Amor Before Moriarty - A Sheriarty Fanfiction (Sherlock)

Roses.

(A/N - Hiya guys! Wow, about a thousand people have read this now. As hard as it is to believe that people would willingly read my work, I've tried to come to terms with it, so that I can say thank you. Thank you so, so much for reading, and voting. It makes my day every time I get your lovely comments, too! Truly, it does. It has done so much for my confidence; thank you! If I can return the favour, by reading yours, or chatting, then please PM me, as I'm always happy to add your wonderful stories to my reading list, or chat/ listen to you lovely people. 

Also, I know the description of Moriarty's appearance doesn't really match up to the legend in BBC's Sherlock; just still try to imagine Andrew Scott, but with these different features. I sort of need him to look like this, for what's coming later (when he get's a makeover ;) ). 

P.S This chapter was inspired by two songs: Solomon Burke & De Dijk's "Text Me", and Coldplay's "Yellow" - I would recommend lsitening tot hese awesome songs.

I hope you enjoy this, there's gonna be a lot of sweet fluff.)

Still Date Night - Nov' - Yada Yada

Dear Lovely,

Oh God, I have really just got to tell you about absolutely everything that transpired tonight! 

I'm sorry about earlier - I was feeling just a tad bit nervous. I'd had no need to, it turns out, as this night was fucking brilliant - excuse my language use. Well, not that much cause to be nervous...

I still don't know what I did to deserve such a night.

So, I'd put my best suit on; black and almost shiny, a tux practically, with a fresh-paper-white undershirt. Only the buttons and cuffs had needed replacing, so I had both green buttons and green - jade cuff-links, to match my eyes. ( OK, I splashed a little cash on the cuffs, but I am not worried, considering the plan!) 

I'd put this on; re-brushed my teeth (so they looked a lighter shade of yellow than normal); I slicked back my dark red waves, for once; and applied the usual guy-liner. The only thing I didn't do was pluck my eyebrows - as usual I just could not be arsed with such a bother.

I then sat on my bed, half an hour earlier than we'd agreed, and tapped my feet on the floor, nervously. Jack had been grinning all the while, dropping in comments like how he'd leave the room empty for me tonight - he'd be with Lucy, anyway. I would stick my tongue out at him, and then continue to stare at the tick-tocking clock.

 I felt restless; had dishevelled my hair by runing my hands through it (I re-styled it the first five times, but didn't bother after that), and bit my bottom lip almost 'till it was bleeding. So, sighing, I fell back on my bed, and started writing that earlier installment of you. I honstly was going to explain, but then I heard a nock at the door. I looked up at the entrance-way for what felt like a millenia. My heart thumped against it's rib-cage. It could have broken through, ripped it's way out my chest, and ran away, for all I knew. I would still be sitting, frozen, staring at the door. 

There was another nock at the door, one that was more rhythmic. Jack gestured towards it - "Well aren't you going to answer it?" I stared at him, not comprehending. Then there was another, louder, more demandind thump, and I jumped off of my bed. I stood there, feeling like someone had tried to shoot me; adrenaline coursing through my body. I edged towards the door. I undid the latch, and opened it. Sherlock stood there, in all his glory. I felt like I should say something witty, like "Sorry, not today" as if he were the pizza man, but all I could seem to manage was some gaping.

He looked devine, in a dark-blue suit. His right arm, which I hadn't even noticed it's being hidden behind his back, uncurled to show me the boucet of roses his hand held. I eyed them, shocked. Sherlock smiled, "Incase you hadn't realised, these are for you." I grinned.