Sherlock one shots x readers, preferences and imagines

Jim Moriarty one shot x reader - A song

I carefully placed the thick book on the cash desk and the old man behind it smiled at me as I did. 'Have you made your choice?' He asked me and I smiled back. 'Yes, eventually I have.' I had been searching for a nice book for around thirty minutes and the man had observed me in silence. I came here often and even though I didn't really know anything of this man, not even his name, we had become friends. He didn't know anything of me either, but he was very kind and the smile of an old man brought me happiness. He had told me that this bookstore was his possession. From the in and outside it looked old with dusty thick books and the smell of leather and paper was very noticable in the little room. The paper inside the bookcovers were yellowed which I loved. This man fit perfectly in his own store; his dark clothes resembled the dark book covers and the man's skin looked yellow-ish in the weak light, just like the papers. The store was small but it was warm and filled with a calm yet pleasant atmosphere. I always felt at ease when I was here. The man looked at my chosen story and he gently smiled. 'Very good choice.' He said, 'This is one of my favourites, actually.'

'Oh, well, if you want it to stay in your store then I can choose another book too.' I said which caused the man to laugh. 'Why wouldn't I want you to buy this book? Why would I place it in my store when I want to keep it myself? Besides, you seem like a person with respect and interests for old tales.' He said and I smiled because of the compliment. 'How much is it?' I asked. 'For you? Nothing. It's a gift.'

I started to protest but the man stopped me. 'It's a gift. If only you remember this; there are people out there that are like these books.' He said and stroke over the cover in a loving way, 'they are dusty, old, maybe even ugly, but the papers contain a beautiful story.' He looked up for a moment . 'I know, dear man. Isn't that the saying: "don't judge a book by its cover"?' I asked.

The man nodded and talked on. 'But I want you to know this: there are people out there who are the opposite if these books. They are beautiful from the outside, they are handsome and charming, but from the inside they're ugly, rotten and merciless. You must keep an eye on the people around you; they seem to like women like you.'

'Like me, sir? What do you mean with that?' I asked him.

'Kind, clever and beautiful women are a beloved target. Don't let them hurt you.' I appreciated his warning and compliment, but I shrugged my shoulders and took the pretty heavy book from the table. 'I doubt that anyone would take interests in me, dear sir. But thank you anyway, for the book and the advice.' I smiled kindly and turned to leave the store.

I let out a sigh and placed my head on the door handle. It was so pleasantly warm in here. I kept courage and opened the door. Reluctantly I walked out of the store and into the cold. I quickly zipped my coat with my left hand and let it help my right hand with the book after I zipped it. It was already spring, but the cold of the winter hadn't gone yet. I shivered and my teeth clattered. I walked on, quickly taking big steps, hoping to reach home soon. The kind man had looked so urgently at me when he warned me. He had spoken in such earnest that it kind of scared me.

I felt as if someone was watching me so I looked behind me. Nothing. I looked around me, carefully observing everything that moved in the lights of the streetlamps that lit the long avenues. No eyes watched me while I quickened my steps, at least, that's what I thought. Little did I know who was observing every movement I made.

There. There it was. A sound came from my left and I could swear I saw something, or someone, move. I realised I had stopped walking but quickly resumed my way, even faster than before. There probably was nothing moving, or maybe just an innocent cat. But why did I feel so threatened as I made my way through the avenue? Why did I feel a sudden urge to run?