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She paints her nails... It takes the most part of a day to complete, Irene coming back every few hours after each coat dries to apply another.
Sherlock observes her as she goes about her routine, watching the private movements of her hands when she covers her nails in that deep and alluring red colour.
The first thing he notices is the slight tremor in her left hand. It flairs up when in use, like John's. He frowns and wonders what causes the shaking.
Sherlock’s first thought is that her left hand is secondary to her dominant right, like most other people. Therefore her left hand is less experienced at performing the delicate task of painting her nails. Simple.
But he isn't right... no, not yet; something is off...
Sherlock considers Irene's behaviour next; she uses her left hand primarily.... When she applies makeup, she starts with the left side of her face; when she paints her nails she starts applying to her right hand first.
So, she's left-handed. But that still doesn't explain the tremor...
Sherlock’s immediate assumption is that the shake is caused by a repetitive stress injury; the prolonged and frequent use of her left hand in pressuring activities. It is common in most people, even Sherlock, himself has mild repetitive stress injuries, but Irene’s seems excessive.
He can tell this by the way Irene stretches her left arm and wrist. She curls her wrist inward to stretch the tendons along her outer knuckle and fingers. Then she moves her wrist in a circular motion before this motion continues along her arm like a wave; this stretches the large ligament on the outer side of her forearm. A stretching out of this group of muscles and ligaments suggests a tightness in the area caused by repeated stressing particular with the first two fingers and thumb on her left hand.
Why does she has this, what does she do to get such a repetitive injury? Apart from general use, Sherlock has not seen Irene performing many tasks that could cause this problem.
Sherlock looks closely at the way Irene grips the brush of the nail polish in her left hand; a practiced and sturdy hold, confident and at ease. Her right not so much...
Irene holds this brush like she would a pencil or pen. Obviously, this could be from the many years of using beauty products; Irene applies makeup with a range of utensils akin to stationery; soft, large brushes to apply blush and foundation; small, delicate and tight packed brushes for her eyeshadow; sharp pencils and pens made of oil and pigment or colored ink for her eyeliner; the almost texta shaped lipstick...
Repetitive use like this could cause her injury but... Sherlock still has one more thought on his mind.
He sees how she manipulates the brush; by moving her wrist for the most part and only using her fingers to exaggerate the swift movement of her wrist, or to complete those intricate and small details around her eyes. Sherlock has studied the way many women apply makeup and so far hasn't found any habbits that matches Irene's technique... He gives up on that thought and instead compares her method with other hand dominated activities, of which there are many that do not correlate...
Only one comparative fits; a creative hand.
She is a writer... or a painter, or illustrator; he cant tell yet... He can narrow these down further by looking again at her finger movements; short and sharp, or fluid and quick, or intricate and ever so tender....
These movements are less strict than most creatives’. This makes Sherlock think that she breaks the norm even in this aspect, as she seems to do with a lot of subjects...
Sherlock tosses up between writer and sketcher. Irene now only fits into these two categories. He runs over all the information he has already gathered about her to try to come to a solid conclusion.
But he can't...
All the evidence points to both, so that's what Sherlock settles with; Irene sketches - with pen, he can assume; Irene writes - again with pen, must be her favourite then...
Sherlock smiles as the puzzle piece falls into place... Such a hobby suites Irene well; a creative device used to express. He would have otherwise scoffed at the idea, saying that these activities had no purpose in this world but... now that he sees it in Irene, he can't help but feel warmed by the idea; sherlock now can't picture her without this aspect of her private and personal life.
Irene glances to the side and up at him; she sits beside him on the hotel couch as she paints her nails. Sherlock sees her notice his smile. Her eyes lock with his for a long and comfortable moment, her gaze kind and inviting. He assumes from the length of time they share their sights, that Irene is figuring him out just like he did for her a moment before; he lets her. She grins at him, a toothy and happy smile, before she returns to her task. As Sherlock watches with half-lidded eyes, Irene's hands resume their activity.
Contended, thankful... It's what he feels, a new pair of emotions to him. He is thankful to her for inadvertently showing him a new part of herself, thankful to the polish for being a part of her;
thankful for red painted nails...