The Exception // SHERLOCK x READER //

Chapter 8

3rd Person

Though the night sky was blanketed with twinkling stars, only a few could be seen due to London's light pollution. Still, it looked pretty. The car lights that zoomed past also added to the night life ambience (Y/n) had not yet experienced since her arrival.

She and Sherlock walked together in silence on the sidewalk. He walked in brisk, long strides, causing (Y/n) to quicken her pace just to stay side-by-side. She huffed every now and then and the cold night air began to nip at her nose, turning her face into a rosy hue.

"Where are we going?" she asked again.

He didn't bother to look at her while they walked. Instead, he would steal side glances just to make sure the woman was still there and not some way behind. "A place I know," he snapped.

"Well, I figured that much..."

Eventually, the two of them made it to the eatery Sherlock knew of. It was a quaint restaurant with the name Angelo displayed above the entrance. "Come along," he said, opening the door and walking right in without a pause in his step.

"Alright, I'm – oof!" (Y/n) shouted. Of course, Sherlock didn't hold the door out for her; it slammed into her face. She grunted as she pushed the door out of the way while rubbing her nose. Fortunately, it wasn't broken but, still, it did feel numb. She gritted her teeth and continued to follow her neighbor to a seated booth next to a window. "So, this is the place," she said, waiting for a decent conversation to start.

Finally, after minutes of avoiding contact, Sherlock turned to face her. "Yes, obviously," he then turned his attention to the approaching man wearing a white button-up and his hair tied back into a pony tail. He was smiling ear to ear as he handed them their menus.

"Hey, if it isn't Sherlock, my favorite customer," he said, laughing to himself. The man then looked at (Y/n) with raised brows. He leaned over towards Sherlock and lightly whispered, "Ah, I see you've moved on, eh?" He stood back up and smiled to the woman at the table. "She's a beauty."

Sherlock only shrugged off the comment, not really taking Angelo seriously. "She's only my neighbor, nothing more."

"New neighbor, hm?" the man shook his head with a smile. "Well, any friend of Sherlock's is a friend in my book! I'm Angelo, pleasure to meet you," he held out a hand to shake which (Y/n) accepted.

"I'm (Y/n), nice to meet you, too," she politely greeted.

Angelo nudged Sherlock as he read through the menu. "This man here cleared my name. See, I was about to be charged with a murder I didn't commit, but Sherlock figured out who really done it, saving me from spending some time behind bars!"

"He was actually robbing a car across town at the time of the murder, eliminating him as the prime suspect," Sherlock closed the menu to set aside.

"Better to be charged with theft than a murder though, right?" he chuckled while setting up a candle at the center of the table. "I'll be back to take your orders and, of course, both meals are on the house." Angelo then scuttered off into the kitchen, leaving Sherlock and (Y/n) to themselves.

(Y/n) took in her surroundings, admiring the ambiance of the lit candle at the table. Curiously, she looked to the other customers in the room. "Hm, no one else here has a candle." She looked to Sherlock desperately wanting to break the awkward tension between them. "Guess it's since you're his 'favorite customer' as he puts it."

As expected, his attention was elsewhere, pensively looking out the window. She briefly wondered what was going on inside that head of his; if he even cared about how others felt, or if he even thought about caring in the first place. But, soon enough, he snapped his head back to the table.