Various Array of One Shots ✔️

Don't Leave Me Lonely >> Mycroft Holmes X Reader

Title: Don't Leave Me Lonely

Paring: Mycroft Holmes X Reader

Warnings: themes of break up, rain and cough/cold sickness

Spoilers: none

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Mycroft couldn't find you in the house. It was a big house, a very big house, but even though he had the help of his staff and his frantic sets of eyes and cameras in the public of Greater London and the entire country, you weren't found.

All he had said was he didn't think of you as you thought of him. In hindsight, it wasn't the best choice of words to say to you his partner that the feelings weren't the same. But that wasn't why he didnt want you around.

Desperate, - now following the advice of Anthea - Mycroft opened the great glass sliding doors that entered onto the terrace, his head swinging from left to right trying to observe your buoyant, kind (e/c) eyes and (h/l) (h/c) hair anywhere.

And there you were.

He saw you, facing away from him with legs crossed under yourself, the dark umbrella of Mycroft's abandoned beside you as you sat on the white wrought iron garden chairs. Your hair was soaking wet, hanging limply, makeup runny but chin high, like he'd told you you should be, the memory of it came to him suddenly - "You're special, gorgeous, _______; gracious, so don't let anyone tell you you're less. You are perfection." - and Mycroft wanted to comfort you, to tell you you were all those things he had told you, but then, the previous would be rendered moot.

He didn't like loosing.

But right then, looking at you, he feared one thing worse than loosing. And that was loosing you.

"________," he began, his voice low as he approached you slowly. The rain pattered down onto the shoulders of his suit like the tears that should have come from his eyes.

You leapt up.

"No, Mycroft, you -," you paused, wiping your tears, "No, I can't be with you. This isn't platonic - this isn't friendship. I can see it in your eyes. You're scared. You think it's weakness, a disadvantage, but caring is all you're going to crave one day. And I can't wait for that. I can't wait for you."

You went to leave.

"You're right," he blurted out.

You stood stock still.

He nodded holding a hand out to hold you gently on the shoulder. "________, please, I was wrong. I am afraid. I - nobody's ever made the commitment to like me, let alone love me. I was scared that if I let you in, I - they -," he seemed to have a frog in his throat, and clearing it - I'm not emotional, he reminded himself internally...no, I am, he accepted, "They will hurt you to get to me, no matter what I do to protect you, _________."

You nodded, moving closer until you were almost touching. "I know, Mycroft. I'm not here for that. We have something. And I don't want to throw it away."

Mycroft felt the rain's pace become heavier upon the pair of your shoulders. "I - I love you, ________," he stuttered. "And I was silly -,"

You shook your head, tittering as you gathered Mycroft in for a hug. Both of your bodies squelched as they met with thanks to the rain. "It's okay to care, Mycroft, you should know. And you don't have to apologise for being yourself. I love you as well."

He laid his head upon yours, and just before he could offer to lead you to the warmth of the hearth before the pair of you caught colds, you sneezed.

"As much as I love you ________, we are going to get sick -,"

You sneezed again. "Too late," you chuckled.