Every Fairytale Needs A Good Old Fashioned Romance (Molliarty Fanfiction)

Chapter 1: Aftermath

Hello fellow Sherlockians! (I am assuming you are if you're reading this fanfiction!). This is my first Sherlock fanfiction so apologies if it's not as good as the others on here. My OTP is Molliarty, hence the Molliarty fanfiction. Just to warn you, this story does have a LOT of adult content, sexual themes, violence, strong language, and controversial topics, so if this is not your thing, PLEASE TURN BACK NOW! I hope you enjoy the story and of course, all feedback is welcomed. Enjoy! C: <3
So here I was again. Left broken and bound just like I assumed I would be the moment Sherlock Holmes decided he needed nothing more from me. I guess I should have known that it would end up this way, but I my silly, infatuated self was of course too heavily distracted of what it would feel like having his lips smashed against mine afterwards, rather than his own manipulative intentions. Perhaps I should have been aware that one day he would use my loyalty to help only himself, though of course I wasn't to know the entire expansion of Jim's "Final Problem". "The less you know about it Molly, the better. I want you to have reasonable deniability about this in case you are questioned upon this topic by some of Moriarty's outstanding associates" Sherlock had stated to me in his usual drawl of boredness, seeming it more of a chore to explain the motives behind his plan. I didn't dare question him though, I knew Sherlock would know what he was doing, despite the weird requests I had received from him.
The loneliness that followed after Sherlock's dispatch was unprecedented; nothing could match to it. Even the smallest reminders of Sherlock presence made me really realise just how much I needed him. I had discovered a long forgotten shirt lurking in the spare room of my flat while clearing out some of my old things, and even this was enough to spark a deep emotional response to such a simple garment. I still didn't know if this was just infatuation, but I hoped this sort of...grief for Sherlock's departure would soon find it's solace.

Now, sitting at home, I found myself having nothing better to do than watching shitty day time television to pass the time. Greg had kindly given me early annual leave in order to get my mind back on track. Even though I knew Sherlock was still alive, the time off really was needed.
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A loud knock on the door jolted me fully out of my daydream, having stared constantly at the television set for so long that my eyes had started to water. I rubbed them with hostility before elevating myself of the sofa, sighing heavily and walking over towards the front door of my 5th floor apartment, wondering who on earth could be visiting me. Upon reaching the door, my hand reached over to the handle and pulled it down gently, opening the door and becoming faced with a familar face, my own contours managing to stretch a small smile of pleasant surpirse.
"Hi Greg-- I mean Dectective Inspector".
His own hands were tucked lazily in his pockets as he looked over at me with his wandering green irises, his own smile mimicking mine down to a T. It was strange seeing him in nothing more than a pair of worn demin jeans, and an old sweater the had quite obviously had for quite sometime, but it was nice to have some normality being brought to my day.
"Hiya Mols, I er..Was just stopping by to see how you were, I mean I was in the neighborhood so I thought I might stop by"
I offered him another small smile, tucking a stray piece of my long auborn locks behind my ear and looking away from him, my smile widening slightly in response to his kindness.
"Well Uh...Thank you Greg..it's a lovely sentiment. At least someone hasn't completely forgotten about my existence"
"I could never forget about you Mols, despite what has happened"
I could see he was having some reservations about what he had just said, so instead of replying, I carefully stepped out of the way of the entrance of my flat and pushed the door open a little wider, ushering him inside.
"Thank you..Please come in Greg, I'll go and put the kettle on. Tea isn't it? One or two sugars?"
"Cheers Mols. Two sugars. Black."