You Are My Mystery {Sherlock Holmes}

Chapter 29*

"Hello," I whisper to my other sister during the wedding ceremony. I try to keep my voice low to not cause a distraction. Stretching my legs, my feet hit the bench in front of me. "How have you been?"

"Probably better than you," she snarls, annoyance spilling from her mouth. She still faces forward, having yet to look in my direction.

"I highly doubt it," I snap back with a smirk. I look over to Sherlock, raising my hand towards him. "Meet Sherlock, my partner."

"You have a boyfriend?" She asks, totally surprised. Shaking my head in amusement, I send a grin her way as the ceremonial music starts to play. I look up to see my sister walking down the aisle, dressed head to toe in white. I glance at Sherlock, wondering how he's holding up. He briefly looks my way, his face void of any emotion.

"Hi," I smile, wanting him to look my way. God, he looks so handsome dressed up with his hair done. His back sits straight against the bench. He doesn't spare a single glance in my direction leaving me slightly disappointed. He's not here because he wanted to accompany me, he's here because I told him he had to be.

***

"Finally, the late-night wedding reception," I announce sarcastically, not too excited to converse with family members I haven't seen in years. Once again, Sherlock doesn't look at me which finally gets on my last nerve. "Why do you keep ignoring me?"

"I'm not," is all he says. He looks around at everybody but me. While I shoot a glare his way, someone taps my shoulder.

"Rachelle, I see you finally picked up a man," my aunt says as I turn her way.

"No, we're just-" I start but am soon cut off by Sherlock.

"More than that," Sherlock smiles but every ounce of my instinct informs me that it is, indeed, a fake smile. My aunt walks away and I pay her no mind, my peripheral vision too focussed on Sherlock beside me.

He doesn't love me.

"We're the only ones sitting here," I state quite embarrassed at the fact that everybody else is eating or dancing. It makes me feel so out of place, well, at least more so than I already am. Sherlock slowly stands, brushing off his suit before he turns to me.

"Dance?" He asks as he sticks his hand out for me. I look around, unsure of what has gotten into him. Just minutes ago he was ignoring me.

"Are you talking to me?" I ask in fake shock before I laugh. He chuckles as I take his hand. The smile soon vanishes.

He doesn't love me.

We step out into the dancing group. The pop song ends and is replaced by a slow song. "Great," I mumble. He looks straight ahead, placing his hands on my waist. I jolt, a bit startled by his actions. After a minute, I relax into his touch and give in by wrapping my arms around his neck. I look over his shoulder at the people dancing. I sigh, making Sherlock's grip tighten.

"What's wrong?" He questions, his voice low as his breath hits my neck sending a shiver down my spine.

"Nothing," I mumble, still spinning with him.

"You know you can tell me," he says in a sharp tone and I only nod. I should be able to tell him things. I want to tell him things... But the fear of rejection and embarrassment keep me from being open. He's the last person I feel comfortable admitting things to. He can be so judgemental and hurtful, even if he doesn't realize it.