perception of the mind (sh adaptation)

Thirty Five • Suicidal Vines and The Dusty Tattoo

"The hardest thing is not talking to someone you used to talk to everyday."

-Socrates, c.470- 399 B.C

《▪︎▪︎▪︎》

Although Claudia Grover was the older twin, she never really got her way.

Her sister had something she never had - confidence. Always spoke up when she didn't like something, had a better relationship with their parents, always got her way.

But Claudia found comfort in other things; such as constantly staying out late as a teenager, making bad decisions, because she knew that either way, her sister would take the spotlight.

Or like how she once got a tattoo of a semi colon on her left arm, even though neither she, or anyone she knew was suicidal. Now every time she wore no sleeves, got sympathetic stares - like she even knew what it meant at the time.

But it happened because she was drunk.

And when Claudia was drunk, she did a lot of weird things.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay? I dunno, might want to ask me some questions as well."

"Dad, it's fine. I'm sure if the police want you they'll go to your house. It's my apartment they want to see."

He hovered by the front door. "Sure?"

Claudia shuffled on the couch, trying her best to tuck a bottle of alcohol under it with the heel of her shoe. "Yes."

"Okay." He glanced around one more time before letting his eyes fall on her. He pointed to an open laptop sitting on the table. "What're you doing?"

"Work.."

"What work?"

"Flight details, and stuff.." She rolled her eyes. "Dad, they're coming, in like, ten minutes. Leave."

Once he left her apartment, Claudia rushed to her laptop. She didn't necessarily lie when she said she was working - copying down a list of flight codes into a message and pressing send with a beating chest, instantly regretting her decision.

Almost immediately, there was a response from the number.

You've been very helpful.

《▪︎▪︎▪︎》

"The social worker might come by at three. I'll be at work, so just.. Let her in." Ophelia ran her hand over her stomach with dense breaths as Sherlock nodded.

She glanced around the room before standing by the doorway with a soft sigh.

"I'll see you soon," he offered.

Ophelia turned around and made her way down the stairs.

The silence immediately rang in his ears once she left, leaving his thoughts dry and brows heavy on his face. It hadn't been more than a week since Ophelia had confronted his disappearances yet somehow their quiet had been more intense.

They were a young couple - diving headfirst into voids of unknown lives without a second guess as to where they were headed in the future. Which meant that they argued; petty and stubborn miscommunications, or simple disagreements which were all quickly made up for with a kiss and conversation addressing it.

It wasn't unusual, but because Sherlock was so calm about something Ophelia deemed to be his fault, it was different. Entirely.

His phone rang. He pulled it out with a sigh. "Yes?"