Work Text:
His precious self-control comes apart at the seams, just the mere presence of her.
she’ll only say or do something and suddenly, he’s crumbling from the inside.
sherlock doesn’t know what to do about it, the feelings that she inspires are hardly manageable, he can barely breath for the intensity.
He can’t even escape it in his mind palace, which would show him images he hadn’t meant to see: molly,
in her work clothes,
in her regular clothes,
in no clothes at all,
and it’s all he can do to come back to focus, brain scattered, body trembling, utterly undone.
