Falling: a Sherlolly fan fiction.

Falling chapter nineteen

The simplicity of silence is beautiful. I let my head loll while enjoying the sound of nothing. It was just me, my thoughts, and a few dead bodies. There was something nagging at me. It seemed that ever since the night Sherlock and I made love, we've been drifting apart. He's been distant lately, colder. Maybe something happened. We're him and John fighting? Did I do something? He can be such a child sometimes. I locked the hospital door, and looked through my bag, making sure I hadn't forgotten anything. "Hello." a deep voice whispered in my ear. I gasped and turned around. "Don't do that! you almost gave me a heart attack!" I scolded. He just shoved his hands in his trenchcoat, and stood on his tippy toes. He looked so proud of himself. He was laughing his deep, velvety laugh. He kissed me on the cheek and grabbed my hand. "I have a surprise for you!" he smiled. "Sherlock, I don't want to see anymore fingers, eyeballs, tongues, or toes." He rolled his eyes. "Not that kind of surprise!" he took off. I was trying to keep up with his long strides, but quickly fell behind. I'm not sure what happened, but I managed to trip. I was falling, waiting for the face plant. I stopped falling. I opened my eyes. Sherlock had caught me inches before I smashed my face. He pulled me up. "Okay, ill slow down!" he laughed. Wow, he was in a good mood! He took my hand again, and began walking at a slower, but still brisk pace. We arrived home after 6 or 7 minutes. He let go of my hand, and dug his key out of his coat. He shoved it in the lock and turned the key. I walked in, and up the stairs. Sherlocks hands reached around my body, and interlocked his fingers with mine. I gasped, seeing what he was talking about. I turned around. "Oh, Sherlock!" I cried I wrapped my arms around him, and kissed his lips. I pulled back, and sat down on the leather chair, pulling the tiny, frail black kitten into my arms. "He's adorable!" I gushed, rubbing his little belly. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to give this kitty a million kisses, and that's just what I did. I almost started crying. "I thought mrs.Hudson didn't allow pets!" I continued, still rubbing his belly. "You think she can resist my boyish charms?" he joked. He started taking off his jacket. He was wearing that purple shirt that made my knees weak. He sat down on the arm of an adjacent chair, sterling his fingers under his chin. "So you like him?" he asked knowingly. "I love him!" I said, crossing my feet, and cradling our kitten. I remembered my manners and asked "Would you like to hold him?" He smiled at me. "Oh, it would be my pleasure." He held out his hands, and stroked the black kitten. "Tell you what," I stood up. "You keep playing with the kitten, and ill go take a shower." He shook his head, obviously mesmerized by the little kitten. I washed quickly, and went into our room to dress. Sherlock was already in there, sitting on the bed in his pj's, playing with the cat. I watched him for a second or two. It was so rare that you caught him out of his sociopathic ways, and see him being the 33 year old grown man, playing with a kitten. I closed the door, and dropped my towel. Completely nude, I walked across the room to dress, fully aware of his open mouth. "Sherlock, don't look!" I said embarrassed. "Hshaba" he slurred. "Molly, I've seen plenty of naked women, and let me tell you, your body is nothing to be embarrassed of. You are stunning and beautiful." He went on. "I love you, and to have been gifted with a smart and beautiful woman like you is beyond me." I blushed. I slipped a pair of his sweatpants, and a t-shirt. I walked over to him, and kiss him. "I love you, too, Sherlock Holmes."