"Well i can't see why you would turn down such a well paid case, detective."
Where Emilia Tewksbury wants nothing more than to find her younger brother.
gorgeous cover by @hxrryswand !! <3
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
LIGHT SHONE THROUGH the apartments window that morning, through the curtains and shining a light on Emilia's face, she was now wide awake. Getting up she quickly put on her clothes from yesterday, before opening the closed door to see Sherlock cooking by the stove, he smiled over to her before speaking.
"We can have breakfast first and then go back to the La Croix so you can change and finally go to Scotland yard and get the dowager arrested." He said, taking a bit of bacon and taking a bite of it, deciding it was able to eat before placing it on two plates. "Tea?"
"Yes please." She replied, smiling over to him before moving to the dining table and sitting down. "I still can't believe we cracked the case." She said, "My grandmother." She sighed, thinking back to the amount of years she had lived with the woman. "To think I lived with my fathers murderer for so long."
"People aren't what we usually see them for." Sherlock replied wistfully, setting down the plates and the two mugs of tea he had made before sitting down opposite her. "Do you think he found out? And that's why he left?"
"He seemed to be happy." She replied slowly, "But again like you said, people aren't what we usually see them for."
SHE HAD NOW BEEN fed and dressed, after a quick trip to the La Croix where she got dressed into a pale pink day dress, her last dress for the weekend. Meaning soon she'd either have to head home or buy a few dresses at a dressers. She could never go out in public wearing the same dress in just the span a few days, never mind the fact that they all were rather dirty.
The pink dress was her favourite one from all of her dresses, (which was a wide range) seeing as it was light and less likely to weigh her down the entire day and leave her sweating by the end. In the carriage, she sat beside Sherlock staring out the window as they passed by the market outdoor shops of London. Her hat was sat upon her lap and her gloves neatly placed together right beside it.
They sat in a comfortable silence, Sherlock flicking through it before sighing and closing it, setting it by the window of the carriage. "I can never read newspapers." He spoke, looking over to the girl who was still looking out the window. "They're incredibly drab, Oh and not to mention some of the stories they make up in them." He sighed.
"Have you had many fake stories of you in the newspaper?" She asked, looking over to where he left the newspaper.
"Hundreds, but I never remember any of them." He answered, looking away from her then to the other side of the carriage, "Have you had any of them?"
"Well yes, although I find them rather amusing." She replied, "When I was first allowed out to London along with my family, I had snuck out of a ball with my friend Dorian and was read aloud the newspaper by my grandmother who had kept me from all of the balls for a month." She laughed, "I was stuck in a small apartment for the rest of our stay bar going out with my mother."
