The Game is on - BBC Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Chapter 7 - Invitations

DISCLAIMER: I have not created and do not own the following characters mentioned within this writing, apart from Jonah

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Your eyes glanced around frantically for something to wear, your apartment had been practically torn apart since you began the treacherous task of finding an outfit for tonight. Pulling across another section of hangers you sighed in defeat

"That can't be everything..no..no..nope..definitely not..ugh, when did I even buy this?!" Shoving the unwanted items of clothing to the ground they covered your bare feet making your leg flick up to kick them away, causing the thump of fabric to hit your desk soon followed by a clatter of objects.

"Sh*t"

Hopping around over towards your desk the sight of smashed glass perfume bottles and their pungent scent filled your nasal passage with a thick musk. Coughing from the intoxicating concoction you rushed into the kitchen to gather equipment to clean the mess as quickly as possible. Returning back to the scene you dabbed away the fragrant liquid with a damp cloth before sweeping up the shattered glass chunks with a dust pan and brush. 'Well that was fun'

An hour passed before you reached the final conclusion to wear a black dress which hid craftily at the back of the wardrobe. You can't even recall how it stayed there all that time, but you didn't complain; even though it did feel weird, the smell was odd. It wasn't like the rest of your clothes at all.

A sudden memory pierced your mind to where the dress had come from.

You shuddered.

"Why does he have to be a memory on all of my nice things" the bitter tone in your voice lingered as your fingers ran over the delicate fabric of the dress. It was such a waste not to wear it out again, even if it did remind you of 'Him'.

After mentally battling to reason weather to keep the black dress on or not your quite exhausted form plonked itself next to the window out looking the dead street below. It was a Friday night and no one was out? weird.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Peering over to the hunk of plastic resting on your cluttered bed side table you lazily got up to see who had texted. 'God so much attention over lil ol me?'

Quite to your surprise it was actually Sherlock who had texted you, the creeping sense of a smile dared to scour your face. But it dropped rather suddenly..

'Are you going out tonight?'

-S

You hesitated. It's definitely hard to lie to a genius in general. But to lie to a genius who happens to be more than an acquaintance was even harder. Sherlock seemed like a wonderful guy even though he wasn't per say 'normal' and the gut clenching feeling you got every time you continued on with this seemed to get worse and worse as the minutes ticked by.

'Let's just leave this text unanswered'

This sentence hammered an echo for the next half an hour before it really was time to go.

Grabbing everything you'll need including that god forsaken phone, you reached for the door swinging it open to be surprised with the one and only...

Sherlock Holmes.

He turned quite calmly in response to you opening the door 'How can someone act so 'cool'? However this previous thought was diminished as you spotted the slight reddening on Sherlock's cheeks, it couldn't have been related to him running down the stairs unless he was really unfit... which he sure as hell wasn't! 'Oh god am I drooling?' rubbing your chin subconsciously you mentally cheered yourself when there in fact was no drool at all 'Yes, go (y/n) for not drooling over her new neighbour! Wait what was I questioning again? Is he okay.. it looks like he's just figured out that I'm some serial killer and he's spotted my plans to murder him brutally.. is there something in my teeth? Oh god I didn't leave the teeth whiteners in did I?!... no, phew close call. But there is definitely something bugging Sherlock. What the hell is wrong with the guy tonight?'