The Exception // SHERLOCK x READER //

Chapter 6

Sherlock only looked down with a neutral expression plastered on his countenance. He felt his heart twinge and, not being able to turn away such an innocent face, he backed up and gestured for (Y/n) to come in. He sighed, "Well, come in then..."

"Aha! I knew it!" She said nearly waltzing through the door in celebration. "No one can resist a piece of cake!" She set the box onto the coffee table and carefully untied its strings.

Sherlock looked on in amusement, though he tried his best to hide it, making his mouth to appear stern and thin-lipped. "To be frankly honest, I have no care for sweets." He shut the door and returned to the couch.

(Y/n) was taken aback, but kept her spirits high. "Nonsense! I'm sure you'll make the exception with this cake." She said, rummaging through the cabinets in the kitchen. She found two plates, a knife, and two forks and carefully walked over to the sitting area. "Here, let me just cut you a slice for you to try."

Sherlock looked on with a raised brow. 'Persistent, I see,' he thought while taking in the presentation of the cake. 'Hm, carefully crafted, little breaks in the icing, and a realistic flower made from confection on the side. Interesting.' He was impressed, even if he could not admit it to himself.

"Here you go," said (Y/n), handing his piece before serving her own. She waited anticipation, moving to the same couch he sat on just to get a better glimpse of his reaction.

She looked like a puppy waiting for table scraps during dinner. Sherlock looked to her then to the cake on the plate in his hands. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, clearly not used to people invading his personal space. "Haven't you gotten your own plate to gawk at?"

"Oh, sorry, I just really want to see if you like it," she laughed. "Maybe this is the day you convert to loving cake and take back your judgmental views on sweets."

"I highly doubt it," he scoffed. He then cut into the velvety cake, scooping out a proportionate piece with enough frosting to complement the flavor.

After chewing the piece and swallowing it down, he cocked his head to the side. The taste of it was better than anything he had before. In fact, he restrained himself from enthusiastically eating another piece of the delicious dessert.

"Ahem, it's..." he started with hesitation.

"Yeah, how do you like it?" asked (Y/n) with a fading smile and furrowed brows.

"...it's, well, it's interesting... that's something people say do describe food, yes?"

(Y/n) sighed in disappointment. "Okay, I get it, you don't like it." She slumped her head on the couch and closed her eyes. "I already know 'interesting' is used when people don't like the food."

Sherlock looked to the woman that sat beside him with her resting eyes. He took note of her long lashes that fluttered softly even when closed. He did not appreciate himself crushing (Y/n)'s sprits, but it had to be done – for his sanity's sake. Sherlock had never once been so easy moved but, ever since John made his aware of his terrible etiquette, he slowly began to break and crumble. He never wanted to let his guard down, allow people to prove him wrong or feel any sentiment. But (Y/n) began to obliviously test him.

Though touched, Sherlock kept to himself. "Sorry," he said, placing the plate across onto the coffee table.

She opened her eyes a second later, allowing Sherlock to look away and clear his throat before she could notice. "Well, if you don't like, then you don't like it," She said, getting up to reach for the plate he had just set down. "I'll just toss this one out then –"

"No!" shouted Sherlock, reaching a hand over (Y/n)'s to stop her from moving. Surprised, she turned to see him herself, scared to move even a muscle for a split-second of fear he would strike her down. But, his touch was even more surprisingly gentle. "No, leave it," he continued in a calmly manner. "I'll throw it out later; don't worry about it."

(Y/n)'s lips then curled ever-so-slightly in amusement. "Alright, alright, I'll leave it," she said, straightening her posture as she got up from the couch. "I'll make you some tea instead here while you sit down then, read your newspaper like you were doing before – "

Sherlock's composure regained itself, sitting back in his seat. "Why do you figure I was reading the newspaper just before you arrived? For all you know I could have just left the paper on the table without paying any mind to it."

She chuckled as she set the kettle full of water onto the stove. "Ah, that's true," (Y/n) walked over, this time sitting across on the other chair. "But the paper is flipped past the first page, meaning you read it at some time, and that the edges of the paper are crinkled enough to show it was held not long ago. If it was read earlier, the edges would have smoothed out by now."

"Hm," said Sherlock as he adjusted in his seat. "That is an interesting deduction."

'Maybe (Y/n) welds some kind of potential.'