71 - Birthday Bliss

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A/N - Warning - fluffiness ensues :)

Also note: I know what you are gonna think when you read the first paragraph but please remember that Sherlock is recovering from two stab wounds 😂

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Sherlock awoke to the pulsating glow of pale light from behind the window curtains. Inhaling soundlessly, he shifted his head slightly to look down at Elizabeth, whose head and hand lay upon his chest, still deep in her slumber. Five consecutive nights of waking up beside her or with her in his arms made him smile softly every morning - he didn't think he would ever stop smiling with her in his presence. His hand gently tousled her dark butterscotch brown hair and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Elizabeth groaned softly at the contact, curling up into him more.

"Good morning." His deep voice mumbled softly.

She croaked a barely audible, "Already?"

"Mhm."

As Elizabeth forced her eyes to crack open, Sherlock moved her hair from out of her face, getting a peek at her neck. He saw that her once jagged purpley-blue bruising was beginning to fade more, now appearing as a light yellowish-green ring around her neck.

"Your neck is getting better."

"I wish I could say the same to you."

Sherlock shrugged, "We can take off the dressings today - maybe you can say the same."

Elizabeth shuffled away from him, careful not to bump his abdomen, before sitting up to stretch. Running her hands over her face, she sat up against the headboard. Sherlock took in every action that she committed, amazed by how she could make even the simplest of things look so uniquely beautiful. She looked at him with a sleepy smile.

"Happy birthday."

"Thank you." Sherlock winced slightly as he pulled himself up into a sitting position next to the thief too, "What have you planned?"

"I didn't say I planned anything." She smiled suspiciously, "You told me I didn't have to try and one-up you."

"Stop lying." He wrapped his arm around her, "What tediously tormenting things have you organised?"

When he had said those first two words she felt guilt creep up and grab her heart, stopping the beating for a mere second. Laughing off the wrong feeling, she nuzzled her head into his neck, delicately kissing his skin before mumbling:

"Cake."

"Cake?"

"Yeah, you know the spongey, edible stuff people make on birthdays that they decorate with icing and candles, then gather around to sing happy birthday before consuming?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes but answered anyway, "Yes."

"Mm, well, I've been craving cake since my birthday and thought we could make a joint birthday cake together. We can get John and Mrs Hudson to celebrate with us - "

"John's gone to see his sister and Mrs Hudson is out volunteering today."

"Oh...on your birthday?"

"They...don't know that it is my birthday."

"But - " She sat up properly again to look at him, truly puzzled, "How?"

"Never bothered with it. Why celebrate another year closer to imminent deathizwat I thought before you." He flashed a quick smile at seeing her narrowed eyes.

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