Sherlock Imagines and Preferences 2

Pretend Girlfriend

After the rollercoaster that was 2020, I wanted to return to my imagines book to write a Christmas oneshot for you all!

I hope all of you are having a good Christmas despite the state of the world right now. And let's trust that the new year will bring hope and positivity for us all.

Thank you so much for your continued support even though I haven't been properly active on this platform in years now. I am still SO grateful for all of you.

I hope you enjoy this Christmas-themed oneshot! It's a long and romantic one ;)

Merry Christmas!

<♥>

You were sprawled across the sofa, a nearly empty family-size bag of crisps resting on your stomach. You shoved another handful of crisps in your mouth and watched lazily as a couple fell on the floor. 

It was three days before Christmas. It was supposed to be the best Christmas of your life, but your boyfriend had different plans. Only a week before the holidays, he broke up with you and moved to the United States to be with another woman that he had met on one of his business trips.

It hurt like hell.

You sniffled as you stared at the happily ever after the movie characters on your TV were getting. ''This is so not fair. They get a happy ending and I get broken up with right before Christmas! Son of a –''

A knock on the door startled you. You hastily got up, wiping at your cheeks and shirt to get the tears and crumbs off you. You ruffled your hands through your hair and yelled ''Coming!''

''Oh. Hi, Sherlock,'' you spoke upon seeing the impatient look on his face. He was your upstairs neighbour, together with his flatmate John. You had met him on your first day of moving in a little over a year ago. Surprisingly, you two kind of hit it off and became good friends. He often came down to your flat when he was bored or when John had taken his gun away.

''What took you so long?'' he complained, glancing into your flat.

You rolled your eyes. ''I was just –''

''Wallowing in self-pity again.''

You sighed. ''Yeah, I guess. What do you need?''

He invited himself in and sat down on your sofa, scowling at the empty bottles and bags on the floor.

''Sorry for the mess,'' you said quietly, your cheeks deepening in colour. ''I haven't had the time to clean up recently.''

''I can see that.''

''Sorry,'' you mumbled again.

Sherlock finally took a proper look at you and realised how messed up you actually were over this breakup. You truly had not seen your ex's infidelity coming. You had bags under your eyes and crumbs in your hair. There were stains on your clothes and tear marks on your face. He couldn't stand the sight of your hurt.

''Did you need anything, Sherlock?''

He cleared his throat. ''Yes, actually. There is something I wanted to ask of you. A favour, if you will.''

You nodded.

''As you know – since I have complained about it plenty of times – my parents are... impatient with me. They think it's time for me to find someone and settle down.'' He grimaced. ''Which is ridiculous, of course. And Mycroft's recent endeavours with Lestrade are certainly not helping!''