No Shit, Sherlock

The Handsome Stranger

"Did you run all the way here?"

He stands up, leaning against the wall behind him. "Yes, yes I did."

"And why on Earth would you do that?"

"I didn't want you thinking I stood you up."

I smile and he does the same. Maybe I actually will enjoy tonight.

"Shall we go?" he asks.

I nod and the two of us walk into the tea shop, next to the book store. There's about fifteen other people in here, and as I look around I recognize two faces. They both look at Timothée and then back at me, their eyes wide in surprise. Enola and Tewkesbury. Of course they're spying on me.

"Tewkesbury!" Timothée calls out.

Tewkesbury smiles and walks over to us, "Timothée, it's nice to see you."

"Nice to see you as well. This is, (Y/n)," Timothée says.

I glare at Tewkesbury, "Didn't think you were a poetry fan."

"(Y/n) and I are actually friends, she's best friends with my girlfriend, Enola."

Timothée smiles, "We should sit together then."

The three of us walk back over to Enola, I immediately grab her arm. "We need to go freshen up."

The boys nod and I drag Enola to the bathroom. Once we're inside she grins, "You didn't tell me he's hot!"

"Why are you two spying on me?"

Enola gives me a sheepish smile, "We wanted to make sure you were safe."

"I appreciate it, but I can protect myself," I say, sighing.

She opens the door, "We should probably get back, it's about to start."

We sit with the boys again, and listen to all of the poems the poets recite. As the night goes on I realize that I really like Timothée.

"This will conclude our meeting, have a good night everyone."

"I'll walk you home," Timothée says.

We say goodbye to Enola and Tewkesbury, then begin our journey to my house. I really do enjoy being with Timothée, he's funny and extremely nice.

"So where are you from?" I ask.

"I was born in New York, but raised in France," he says.

"What's France like?"

He smiles as he explains, "It's beautiful, the food is delicious, and the museums are magnificent. I miss it everyday."

"Then why did you move to London?"

"I needed something new. What about you? Why did you move here?"

I shrug, "Pretty much the same answer. Texas can be rather boring, plus my book sells better over here. My publisher thought it'd be better for me to move here."

"I've read your book, you're an amazing author."

I blush, talking about my book always makes me shy. "Thank you."

A man bumps into me, he turns around and apologizes, but turns back around to look at me again.

"(Y/n)?"

The universe is against me.

"Hello, Sherlock," I say boredly.

He looks over at Timothée, his blue eyes narrowed. Timothée notices the awkwardness and sticks his hand out, "I'm Timothée Chalamet. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Sherlock shakes his hand and looks back at me. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Timothée invited me to a poetry meeting."

"You're wearing a dress," he says, looking down at my dress.

I roll my eyes, "Yes, thank you for stating the obvious."

"I have to go work on a case. Enjoy your date," Sherlock says, his voice dripping with venom.

When he walks away I turn back to see Timothée staring at me, "Did you two date?"

"What? Absolutely not."

He grins, "But you want to date?"

I continue walking, he jogs to catch up to me. "You didn't answer my question."

"And I'm not going to."

He laughs, "What happened between you two?."

"I don't want to talk about it."

His eyes soften, "He broke your heart, didn't he?"

"That would mean that I had a heart to begin with."

Timothée chuckles, "You're a very interesting woman."

"So I've been told."

We turn on to my street, and make our way to my house.

"Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun."

He smiles, "I did too, we should go out together more often."

"Definitely."

He bows, "Good night, madame."

I bow back, a goofy grin on my face. "Good night, sir."

I make my way inside, a smile on my face. Timothée reminds me a lot of myself, I think we're going to be great friends.

"How was the date?"

I jump at the voice, "Tewkesbury! What are you doing in my house?"

Enola walks up, eating an apple. "We wanted to know how it went."

I walk straight up to my room, they follow me, but Tewkesbury stands at the door. I step behind my divider, and Enola helps me out of my dress.

"I really like Timothée," I say.

"He's a nice guy," Tewkesbury says.

I slip into my sleep pants and a flowy shirt, then step out from behind my divider. Tewkesbury is facing the hallway.

"You can turn around now."

He turns around and smiles at me, "So will you two go out again?"

"I hope so."

Enola squeals, "We could go on double dates!"

"Oh, I don't think I want to date Timothée."

Enola's smile drops, "What?"

"I'm not sure that I like him that way, I just want to be friends."

"He seems perfect for you," Enola says.

"Maybe he is, but I'm not interested in dating."

Tewkesbury sighs, "Still in love with Sherlock?"

"I was never in love with him."

"Whatever you say," he says back.