A day later you were released from the hospital. You had been lucky enough to be sent to St. Bart's considering your house was only a 30 minute drive away. "Okay so just make sure you apply the ointment to all of your scars. And if anything starts hurting or oozing something, call me."
"Thank you Molly," you said with a stiff nod. She gave you a tight lipped smile.
"And if you ever need anything else... A friend, a shoulder to cry on, advice, just give me a call. Seriously."
You nodded stiffly again, not trying to show how moved you were by this act of kindness. "Than-" You were cut off by Molly stepping towards you and giving you a friendly hug. You froze, not because the physical affection shocked you, but because the pain that erupted around your body at the slightest touch; it left you paralyzed. You moved your arms to hug her back and fire spread wherever your arms touched. You tried not to show pain, not wanting to make her feel bad, but you couldn't help the deep red shade of your face and the sweat on your brow. When she pulled away she observed all this.
"Oh (y/n) I'm sorry, I forgot about-I uh-"
"It's okay," you assured her with the sweetest smile you could muster. "That was very nick- Uh I mean nice... Nice of you.. Now uh, I have to gone- Uh I mean go. Thanks again." You slipped out the door quickly and immediately face palmed. You couldn't even thank a friend for a hug without sounding like an idiot.
You continued on your way, taking the elevator down to the first floor and getting ready to brace the real world once again. You were steps from the front door, you could see through the glass the world going about itself at its usual fast pace. Eager to rejoin it, you stepped forward, reaching your hand out to the push open the door, but you stopped when your sleeve slid up and revealed the scars that littered your arms.
You snapped your arm back, holding it tightly against your body so no one could see it although no one was around. With arms like yours you didn't know how you would return to society, or how you would ever wear t shirts and shorts again. "Miss, can I help you with something?" asked an older, good looking doctor from behind you.
"Uh, no, sorry," you mumbled as you flew out the door and tugged your sleeves down as far as they would go.
~
It was now two hours till Sherlock was to pick you up and your whole closet now lay on your bed divided into two piles: clothes that covered up your body and clothes that would show your scars. You picked up a dress from the "show scars" pile and slipped it on. It was your favorite dress, well it had been. The material fit the curve of your body and complimented your skin tone and eyes. You sighed sadly as you realized you would never wear it again. Maybe I should frame it as a memoir to my past life.. Your phone buzzed, interrupting your thoughts. It was Sherlock.
Plans changed, must find a serial killer at 7. Can I pick you up now?
Your eyes widened in fear. Now? You quickly typed back yes, not wanting to have to reschedule, and threw on a nice pair of dress pants and a long sleeved, flattering blouse. Thankfully you had already done your makeup and hair, so you were ready to go when the detective walked through the front door of your flat. You walked out the greet him, then remembered something - wasn't the door locked?
"How did you get in? I thought I locked the door."
"Oh you did, but it's so much easier to unlock it myself than knock. Wouldn't want to get splinters in my knuckles now would I?"
You just shook your head, trying to hide the smile that always sprouted on your face whenever you were around him and his antics, and followed him out the door to his car. He was much faster than you which resulted in him already having the car started by the time you reached it. You went to open the door, but he moved the car forward and you missed it. "Really?" you scowled at him. He smirked evilly at you through the passenger side window and you tried again. Of course, once your fingertips grazed the handle he moved forward again. "Sherlock Holmes," you warned. He rolled down the window.
"C'mon (y/n), have a little fun." Was this really coming from the man who couldn't take a joke? What had happened to the all too serious Sherlock Holmes you had gotten to know so well?
"This isn't fun."
"Well it is for me." He laughed and you glared at him, although the sound that escaped his throat was almost heavenly. "Okay I won't do it anymore, just get in."
You huffed and grabbed for the handle. This time your hand was latched on, but he still went forward. You went forward with the motion of the car and when you were still again, Sherlock started laughing. "Whoops, whiplash."
You tried not to smile when you finally got in the car and shut the door. You latched your seat belt as he sped away, a humorous smile still playing on his lips and his eyes darting towards you every now and then, although you never noticed.
~
You were now seated in an Italian restaurant on the south side of London, Sherlock in front of you, and happy couples on either side of you. This place was known for housing romantic newlyweds and 30 year anniversary couples - you wrinkled your nose in distaste. "Didn't expect you to choose this place."
"I thought it'd be nice," said Sherlock. Your eyes were glued to the menu so you didn't see the slight frown he gave as he realized you didn't like it. "Do you not like it? We can go somewhere else, I just thought-"
"It's fine, really Sherlock it is." You glanced up at him and he looked at a loss for words. You gave him a weird look, not sure why he was freaking out so much, and decided to break the awkward silence that had come up. "So, what do you need to know about the science of war and whatever?"
He gave you an odd look, like now you were the weird one. Finally he straightened his back in understanding. "Oh you thought I was being serious?"
"Well-"
"I just made that up."
"Why?" you asked, thoroughly confused now, especially since he was being so nonchalant about it. He suddenly looked nervous as he ran a finger through his hair.
"I didn't think you'd say yes to me taking you out to dinner if there wasn't a good reason why."
You swallowed, your throat turning dry. "I would've said yes."
"Really?" he asked in excitement, his eyes lighting up. "I just wasn't sure because I think I kind of annoy you and sometimes I annoy myself and I didn't think you would want to dress up and come here of course not because you don't like dressing up and you don't look great because you do look great and-"
"Sherlock," you said to stop him rambling. His eyes grew serious as he stared deep into yours.
"Yes?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You do annoy me." You watched his shoulders slouch. "But in a good way."
He smiled at you, regaining his confident posture. He folded his hands underneath his chin in a prayer position. "Well in that case Miss (y/n), you drive me crazy. But in a good way."
A/N
Sorry guys. This really kind of sucked lol.
I just haven't been motivated, not really sure why, just super tired and busy and my mind is running around a million miles a minute and writer's block is hitting me hard.
BUT
I got a new laptop and I have a lot of requests and ideas so hopefully I'll be back to normal in no time.
Random: Who were you in another life?
"I'm not crazy, my reality is just different than yours."
- Chesire Cat