I sit on the couch next to Sherlock, reading a random fantasy book I bought yesterday. John is sitting at the dining table reading the newspaper, while Sherlock rests his head against the couch. Taking a short nap.
John suddenly smacks the newspaper down, causing Sherlock to jump. I set my book down and look at John in confusion, "Interesting article?"
"There's a ball tonight at the Marigold Manor, it's open to the public," he says.
"And?" Sherlock asks.
John smiles, "I think we should go."
I pick my book up and continue reading. I have no interest in dancing, especially when I've finally found a good book. John walks over to us, "I think it would do us some good to get out of the house."
"I don't dance," says Sherlock.
"I'm sure (Y/n) would love to go."
I set my book down with a sigh. "Why must you two interrupt my reading?"
"Come on, it'll be fun. And you still owe me Sherlock."
Sherlock sighs, "Fine."
"It starts in a couple of hours, so we should all get ready," John says, smiling.
I set my book down and walk over to the dresser in the corner where I've been keeping my clothes. Enola and I bought new dresses the other day, so I had a couple of different options. I pull the two dresses out and face John and Sherlock.
"Should I wear the blue one or the red one?" I ask.
"Red," they say, at the same time.
The red dress is stitched with gold thread in the shapes of various flowers. It was more expensive than I would've liked, but Enola had convinced me to buy it. I set the blue dress back down into the drawer and reach for my bag of makeup.
"You can get ready in my room," says Sherlock.
I nod and take my stuff to his room. Luckily, this dress is easy to lace up on your own. I remove my clothes and slide the dress on. Sherlock had bought a vanity a few days ago, saying that he needed another work desk and that this one just happened to come with a mirror. But I don't think that's the reason he bought it. Because I've been here for three weeks instead of one, and he still refuses to let me go home.
~~°°••°°~~
I give myself one last look in the mirror, making sure my hair is pulled back correctly. I can't help but spin as well, watching the beautiful dress swirl around me. This dress was definitely worth the price. I feel like a princess.
"Are you ready?" Sherlock says, from the other side of the door.
I pull the door open, and his eyes trail up and down my body. When his eyes meet mine he smiles, "You look beautiful."
"Thank you," I say shyly.
His eyes stay on me as I walk into the living room. John walks out of his room and stops when he sees me, "You make us look like slobs."
"Oh, please. You both look as handsome as ever," I reply.
My eyes land on my book. Hopefully, I can finish it tonight. That way, I can get the second one in the morning. Sherlock grabs the book and slides it into my purse before handing it to me. "You can read it when we get there."
I smile at him, and he takes my hand. John opens the door, "Let's try to get there before the crowd."
We walk out into the street, other couples walk the same way as us. All of them wear extravagant outfits, but as expensive as the women look, I can't help but admire my own outfit. I've never looked so feminine before, and I've never felt as beautiful either. John walks ahead of us, waving to the random men that call out his name. He was a rather popular man, much like Sherlock. However, he actually replied to the people who spoke to him.
"Red looks good on you," says Sherlock.
I look down at my dress and smile, "Thank you."
We finally make it to the manor. As early as we are, there's still a ton of people walking into the building. When we get closer to the entrance I stop.
"Enola?"
"(Y/n)?!"
I let go of Sherlock's hand and rush to meet Enola, who had also let go of her boyfriend's hand. The two of us hug each other tightly and I laugh. "Another ball? Haven't you gone to enough?"
"I have, but dating a Lord means I am expected to attend all of them."
We pull away from each other and I see that Tewkesbury is talking to Sherlock. The two of them watch us as they speak. I turn to Enola with a smile, "We should probably get back to our men."
"I suppose so."
Tewkesbury shakes his head as we join them, "You act like you haven't seen each other in years. You just saw each other last night!"
"It's been a whole day since we've seen each other," Enola says.
Tewkesbury sighs but smiles at me, "You and Enola both look very beautiful tonight."
"We look like ladies," Enola says, puffing her chest out.
Sherlock smiles, "Now let's see if you'll both act like ladies as well."
I bow to Sherlock with a smile. "I always act like a lady, Mr. Holmes."
"You four have fun, I'll see you inside," says John.
Enola grabs my hand, "Let's go dance!"
She pulls me inside, leaving Sherlock and Tewkesbury to follow us. The ballroom is beautiful. Expensive chandeliers hang above, and tables of food line the walls. The orchestra plays an upbeat song, and she giggles.
The two of us dance, trying to keep up with the beat. Neither of us are very good at dancing, but we're having fun and that's all that matters. When the song ends, we walk over to a table where Sherlock and Tewkesbury are sitting.
"We didn't come here for our girlfriends to ditch us," says Tewkesbury.
Enola rolls her eyes, "Then dance with me, you useless boy."
Tewkesbury smiles, and the two of them leave us to dance. I sit next to Sherlock and pull my book out. He rests his arm on the back of my chair as I begin to read. I didn't realize I had become so focused on my book until Sherlock touches my arm.
"I'm going to get us some drinks."
I nod, and he gives me a smile before leaving. I watch him walk away for a few seconds but quickly get back to reading. It's a good book, and I must finish it tonight. Or I may go crazy.
Sherlock's gone for a while, much longer than he should've been. I put my book back in my purse and begin to walk around. I scan the sea of well-dressed men, looking for his broad shoulders. My eyes finally land on his familiar face, and I smile. Until I notice the pretty blonde talking to him.
My blood runs cold as an unfamiliar emotion possesses me. The mixed feeling of rage and insecurity. Jealousy. One of the most dangerous emotions, and one that I am certainly not used to.
I hold my head up high as I walk over to the two of them. The woman notices me first, her blue eyes look me up and down with disgust. I wrap myself around Sherlock's arm and smile at her. "You've been gone for a while, Sherlock. I was beginning to get worried."
"Sorry, I was getting our drinks when Ms. Marigold stopped me."
Marigold. She must be the daughter of the couple that own this manor. Which can only mean that she is filthy rich, and has never heard the word 'no' in her entire life. I recognize the look of lust in her eyes as she stares up at Sherlock. Her loving gaze upon my man fuels my anger.
"And who might this be?" The woman asks.
Sherlock smiles, "(Y/n). My girlfriend."
Her fake smile falters. "Oh, how nice to meet you."
"Likewise," I say, bitterly.
Her smile returns, "I'm sure your lovely girlfriend wouldn't mind if we shared a dance, right? After all, this is my family's ball."
My hands tighten around Sherlock's arm. He taps the top of my hand, and I loosen my grip.
"I suppose one dance wouldn't hurt."
He gives me a sharp look before walking away with the woman. If he had rejected her offer, she would've thrown a fit, and possibly damaged Sherlock's reputation. I realize that, I truly do. But that doesn't mean I can't sit at the table and glare at them.
"Who is that woman dancing with Sherlock?" John asks.
"Some rich bitch."
He laughs, "Don't you think you should go get your man? They've been dancing for a while now."
"Can you watch my purse?"
He smiles, "Of course."
I march over to them, dodging more dancing couples. She notices me first, her smile drops the second she sees me. They stop dancing and face me. I smile as innocently as I can.
"Excuse me, but I would like to dance with my man now."
"I wasn't done."
I pull Sherlock closer to me, resting my hand on his chest. "You're done now."
The woman glares at me but walks away without a word. I smirk to myself and turn to Sherlock. He's smirking as well, "Jealous?"
"Shut up and dance with me."
We dance for the rest of the song. Sherlock's hand rests on my waist, and I smirk at any woman that looks our way. When we're done dancing, I pull him in for a kiss. He's shocked but kisses me back. When I pull away from him, I see that blonde woman is glaring at me.
"I don't feel like dancing anymore," I say.
Sherlock nods, "There are still a few people I should greet."
We walk over to the table and I take my purse from John, "Thank you, Watson."
Sherlock links his arm with mine, "Let's get these greetings over with."
He begins to pull me away but I stop him. I reach up and wipe the smudge of red lipstick off the corner of his mouth.
"I think you look better in lipstick than I do."
He leads me over to a group of men. There's four of them, and they all look to be about my age. As soon as they notice us, they look me up and down. Pigs. Absolute pigs.
"Mr. Holmes!" The tallest one says.
Sherlock shakes hands with all of them, and the one black hair turns to me.
"Who is this? Just a friend, I hope."
"This is my girlfriend, (Y/n)."
Sherlock's hand tightens around my waist and I smile. I love it when he's protective. Sherlock talks to the men for a few more seconds before leading me away from them. He mumbles something under his breath, but I can't understand it. A woman stops in front of us, a big smile on her face as she stares at Sherlock.
"Sherlock Holmes! It's lovely to meet you. I'm a huge fan."
Her boobs are practically spilling over the top of her corset, and her face is covered in a thick layer of makeup. She pushes herself towards Sherlock, and that's when I finally lose it.
"I'm not feeling well, Sherlock. Do you think we could go home now?"
I fan my face with my hand, trying to look as sickly as possible. Sherlock rests a hand against my forehead, "You do feel warm. I think we should go now."
We step away from the lady, Sherlock's hand never leaving my waist. Enola, Tewkesbury, and John are sitting at the table. They smile when we walk over.
"(Y/n) isn't feeling well, so we'll be going home now," says Sherlock.
Tewkesbury eyes me, "Right... I hope you feel better, (Y/n)."
"Thank you."
He continues staring at me, I give him a warning look, and he rolls his eyes. Of course, he knows I'm lying. He always does.
Sherlock leads me out of the manor, successfully dodging a few women who try to stop us. When we're outside, I let out a breath. Peace at last.
"It's a shame that I wasted such a beautiful dress on this. It deserves more appreciation."
Sherlock looks down at me, "I think all of the men in there seemed to appreciate it."
"Yes, but it wasn't their appreciation I wanted," I reply.
"I like this dress. I think you should wear it again."
I smile, "Maybe I will."
We continue walking in silence. I swing our hands back and forth slowly, but he doesn't comment on it. I'm just glad to finally have him to myself, without the eyes of every woman on him.
I open the apartment door and he follows me in. I turn around to say something but my back hits the wall behind me. Sherlock pushes me against the wall, his lips on my mine. I kiss him back and his hands run up and down my sides. I start to run out of breath so I pull away.
"You could've at least shut the door first."
He kicks the door closed and I smirk before kissing him again. His body pushes into mine more and I smile into the kiss. When he pulls away I pout.
"You're not sick, are you?"
I roll my eyes, "I may or may not have lied about not feeling well."
He steps away, walking over to the kitchen. "Why lie about it?"
I follow him and wrap my arms around him, leaning my head against his back, "I didn't like the way the women were looking at you."
He lets out a quiet 'hmm' and turns around to face me. "I know why you like making me jealous now. It's fun."
His fingers trace the top of my dress, just above my chest. "I really like this dress."
"Well then maybe you should wear it."
He rolls his eyes, "I don't think it's my size."
"You're right, and you look better without a shirt anyway."
"I'm glad you admire my body," he says sarcastically.
I pull away from him, "I'm going to go change now. This dress is incredibly itchy."
I unlace the dress as I walk, my hand holding the front to my chest. I stop and turn back to look at him with a smile. He looks away quickly, but I know he's watching me as I close the door behind me.
When I'm changed into my pajamas I walk out to see that he's changed as well. I sit on the couch next to him and realize that he's reading my book.
He looks over at me in surprise, "Shorts? I've never seen you wear shorts."
I look down at my sleeping shorts, "They're even better than pants."
"They're short," he replies.
"Well, that is why they're called shorts."
He turns his attention back to the book and I smile. "The beginning is slow, but it gets better towards the middle."
"This Geralt character annoys me."
I smile, "Really? He's my favorite character."
"And why is that?"
I lean my head against his shoulder, "He reminds me of you. Just a lot angrier."
He goes to close the book but I stop him. "Read to me."
And he does, his hand resting on my bare knee the whole time. I listen to the sound of his comforting voice until I fall asleep.
Author's Note: This story has over 180k reads now?! I feel like I should celebrate?! I truly wish I could thank you all in person, and give you all a high five. Anyways, remember to stay hydrated.
Live, laugh, love Henry Cavill ♡