WhoLock Imagines

It Won't Kill Ya- Sherlock

Song is: It Won't Kill Ya (feat. Louana) by The Chainsmokers

Sorry for (another) long wait. I had a near-death experience and a long period of writer's block... But I'm okay now! So, back to writing.

I know as the night goes on// You might end up with someone// So why do I bite my tongue?// Oh, I wanna know ya

Ivy and ferns grew through the crevices of the old winding stone path, which led directly to the colossal structure. The mansion loomed proudly behind iron gates and a brick wall. The guards at the door took one look at you and your invitation, before letting you inside.

You walked passed a marble fountain and into the house. Immediately, you were faced with a golden staircase into an extravagant hall. There were musicians dressed in black suits with tails playing drawling tunes.

High class citizens stepped with the beat, twirling with black suits, flowing dressed, and all of them unrecognizable behind masks.

Glancing around, you found that there was no sign of Sherlock. That being said, everyone looked like strangers here. You smoothed your dress out, knowing that he would most likely find you, and walked down the stairs. You felt your gun press against your leg.

There was to be a murder at this masquerade ball, after all. You stood awkwardly to the side.

"Dance with me," said a familiar, rich voice.

You glanced over to see a tall figure standing next to you. Hair slicked back, face hidden behind a black mask, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. "I won't kill you."

"Of course," you responded, taking a gloved hand. You let the man take you to the center of the dance floor. As he turned to face you, you were absolutely sure it was Sherlock. Just by his eyes and voice, you knew.

He put a hand on your waist and pulled you closer.

"You look like an outsider," he said, voice like dark chocolate. "You need to dance."

"I am dancing."

"You weren't before." He stepped forward as you responded. Sherlock was the music himself and his movements flowed with a dazzling grace. His entire being moved with a purposeful clarity. You couldn't help but feel inadequate in his arms.

I'm lookin' around the room// Is one of those strangers you?// And do you notice me too?// Oh, I wanna know ya  

Baker Street was silent until a single note drifted through the air. You didn't quite hear it at first-- it wasn't melodic or harmonious or complicated. It was a single note that rung out and faded. And then the music started, coming in like a summer wave. The receding melody as it rose and fell with every crescendo and diminuendo. 

It was a violin.

You walked up the stairs, remembering that Sherlock had called you over wishing to discuss something about John and Mary's wedding. Even when the step creaked under your foot, the bow did not falter across the strings. 

You opened the door to see Sherlock and some recording equipment. He didn't seem to notice you, he continued playing. The song was solemn and happy at the same time; a rush of emotions with a solid tempo.

Sherlock lowered his bow and pressed a button on the recording device.

"Dance with me," he said. "You need practice for the wedding. After all, you are one of the bridesmaids."

"Yeah... wait, what?"

His arm already wrapped your waist and his hand joined with yours.

"I said... dance with me."