Bookshelves (Sherlock x Reader)

•9•

I stared blankly at the door where Sherlock had exited. My mind was empty, what was I to say?
The door to the flat opened, John entering through, his eyes wide with confusion.
"(Y/N)? Are you alright?" He stepped towards me.
"I need to take a walk." I muttered, glancing out the window.
"You can't, not with Rhys still out there." Sherlock's voice startled me, as did his face. He looked so solemn, as if he was struck with grief. My heart ached just looking at him, but I couldn't respond, for only 5 minutes ago his lips were on mine, yet he just turned it away so easily.
"Sherlock's right, it's not safe." John sighed, locking the door behind him.
"Then I'll go to my room." My words came out harsher than intended, but I walked by anyways, towards my room. I felt the pair of eyes scanning my sullen form back to my hiding spot.
I shut the door behind me and let out a long breath, sinking to the floor, snatching a copy of a book off my nightstand. I turned the cover over, and to my dismay I was staring at a copy of Romeo and Juliet. I groaned and tossed it away, running my fingers through my tangled hair.

Hours passed with pure silence, John and Sherlock hadn't said a word as far as I could hear, the floor boards ceased their creaking, leaving the only sound being the rain battering my bedroom window.
Finally I stood, knowing I needed to have something to eat. I pushed the door open slowly, stepping across the floors, and towards the kitchen.
No one was there, the flat was silent, which was a rare occasion. I took advantage of it and made myself a hot pot of tea, and baked a quick batch of cookies. After I finished, I scooped them onto a tray, with the pot of tea and made my way down the stairs to Mrs.Hudson's flat.
"Yes, (Y/N)?" She smiled brightly as she opened the door.
"Would you like some tea and cookies?" I lifted the tray gingerly, watching the look of surprise on her face.
"Well with the boys here, no one bakes for old me, come on in dear!" Mrs.Hudson grinned, pulling the door open and walking to her small dining table. I followed quickly, setting the tray down, and seating myself in front of her.
"Sherlock is out, yes? He's always taking that kitchen for experiments." She said, scooping a cookie off the place to eat. I sighed and sipped on my tea.
"I don't know where he is." I muttered, hiding my face behind the cup.
"Oh what did that bloody man do now? For a clever man he sure is dumb!" She cried, sitting up in her chair. I hesitated, but decided to confide in the landlady.
"He kissed me." I admitted, taking another long sip of tea. "I now wish this was rum."
"And that's something to dread dear? A kiss isn't so bad!" Mrs.Hudson commented. I explained the situation, the way he left, the way he apologized and how he looked when I saw him again. I went on about his face, his lips, his passion and his gentleness, I couldn't believe the emotions spilling from my mouth, the hurt and excitement in every word.
"Sherlock is a very strange man, but he does sound like he cares for you." She nodded when I finally finished.
"He left. He knows I am a woman of an estranged family, he knows I am lost in my head, why would he-"
"You just explained who he is, who Sherlock is. An estranged family, lost in his head, not seeing why anyone would like him. You are the same, yet different." Mrs.Hudson smiled softly, standing up from her seat. "Now you've been here for 2 hours dear, Sherlock's most likely looking for you." And with that she went silent, a dismissal that I couldn't argue no matter how I tried. I stood, and grabbed my tray gently from the table, and exited through the door and going up the stairs. As I reached the top of the stairs I heard chatter within the living room, when I opened the door, there was a woman.
A slender woman, beautiful, and naked. Sherlock stood closely to her, his eyes locked on hers. I froze, the sight was like a punch to the chest. Sherlock's eyes swerved to me, they widened with fear.
"(Y/N)-"
"Some bastard you are!" I snapped, turning on my heel, back towards the stairs.
"(Y/N) wait!" Sherlock cried, pursuing me to the bottom floor. I ignored his cries, his desperate pleas for me to listen to him, until he grabbed my arms.
"Don't touch me you vile creature! You are exactly what a book would make you to be, a snake, a player, a loser with nothing in his head but a bunch of worthless facts!" I roared, shoving my hands harshly against his chest, knocking him back.
"I didn't know she'd come back-"
"I don't care." I muttered. "You kissed me, you chose this, you made me feel something for you!" I yelled, feeling the heat rising in my chest, wishing to burst out with a rush of insults on him.
"I didn't mean to hurt you."
"Bastard." Was all I could respond with, before turning around and slamming the door in his face.
Bloody. Bastard.