[CONTAINS SMUT] ‼️18+‼️
WARNINGS: This is a Sherlock book so obviously mentions of drug use
~~~
A simple tune is all it takes. A flood of memories returning to haunt- to plague every thought with regret and/or longing.
For you, a violin composition...
"For fucks sake, Sherlock!" You wriggle out his grip pushing him away. "I have legs for a reason!"
"Then use them to get into the cab," he hails one down, opening the door. "Get in,"
"No," you cross your arms.
"Get in,"
"No!" You stomp your foot.
"You're a child," he glares, getting in. "Either take this cab home or walk,"
"Where is John and Lestrade?" You interrogate, but the cabbie was complaining so Sherlock shut the door. "Don't you-" there he went. "SHERLOCK!" You yell at the fading Cab. "Sod this," you kick a small rock across the road, stomping your shoes against the pavement and throwing a small fit.
How you thank the stars that no one was around.
~~~
Shivering beyond belief, the clerk seemed almost pitiful of your state, watching you ascend the stairs with a scowl. John and Lestrade were back of course, apparently after Sherlock got back and once you were too far down the road without a clue as to where you were. Phone dead, you relied on drunk party-goers in the nearest strip club to point a helping finger.
Door slamming open, the hot steam of the shower was starting to seep out. He had just gotten in, and therefore still slightly clothed; it was a known detail when you were both dating that he made sure the water was the perfect temperature before getting in.
Picking the lock, you see him jump, glaring via the mirror. "Get out," you snarl.
"No," he was suddenly tugged by his hair still in only his trousers and out the door. "Y/n-"
Shut and locked, you slip off everything and toss it into the corner. Warm water washes over your body, drenching your hair and removing all the grime, providing you a moment of peace. This was what you needed. Settling down with your knees to your chest and head down, the moment of silence, feeling of heat over you and the slight dim light caused by the shower curtains, all tensions were given way to loosen.
~~~
Sherlock perks his head up when you exit, towel wrapped tight over your body while his lips were ready to spew shouts. "Not now, Sherlock, please," you shake your head as he lowers his lifted finger, mouth shutting.
All you wanted was silence. To think. To breathe.
He wasn't in the mood to bathe anymore, instead he turns away to remove his clothes as you change. You didn't want shouting. God, you hated when he shouts, especially at you. Especially now.
So, slipping into bed with him once the lights were flicked off, your head, no longer wet thanks to the hair dryer, lay on the plush pillow, another used to curl into your chest.
"You would leave me here in the cold, wouldn't you?" you accuse your boyfriend who had urged you into the cab. "Another piece of property to break!"
"Darling, I would never leave you, but this is becoming tedious," it was only a small disagreement but you were petty. "Y/n... come on, don't be like this," he watched you walk instead, the howling winds hardly prevented by the coat you wore.
You ignored his words, though they spoke truth all the way until you got back home. Shaking, colorless lips, and slight frost in your hair from the falling snow. Boy, was your point proven... what was the point exactly?
"Oh, thank god," Sherlock sighs, putting down his phone. "What was that about??"
"Proving a point," you stammered, waddling to the bathroom and turning on the hot water.
"You proved nothing," Sherlock pursed his lips, dropping his head onto your shoulder. "I'm sorry, love, but making yourself suffer is not the best solution," his warm hands wrapped over you. "You'll get a cold, no doubt,"
"Then so be it," you huffed, pushing him away and removing your clothes.
"Y/n, I'm sorry, okay? I was jealous, I don't know how else to react-"
"Maybe don't act like I'm your property!" Sniffling slightly, you felt the water hit your skin. "I don't want to talk about it..."
"Alright," he sighed, closing the bathroom door and waiting until you got out. There, on the bed, his arms open, you couldn't help but jump into them. Head nuzzled against his cozy sweater, his soft breathing matching yours, no words were spoken except a simple, "I love you,"
"I love you too," you replied.
"I'm sorry... for before," Sherlock mumbles through the darkness, still facing away.
"Which part? When you interrupted my conversation? Dragged me like a doll? Left me in the cold?"
"In my defense you chose to do that," he counters which oddly brings a smile to your face.
"Why do you care so much? Something about tonight bothered you, Sherlock," his silence spoke so much, and you knew exactly why he didn't provide a smart quip. "Were you... jealous?"
"No," he blurts out, feeling you shift under the covers.
"You were," the amusement you didn't bother hiding was clearer than day. "Why?"
"Maybe I didn't like those two," he huffs, folding his arms. "They were sketchy and-"
"And truthfully?" Your hand was now on his shoulder, his body melting slightly at the feeling of your skin against his.
"Maybe I still want you,"
"Want or need me?" the built up aggression, tension and all was starting to get to you both and in a single movement it all fizzles away.
~~~
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