perception of the mind (sh adaptation)

Twenty Nine • Simply Different

"Love, unconquered in battle."
-Sophocles, Greek Poet

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She opened her eyes and turned off the alarm, sunlight dancing through the translucent curtains.

She sighed as he turned around, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her tightly.

"Sherlock.. You do this all the time."

He didn't respond, eyes closed and serene as if he couldn't hear her.

She tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes, but his grip was too tight.

Ophelia gazed down onto his face. "I have to go to work or I'll be late. I've missed too many work days to afford a warning. I'll probably get fired."

At those words, his mouth finally opened. "Termination of employment is nothing but figures selfishly assuming they have the upper hand. Which they do not." He took a deep breath, eyes still closed so he couldn't see the look on her face. "Besides, there are a myriad of employers willing to give you a position. Dare I say an even greater one than Barts hospital with a load of staff falling in love with each other. Oh, how the hysteria spikes when one is already in a relationship." He muttered.

She rolled her eyes, "Dare you say." then paused. "Are you talking about David Brown?"

"Oh so you are aware of his liking towards you."

"I'm surprised you haven't acted upon it, it's been ages. I think he's dying down a bit, though."

"Hm."

Ophelia shuffled as much as she could in his grip to face him. "Nonetheless, I still need to go," she kissed him on the forehead.

He didn't let her go.

She sighed. "Sherlock, it's getting late now." She laughed. "You can pick me up later today, it's been an age since you last walked me back."

When he tightened his grip, she closed her eyes and took in a sharp breath. "Fine," she used all her strength to pull out of his warm grasp, suddenly feeling cold without the heat of his body. Ophelia sat up and watched him close his eyes again. "Get up, you're taking me to work."

He sighed. "It's six in the morning." He felt her chuck his shirt and trousers onto the bed.

"Not my fault you slept at four," she said in a light tone.

He opened his eyes and froze.

Ophelia was already fully dressed, packing her lab coat into a bag.

She stood up straight and smiled, tapping her wrist. "I'll give you five minutes, we're leaving in ten."

Sherlock watched as she opened the door and walked out.

"I'll make breakfast!" she said through the hallway.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

《▪︎▪︎▪︎》

A few days later, the detective found himself browsing the aisles of a supermarket with his best friend.

"Oh," said John, picking up a card. "why don't you go for this one?"

"No."

"But you haven't even looked at what it says!"

Sherlock's eyes flickered from one shelf to the next. "I've told you. It's not purple."

"So?"

"That's her favourite colour."