BBC: Sherlock x Reader

To Be Or Not To Be | Part Two |

She hadn't expected that, him rejecting her in such a manner. He hadn't tried to be kind, and Y/n was certain that the man was incapable of such a small thing like kindness. She felt so low that night, she still felt low about it, she just couldn't deal. She couldn't stop the tears she cried when she left Baker Street, and only cried harder the more she thought about it, more so when the cabbie gave her pitying looks through his rearview mirror.

She wasn't lying when she told Sherlock that she hated him, she meant it. She meant it with every fiber of her being. She meant it then. But as the months passed, she had willed herself to forget about him, because he was out there being happy-go-lucky knowing full well what he did and she was drowning in pity and mourning a love that could've never been.

She was done with it.

She hadn't been in contact with neither John or Sherlock since the morning after that night, when she told John to check up on Sherlock because she was no longer going to do so. And she hated the fact that somewhere, buried under all the anger she felt she still cared, and sometimes she'd wonder how they were doing but didn't have it in her to give John a ring for an update.

Granted, John did nothing to her, and didn't deserve the silent treatment like his idiot for a friend. But she didn't trust herself to talk to him, knowing that at some point, Sherlock would become privy to their conversation. John even tried calling a few times, but she never answered, leaving her phone full of messages and missed calls and a sort of sadness in her she couldn't quite shake. So she left both of them in the back of her mind, and moved on from all of it.

Y/n sat in the cab, going through her old messages for the sake of nostalgia. She had long deleted the old ones with Sherlock, where she would text him a stupid joke and he would sometimes respond with at silly smiley face and then later tell her that it wasn't funny. She used to laugh then, she was happy, holding onto a hope that, without her paying mind to it, had been slowly sucked of light.

She finally opened the ones from John, who texted her as recently as yesterday morning. Most of them were asking how she was, asking her to pick up her phone, that Sherlock was worried.

Ha, that one made her laugh, and a wave of sadness and anger smacked her across her face. Like he would, that man doesn't even know what it's like to be worried about someone.

When the cab stopped, Y/n paid the cabbie and slipped her phone into her purse. She thanked him and got out, stepping onto a lively street. The large building that stood at the corner of the street loomed over her and she felt nerves flutter in her stomach. This would be her first date in a while, a long while, and yes, she was nervous.

She couldn't see through the large windows that dominated most of the place, well tinted for the patrons privacy - she bet she would see the street from the inside. This place was by far the fanciest places she's seen, not to mention she never actually been on this street before.

Luckily, she didn't feel too underdressed, and thanked her stars for not going with the more casual dress she chose before settling.

She walked towards the doors and paused at the calling of her name. Of course, she had to turn, and then she cursed, seeing two familiar faces on this street tonight of all nights was the last thing she needed. Especially not the faces of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

Y/n felt her insides freeze and her brain struggled between pretending she hadn't heard the man and going into the restaurant or waiting there. But she had already stopped, already turned, and John was already walking briskly towards her.

She groaned, quietly, under her breath, and put on her best I'm-so-happy-to-see-you smile.

"John, hi..." She started once he got near her, noticing how Sherlock had stopped ways behind the Doctor, and stared at her, but she paid him no mind. "What're you doing here?"