Chapter Text
The door to his room squeaked on its hinges and swung open. A slumbering body lay on his bed, wrapped snugly around his bed sheets. He can see the heaving in and out of each breath with the rise and fall of the person's chest.
Sherlock's eyes starts to dart around the room in measured, cool glances. The lamp on his side of the bed is turned on, bathing its surrounding in a dimmed illumination. The shadows on the walls are lengthened with his own being featured in the lankiness of his form. Stretched out like an elastic bans with a complete disregard to its limits.
His blinks once and proceeds to strip his body out of his clothes, socks and shoes. His legs then drags him towards the bed sliding under the heavy cover, which has almost drowned out his sleeping partner, in its many, many layers.
"Sherlock?" a sleep-addled and feminine voice calls to him.
And his left hand lifts itself as if on cue and drapes around her middle, drawing her closer and closer still.
"Did you have a good day?" he asks her quietly, resting his chin on her ebony hair.
"Yes I did. But first I need to tell you something". She sounded a bit more awake.
A slight pause and a deep breath.
"Sherlock. I have to leave for a fortnight to Manchester. There is this really huge event taking place and eminent personalities from around the country will be attending. And as you know I have to as always bear the brunt of it all. Unfair, I know as what with you being away for four days this week. Busy with your case and both switching off our phones among other things. But I promise I will make it up to you after I return. Alright dear?"
Rambled the slightly anxious voice. Touches of sleep lingered.
No answer came. She turned around in his arms; dark eyes went up to search his face. Apprehension in her face clear to see.
"Sherlock?" she stressed his name aloud.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yes" came the answer.
"Are you angry with me right now?"
"No. I am not and I do understand. It is your career after all and it matters to you. Though I am a tad bit sad but as you have already said it can be made up to." Sherlock moved forward and placed a swift kiss on to her nose, eliciting a giggle.
"You are not really angry with me, Sherlock? Promise?"
"Promise".
Her own hands stretched out engulfing Sherlock's torso in a hug.
"Alright. I do really need to sleep right now. My train will be leaving this Saturday so I have go to the office early tomorrow and inform my availability." She tightened her hands around him a bit more and shut her eyes.
"Goodnight".
"Goodnight Sherlock ".
He lay awoke, his eyes going to her deep hued curls and with tendrils escaping no matter how many times they are pushed back.
He gave them another go; tucking the escaped hairs behind her ear.
Puffing out a deep sigh he contemplated the still night and the woman with whom he is sharing his bed.
A whisper slowly creeped across the surface of his mind. A woman whose name is not Molly Hooper.