You Are My Mystery {Sherlock Holmes}

Chapter 26*

"Of course his mind was changed," I spit out, angrily while Sherlock looks unfazed. I sit in 221B next to Sherlock on the couch. He doesn't say a thing. "Why did you take that case without me?"

"I solved it faster than I would have with you," he states while he fiddles with the laptop. I scoff, annoyed with his response.

"What's that supposed to mean? That I slow you down?" I ask, looking up from my hands. My mind is not calm enough for me to think.

"Yes, precisely. You're a distraction," he states obviously, and his typing ceases.

"Okay, at least tell me next time and I can be prepared," I mutter, not knowing what else to say. I'm anything but a distraction.

"Fine... I didn't know that would happen," he mutters truthfully as he shifts on the couch.

"I know..." I trail off, considering all of the possible outcomes of our encounter with Moriarty. There was a reason he didn't kill either of us.

"I noticed you didn't drink the water," He points out as Mrs. Hudson walks up the steps.

"Of course I didn't. It was poisoned. Do you think I'm stupid?" I snap, mad that he'd even think I would fall for that.

"Do I have to answer that?" He smirks while I frown. I spot Mrs. Hudson in the kitchen looking at the water.

"Do not drink that, Mrs. Hudson," I demand, my voice raising. She looks at me, puzzled before she dumps it in the sink. We sit in silence for a while before Sherlock takes a deep breath in.

"Earlier," he starts, hesitating to speak. "When we were in the pool..."

"Yes?" I ask, impatient with him. "Get on with it."

"You would have saved my life. You would have risked yours for mine. Why?" He questions, not looking at me. My mouth instantly closes-- I don't have an answer for him or at least an answer that he'd like.  He turns to look at me, "Why?" He asks again, trying to get a response from me.

"Because I can. I have a heart, I care for people," I lie, knowing it was more than just that. I wouldn't have done that for anyone else. I don't care for people, I care for him. While keeping my face straight, I can tell he didn't fall for my response. I need a distraction. Say something mean to distract him. "At least I have a heart," I spit out a lie again. He grits his teeth before taking a brisk step toward me. His hands rest at his side and his hair is unrully.

"You always seem to think I don't have a heart," he starts, venom dripping with every word he speaks. "And that's what makes you-"

"Stupid? Let me guess... It makes me stupid. Well, you know what, I would have saved your life," I spit out, cutting him off before he can say anything else to make me more frusterated. He steps toward me again and we are nearly face to face. His hot breath hits my neck and I can't help the warm feeling that makes its way through me.

"No. It makes you foolish, and exactly for that. I don't want you risking your life for mine," he whispers angrily. His jaw clenches and I can't help but stare at everything but his eyes. My eyes glance over his cheekbones, his hair, his lips.

"Why? Is that too selfless for your taste? Or do you not want someone to be known as your savior? I know how you get when it comes to your reputation and how people perceive you," I quip, trying to distract myself from his handsome features. God, he's so attractive when he's angry.

"No," He whispers leaning forward, his breath on my ear. "Because I want to risk my life for you." I freeze, not expecting his response. An odd feeling pools in my lower stomach and a shudder rips through me. I open my mouth to say something, but he stops me. "Don't."

I take a step back before walking away to my room, leaving him standing there.

***

It's hard to believe that he made me speechless. What was I supposed to say to that? Apparently, he didn't even want a response from me by the way he shut me up. I watch my door like a hawk, hoping it doesn't open, but somewhat hoping it does. He could step into my room right now, ready to same something else that makes me flustered. That feeling I got is not something that happens often. I play with a string on my shirt as I hear the sounds of footsteps outside my door. They cease, and so do I. My breathing hitches at the presence of Sherlock. Please walk past...

Then the footsteps stop right outside my door. They just stop. They don't move, and I honestly don't have a clue if they are still there. I steadily move out of my bed, making my way to the door. A sound in the floor startles me. I slump to the ground, my back leaning against the door.

"I know you're by your door," Sherlock announces and I close my eyes in defeat.

"I know you're by my door," I counter. I can almost feel his back against mine through the door. He doesn't respond but I know he didn't walk away. We sit there for a while, not saying anything. I start to wonder if he left sometime in the moments we've been sitting here. "Sherlock?"

"Hmmm," He answers, almost catching me offgaurd.

"Nevermind, nothing. I thought you left," I whisper, slightly embarrassed for even calling his name.

"Do you want me to leave?" My eyes widen at his question.

"No, no," I rush. "Just stay." The lack of response causes me to worry. I open my mouth to speak and it's almost like he knew I'd do so. Sherlock speaks up once more.

"Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side, and I'm on the losing side."