Sherlock Imagines

Preference | You Break Up

Song preferences using the songs from the previous chapter...

Sherlock ||

If I hadn't been so stubborn, been so selfish

Thought about her more, thought about me less

Joked and made her laugh, held her when she cried

A little more that, maybe I

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating. People told you to stay away from Sherlock. It was going to end badly and you should run for the hills while you still had a chance. You told they were talking nonsense.

But now that you're done, you are starting to think they were right.

The relationship was great at first he was a gentleman to the best of his abilities. He would take you an dates, you would cuddle on the couch and watch cheesy chick flicks, but after Moriarty jumped into the picture your relationship took a major hit.

He became distant. He focused more on his work than you. You wish he paid attention to you more, wish he wasn't so stubborn, so selfish.

He never tried to make you smile during those months. Never tired to comfort you when you were upset. You were beginning to spiral into a hole of self depreciation. You had to get out. You just had too.

So you did. You packed your bags while Sherlock was chasing a lead. You wrote him a note, short and to the point.

Sherlock,

I warned you it was coming. But I know now, seasons change but people don't.

Goodbye Sherlock.

-Y/n

When Sherlock found the note you were already long gone. He rushed from the house, and ran like hell down the street. Called friends and checked every one of your favorite spots, places you would go, but he had no luck. He called Mycroft, begging him to find you.

When Mycroft had no luck, Sherlock spent his days screaming at the picture of you on the mantel. He slipped into old habits, nearly overdosing twice since you had left. He even gave up trying to rid his flat of the prying cameras.

All Sherlock could use his mind for now is to think,

"If I had loved her this much all along, she wouldn't be gone."

John ||

Right now, he's probably slow dancing

With a bleached-blond tramp

And she's probably getting frisky

Right now, he's probably buying

Her some fruity little drink

'Cause she can't shoot whiskey

Right now, he's probably up behind her

With a pool-stick

Showing her how to shoot a combo

You suspected something from the get go. The late nights, hiding his screen, coming home late smelling a little more fruity than he should.

You knew for certain when you went to John and Sherlock's flat to meet John and he wasn't there. Sherlock was there however and his sympathetic look was sickening. He tried to apologize.

"I don't need your sympathy, just get me proof." Sherlock awkwardly patted your shoulder.

"Of course."