When I moved in with Sherlock, I kind of expected him to be... I don't know... dirty? Despite him always smelling nice, I didn't think he took a shower every day like you're supposed to. Since eating regularly wasn't a priority of his, I didn't think showering was either. But boy, was I wrong.
Almost every day, Sherlock showers, and usually, he invites me to do so with him. Sometimes, I accept the offer, and sometimes, I don't. It just depends on how I'm feeling. Like, I always ask myself beforehand: do I want to continue doing stuff around the house for the rest of the day, or do I want to lay on the couch or bed for the rest of the day because Sherlock wears me out in there?
Today is a day I want to continue what I'm currently doing. So, with all of Sherlock's books on the coffee table, I organize them alphabetically before carrying stacks of them back to the bookshelves to put up. As I begin to put all of the books starting with 'C' on the shelves, I hear Sherlock's voice from the bathroom.
"I started a joke, that started the whole word crying,"
I recognize the song he's singing as the Bee-Gees "I started a joke", making me smile. With Sherlock's beautiful singing voice in my ears, I continue putting up the books.
"Oh, if I'd only seen... that joke was on me. I started to cry, which started the whole world laugh- Ow! God dammit!"
Sherlock's singing is cut off by the sound of bottles falling down, and presumably by the cuss words spilling out of his mouth, some have landed on his feet. My eyes wide and actions halted, I listen as the shower turns off and two feet begin to sound against the floor. Turning to the source of noisy feet, I see Sherlock standing ten feet away from me, a towel around his waist and water practically pouring from his dark locks of hair. Water quickly gathers on the floor around him from his wet hair, abdomen, and legs that I seriously doubt he even touch with a towel.
"See," He begins, pointing at me. "This is why you should shower with me." He argues, causing me to smile. Placing the books down on the shelf, I walk over to the overly dramatic man, watching as a smile slowly rises to his lips as I get closer. "Because you're clumsy?" I ask him with a grin. He then lightly smirks at me, bringing his wet hands to my waist as he nods. "I'd be happy to join you, my love, but," I begin explaining myself, pausing as I stop in front of him. I then place my hands on his cheeks and bring his face closer to me in a teasing way. "Maybe you can persuade me next time by not drenching the hardwood floors with water and causing them to lift. That just causes more work for me and more yelling from Mrs. Hudson."
Smiling back at me, Sherlock then picks me up bridal style, making me cling onto him in fear of him dropping me. "Oh, look: now you're wet," He says with a sarcastic tone as I feel the water from his body soak through my clothes. "Now you'll just have to shower with me."
Oh, this man... he always gets his way, doesn't he?