Sherlock was already gone when I woke up, like always. He's a morning person, while I am a night owl. I walk down the stairs to see Tewkesbury and Enola sitting at the kitchen counter. Both of them groan.
"Good morning," I say.
Tewkesbury lifts his head up, "You're up late."
"She never wakes up early," Sherlock says, walking through the front door with bags.
"I do wake up early, but only when necessary," I argue.
He sets the bags on the counter, "I got us pastries for breakfast."
The two teens in front of us immediately open the bags, both grabbing a couple of croissants. Sherlock grabs one as well and turns to me, "Aren't you going to eat?"
"I will later."
"You never eat in the mornings," he says.
I pat his arm as I walk around him, "I don't like eating in the morning."
I pour a glass of water and sit on the couch, staring out the window in front of me. Sherlock sits next to me and holds out a croissant, "Eat."
I give him a light-hearted glare, but take the croissant. There's no use in arguing about it because Sherlock Holmes is an incredibly stubborn man. He usually wins every argument. So, I eat the croissant.
Enola sits next to me and rests her head in my lap. "My head hurts."
I run my fingers through her hair, "That's what happens when you get drunk."
"How do you find it enjoyable, Sherlock?"
He gives her an annoyed look, "I don't."
Tewkesbury drags himself into the room, falling into the chair in front of us. He runs his hands down his face, "I'm never drinking again."
"I seriously doubt that," I say, laughing.
"I have to go meet John now. I'll see you tonight," Sherlock says, kissing the top of my head.
I watch as he leaves, a smile on my face. Enola pokes my face, "Stop staring at my brother, and pay attention to me."
Tewkesbury sits where Sherlock was and rests his head on my shoulder. "Do we have to leave the house?"
"Afraid so, my dear berry boy," I say.
He groans, "Don't call me that."
"Come on, we must get to the office. We have clients to meet," I say.
The two teens stand up, both mumbling in distaste. I throw my arms around them, and the three of us go to the office.
~~°°••°°~~
It's only noon now, and we've already dealt with three clients. Only one of them had an actual case, though. A missing horse is not that exciting, but it's better than nothing.
Timothée walks in with a smile, "Hello, friends. Has anything interesting happened today?"
"Enola and Tewkesbury got black-out drunk last night," I say, smirking.
He wraps his arm around Tewkesbury's neck, pulling his head down so he can ruffle his hair. "How's the headache?"
The two boys proceed to wrestle each other down to the ground. Enola lets out a sigh, "Take it outside. I will not have you two breaking another vase."
They sit up, their hair is messy, and they both wear lopsided grins. Timothée laughs, "You were the one that broke the vase."
"Oh, right. Well, I don't need another broken one," she says, hitting him with a newspaper.
I sit at my desk, watching them with a smile. Friends weren't something that came to me easily, but yet here I am now with several of them. The best friends I could ever ask for. It only took moving countries to find them.
"Why are you smiling?" Timothée asks.
He pokes my nose, and I slap his hand away with a frown. "I wasn't smiling."
Tewkesbury rolls his eyes, "She was probably thinking about Sherlock."
"I was actually thinking about all the different ways I could murder you and get away with it."
Enola laughs, "Annoying a detective isn't a great idea. Haven't you two learned that?"
"Ah, right. Better not mess with Sherlock's sister and his lover," Timothée says, winking at me.
I hit him with my stack of papers, and he lets out a loud laugh. Tewkesbury joins his laughter, the two of them holding onto each other. Enola rolls her eyes at them. "Why are boys so annoying?"
Tewkesbury finally stops laughing and pulls Enola into a hug, "You know you love me."
He kisses her, and she pushes him away with a smile. "Get over yourself, you useless boy."
"Come on, useless boy. We must go get paper for the hardworking women," Timothée says.
They wave goodbye and leave the room, pushing each other along the way. I turn to Enola with a smile, "They're so immature."
"Tell me about it, it's like I'm mothering my own boyfriend."
"I can't relate to that, thankfully."
She laughs, "Yeah, because you mother all of us!"
"Someone has to be the responsible one."
She smiles, "That's why you and Sherlock work so well together. You're both able to let loose around each other."
"He's just incredibly bossy," I reply.
She rolls her eyes and goes back to folding her piece of paper. She's been really into origami lately. Both of our desks are full of paper birds. The door opens, and in walks, the man we were just talking about.
"You're early," I say.
He sits in the chair in front of my desk, "Should I leave and come back later?"
"Absolutely not," I reply.
Enola throws a ball of paper at him, "You're interfering with my alone time with (Y/n)."
"You see her every day."
"So? You live with her."
He gives her a hard stare, "I'm the one that's in a relationship with her."
"I met her first."
"Are you two done now?" I ask boredly.
They argue every chance they get. It's funny, but sometimes it gets really annoying. Especially when it's about something stupid.
The two siblings look over at me. Sherlock clears his throat, "Yes."
"There is no reason for you two to be arguing about me of all things."
Enola frowns, "Sherlock needs to learn how to share."
"This is ridiculous," Sherlock says with a sigh.
Tewkesbury and Timothée walk in, the two of them laughing. Their laughter stops when they see Sherlock. Timothée sets the stack of paper he was carrying on Enola's desk. His eyes meet mine, and he gives me a nervous look.
"I should get going."
Sherlock stands up, "I'll walk you out."
Timothée's face morphs into a look of pure terror. His green eyes are darting back and forth between Sherlock and I. Tewkesbury smiles nervously and sits at Enola's desk.
"Oh, okay," Timothée says.
The two of them leave the office. I wait a few seconds and then sneak out, along with Enola and Tewkesbury. The three of us sneak downstairs, Edith gives us a weird look but doesn't question it. We crowd around the window, watching the two men on the street.
"I apologize for the way I've been acting towards you," says Sherlock.
Tewkesbury and I share a surprised look. I can see Timothée's eyes widen as he replies, "It really isn't a problem."
"I let my own feelings and immaturity control me, and that isn't right."
"I apologize, too. I admit that in the beginning, I was doing things on purpose to annoy you," says Timothée.
"We should leave it all in the past," Sherlock says.
The two of them shake hands, and Timothée turns to leave. Enola and I practically jump over Tewkesbury as we run up the stairs. He lets out a gasp and runs after us, tripping along the way. The three of us sit in our seats, just in time for Sherlock to enter the room.
"I know you three were spying on us."
Tewkesbury scoffs, "We would never."
"You fell while running up the stairs."
Tewkesbury throws a paper bird at me, "Only because (Y/n) tripped me."
"Maybe you should move faster."
Sherlock shakes his head, "It's getting late. We should go home."
Enola pulls me into a hug, glaring at Sherlock. I roll my eyes, and Tewkesbury does the same. He shakes his head, "My girlfriend and her girlfriend."
Sherlock and I leave. The sun is setting, so the sky is a dull blue. Our hands are clasped together, swinging back and forth. We only got two blocks away when I suddenly remembered I had left something.
"Shit, I left my book!"
Sherlock raises an eyebrow, "And you can't wait til tomorrow to get it?"
I give him a look, and he sighs. But, he doesn't hide the smile on his face, "Let's go back then."
We get back to the building, and I jog up the stairs, Sherlock follows me closey. I swong the door open to see that there are two extra people. Enola looks back at me with a smile, "Oh, she came back."
My eyes land on the red-haired woman, and when she turns around, I stumble back. Her blue eyes meet mine as she smiles, "It's been a while, (Y/n)."
The walls feel like they're closing in on me as I stare into her icy eyes. My heart races, and the familiar feeling of panic runs through my body, turning my blood cold. She steps closer to me, and that's when I finally gain control over my body.
I bolt out of the building, ignoring the confused yells behind me. My vision is blurry, but I run and continue running. Not even realizing where I'm going.
I moved on, and I finally found a person I love with all of my being. A person who actually loves me back, who does everything he can to make sure I know that I am loved. So, why does she have to come back? I told her I never wanted to see her again.
Why does she have to come back and suck the last bit of happiness out of me like a Goddamn vampire?
Author's Note: Oohh, drama. Don't worry, though, (Y/n) is very much in love with Sherlock, and would never do anything to hurt him. ♡