Sorry that I took so long to update guys, exams for is still in full swing. But enjoy this and feed back is very much appreciated
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Sherlock Holmes, in being the man that he is, beauty is something that he never really notices. It's never something he's looking for, it's always passing him and going over his head. Sherlock is not the type of man to see beauty and appreciate it. With a mind like his, everything he sees is calculated, it has to go through his logic.
But when Sherlock sees something beautiful, and realizes that it is so. You better damn believe that it is.
If Sherlock could just sit in his flat all day and think about it, he would. The beauty of her. Everything about her was beautiful; Sherlock had made a special place in his mind palace so that he would remember every single detail. Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes would light up upon seeing him, despite him being in his foulest moods. The shape of her, her every curve, the way her breathing would change every time he was close to her. The way she would play with the ends of her hair when she was lost in thought, or a book. The way she could make him smile without doing anything at all. The silly things she does sometimes.
Sherlock especially knows of the woman's stubborn nature. Especially when he knows something is wrong and she refuses to tell him what it was.
Today Sherlock had made an effort -- a huge effort -- to make dinner, and talk with her about something other than his latest case. He knew sometimes the same thing over and over can be tiring, so he asked about her day. Her answers were short and sounded too rehearsed and they immediately put up red flags in his mind.
She barely touched her food that Sherlock -- with the help of John -- put hours into. He'll admit that his hand did tip with the salt a bit but it had already happened and he didn't have the time to do it over. But it wasn't the food, Sherlock knows that.
When he asked her if she was okay, instead of jumping into his deductions like he would have normally done. She was quick to dismiss him and tell him that it was nothing and that she wasn't really hungry. Sherlock let her be and not long after she left to get ready for bed. Sherlock decided to give the woman her space and slept on the couch. When he woke the next morning, she had already left for work.
That was last week.
She's avoiding him, he could tell, of course he could. He would always know when something was wrong. She stopped coming with him and John for cases, claiming that she's too busy or just not feeling up to it. She stopped coming to breakfast. And that was something Sherlock couldn't ignore. So Sherlock waited until she was coming home from work, and she seemed surprised to see him there waiting for her because he texted twenty minutes earlier to sayhe was going out on a case. She looked like a deer in headlights standing by the open door, key in her hand.
There was a few things Sherlock definitely noticed. She looked tired, extremely so; there was dark circles gathered under her once bright e/c eyes. Her face looked thin and sunken, not full and cherry as the last time he saw her. Her hair didn't have the shine to it that he had always admire. It was dry and dull and she obviously didn't put any effort into fixing it like she does every morning before leaving for work. As Sherlock observed the woman he noticed that she was gripping tightly to the strap of her bag.
"Good evening, Darling." he says calmly, watching her as she shifted nervously on her feet.
"Sherlock." she mutters, not watching him in the eye like she would normally. Sherlock raises an eyebrow, and before she got get a small window of opportunity to get away from him, he gets out of his chair and move towards her. She takes a step back, putting up her free hand, which Sherlock noticed was thinner than he knew it to be. She's thinner.
"You haven't been eating." Sherlock says, stepping in front of her so that she's have no where to go but back through the front door. But that won't stop him anyway. "You didn't honestly think I wouldn't notice did you?"
"Sherlock, not now okay? I'm tired and I'd like to go to bed." Her protest was weak, as Sherlock expected it to be in her state.
"I just thought you were wearing larger clothes but in truth you were getting smaller. You've been avoiding me in hopes that I wouldn't notice so I wouldn't have to do what I'm doing now. When was the last time you ate something Y/n?" Sherlock stares at her and she does nothing but stare at the floor between them. But it didn't take him long to notice that her shoulders had begun to shake and she was struggling to hold back tears. "Y/n."
As he said her name, she drops her things on the ground next to her and wraps her arms around his torso. Sherlock didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her smaller frame, and he felt of he held on too tightly she'd break. "I'm not perfect." she mumbles into his chest, sobbing.
"No, you're not." Sherlock says, "No one is. And you're not going to make it better by starving yourself." As gently as he could, Sherlock pushes her away from him by her shoulders. She sniffles and begins to wipe furiously at her eyes.
Sherlock grabs her hands and holds them in his own. "Y/n, look at me." It took her a while, but she managed. "Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see something so beautiful that even my mind cannot comprehend it. Something perfectly imperfect. I see you."
Sherlock smiles down at her before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "How about we go out for dinner? You can have that silly ice cream desert that you like so much." he asks softly and Y/n nods, smiling at last.
"I'd like that."
YOU ARE READING
BBC: Sherlock x Reader
Fanfiction!! DISCONTINUED!! Highest ranking: #3 in SherlockHolmesxReader #4 in Jim Moriarty Well, as the title says. It's mostly Sherlock x Reader, but I hope to write for more characters in time. Please enjoy! And don't forget to...
