"(Y/N)," you replied.
"(Y/N)," he repeated slowly as if seeing how the name felt on his tongue. It tasted sweet on his lips.
"Yeah, in the flesh" you chuckled, leading him out into the light.
"What are you doing out this late?" Sherlock asked, seeming to grasp control of himself once again. You loosened your grip but let your hand rest on his forearm just in case.
"I could ask you the same thing, Mister Holmes," you replied.
"Well played," he muttered.
"So, are you going to answer me?" You asked.
"It's for a case," he said from memory as if he said it often.
"Hmm, okay then," you said.
"Do you want to get some chips? I'm starving," he asked. You thought for a second before replying.
"Yeah sure, I don't see why not. Maybe it will give you some time to sober up."
"Great, I know a 24/7 place just up the road," Sherlock said. You nodded. He walked ahead of you, fully regaining his balance and his steps becoming more solid.
"Slow down Roadrunner. Calm yourself, we'll get there when we get there," you laughed as he walked faster.
"Alright. Just wondering, has anyone ever told you how impossible it is to read you? I'm trying to deduce you but there's nothing to deduce, are you real?" Sherlock asked.
"Um, no, but ... thanks?" You said, tilting your head in confusion.
"No, no, it isn't a compliment, it's quite frustrating," Sherlock corrected.
"Oh," you replied, glumly.
"It's wasn't meant as an insult, either. It was just an observation," Sherlock added quickly.
"Alright smarty, has anyone ever told you that you are a terrible conversationalist?" You asked.
"Oh yes, it's all they ever seem to say," he chuckled. You laughed.
"No, you can't possibly be that bad," you said. He shook his head.
"You can think that," he mumbled.
"Is this it?" You asked, pointing up to the lit sign above you.
"Oh, yeah," he said, opening the door for you. The man at the counter eyes you suspiciously as you ordered you chips.
"So, you say you can't 'deduce' me? What does that mean?" You asked as you took a seat in the far corner of the little cafe.
"I can read people like books. I notice little things that show the hidden character of a person. The way they speak or look or act makes everything blatantly obvious for me," he explained. You were fairly certain that he was mostly sober now, though you had your doubts.
"Can you do it to anybody?"
"Everybody," he confirmed.
"Except me."
"Yes. Except you, for some reason."
"Prove it," you challenged.
"Hmm, alright," Sherlock glanced around the room before stopping to gaze at the man behind the counter. He smirked. "That man over there. You can see it in the way he looks around, he's upset we're here. He wants to leave, he keeps looking at his watch. He's eager to meet someone, you can tell because he keeps checking his phone for texts. He is wearing a wedding ring, but it is in disrepair, that alone shows the state of his marriage. So obviously, he is hiding that he is cheating. He wants us to leave so he can go and visit his mistress without his wife becoming suspicious of his whereabouts, it's probably why he chose to work at night."
Midnight Meetings
Começar do início
