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“She truly is an attractive woman.”
“Really?” Sherlock Holmes asked, steadily and somewhat impatiently. “I hadn’t noticed.”
I turned to look back at him, finding him laying in his bed, one hand rubbing circles into his forehead with the tips of his fingers as the other clutched the desk beside him. I sighed and slowly made my way into his room, leaning against the end of the bed.
“You should get some sleep, Holmes,” I said quietly.
“How can I when you’re standing at the foot of my bed?” He snapped, looking at the wall.
“You’re upset.”
He didn’t reply.
“With me?”
That earned me a look; a small frown and a creased brow. “No, Watson,” he finally said, albeit weakly.
I thought back to the last three days, trying to get an understanding as to why Holmes was acting like this. He could simply be tired, but there was a tension to him that I couldn’t quite describe. Now that I looked closer, however, I remembered how tense he was while I was talking to miss Morstan.
Every time she was near me, he either scowled with some unknown emotion or disappeared into another room. A slow feeling of understanding swept through me as Holmes fully turned away from me.
“Did you fall in love?” He asked quietly, in a tone that made my heart hurt.
Holmes was anxious, maybe even afraid. Surely not of the woman herself...but perhaps, of me, of my feelings for her. I could not deny that I felt attracted to her, but to go so far as to fall in love?
“She was attractive, but I did not fall in love, Holmes.”
“Then...you do not wish to...pursue her?” He asked tentatively.
I had been a fool. Of course Holmes would be anxious about me finding another and leaving him.
“Of course not,” I replied. I made my way to the side of the bed and gently guided him to turn back around, pausing for a moment when I noticed a wetness in his normally bright eyes. “Holmes...I’m not going to leave you. Never. Not even for a pretty woman.”
“You can’t promise that,” he lamented. “One look from our miss Morstan and you were ready to move out then and there!”
I shook my head and gently caressed his face. I couldn’t help but smile a little at the comment. My poor Holmes was exhausted, so much so that he could barely keep it together. I sighed and leaned down to kiss his forehead.
“Is that why you couldn’t sleep during this case?” I asked tentatively. His lack of answer told me everything I needed. “I’m sorry, Holmes...”
He mumbled something I didn’t quite catch, his eyes beginning to close, and the rest of his body finally beginning to relax.
“I love you,” I said firmly, “I’m not leaving you for anyone, ever. You have my word.”
His eyes shot open, disbelief and relief simultaneously mixing in them. He shut them once more, and his body finally fell completely limp. “Love you too, Watson,” he mumbled.
I smiled fondly and ran my hand through his hair until he was fully asleep. I stood as quietly as I could, grabbed that horrific blanket he fancied, and gently threw it over him.
Looking down at him one last time, I closed the door to his room, leaving him to a well-deserved rest.