So this is my first time interacting with you, and I have to say that I'm a bit nervous because you just seem so cool, too cool for me to talk to. If you aren't too busy, and if you wouldn't mind, could you write something Sherlolly (obviously) with Mazzy Star's "Flowers In December," specifically "They say every man goes blind in his heart, They say everybody steals somebody's heart away, And I've been wondering why you let me down, And I been taking it all for granted"
@jessies330 You’ve literally got no reason to be nervous because I’m the biggest dork ever like I legit cry when it gets serious in Disney. Like at the ending of Brave. But let’s just keep this a secret between you me and the internet ><
Before I let you down again,I just want to see you in your eyes.I wouldn’t have taken everything out on you,I only thought you could understand.
"I’m sorry, Molly." Sherlock’s head was bent in supplication, a rare gesture of apology. "It was awful of me to do that to you, and I apologize."
Molly’s eyes softened as she opened her door a little bit further, peering at Sherlock through the slit. She shuffled, feeling a tad exposed in her just her jammies. “It’s not about me though. It’s about how you let John down. How could you do that to your best friend, Sherlock?”
Sherlock lifted his head, his cerulean eyes meeting hers. “I won’t do it again. I promise.” He hesitated. “Can I move back in now?” he asked, his eyes wide.
The images of him Mrs. Holmes had showed her flashed into her mind. Messy curls, blue, blue eyes, and the light hint of a smile that played at the corners of his mouth, even now. Only his face was much more angular now, and there were shadows under his eyes and in his eyes. She opened the door, and he took that as her invitation.
They say every man goes blind in his heart,And they say everybody steals somebody’s heart away.And I got nothing more to say about it.Nothing more than you would me.
He slid in as quickly as he could, his gaze never leaving hers, as if scared she would suddenly change her mind and tell him to leave again.
Like she had just a month ago, tossing out all his belongings, every last remnant of him, including the half-eaten carton of Chinese, out the door. He could still see the coldness in her face, feel the harshness of her tone as she told him he could come back when he was clean. She didn’t want someone who didn’t care for his friends.
So he’d cleaned up his act, for her and for John, because they were the most important people in his life. He wanted to shout now, just for a second, a single second, because he hadn’t thought she would take him back, not after he saw the determination in her eyes then.
He turned around, enveloping her in a hug, his familiar blue scarf turning her vision blue. At first, she was stiff with surprise, but then she relaxed, her arms coming up to return his embrace.
They stayed like that, not speaking, for a few minutes, simply breathing the same air, until Molly let out a little breath of air. “Okay, well you can bring your stuff by sometime. I’ll give you back the key.”
Sherlock didn’t reply, his nose still buried in her shoulder. Then, lifting his head slightly, he spoke.
"Molly, I’m not currently on a case." He leaned back a little and blinked at her, then at the clock blinking 10:43 pm. His gaze turned back to her. "I’m hungry. Can you cook up some bacon?"
