn to, or how to cope with everything he was feeling inside. There was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions raging in his mind, tearing everything down he had fought so hard to build.

His façade was crumbling. He couldn't stop it and it was terrifying.

To think one woman could have such a profound impact on him scared him even more. He knew there was no stopping it. He knew sooner or later, he'd give in.

Why did that have to be so bad? Why did caring about someone have to be so bad? Opening his heart for someone like you could be so wonderful and lead to so many new possibilities in life. Why was he so hesitant and afraid?

That was Sherlock's other side speaking.

Two complete opposites fighting for dominance in his own brain. It was confusing him, angering him, but, mostly, it saddened him. It saddened him because he wanted to care. He wanted to love and be loved. He wanted to experience what that was like. He had always been so alone. To have another person by his side who loved and accepted him was a lovely concept to think of.