Our love has a way about it.
So, yes, after gazzilion iterations and plenty of rants to ppl’s personal chats, I have been finally able to get my version of post that call fic. Plenty thanks to the ever lovely @love-yellow-door for her beta-ing skills and continuous patience and encouragement.
“Oh Go-”, she’d gasped as soon as she’d entered her flat. Eyes closed she took a moment to catch her breath and waiting for her heartbeat to become normal. She removed her shoes and hung her coat by the door, noticing then the Belstaff already occupying space on the rack.
Sherlock’s silhouette was backlit by the street light as he reached over and switched on the light by his side. It made his face look sharper, his eyes glinting in the dark like an animal’s on a hunt. But it also made his face look gaunt, a fact that didn’t escape her.
Entering the living room she stood facing him, her face devoid of any expression other than mild resignation at the cancellation of whatever plans she was sure she would’ve made.
“Hungry?” she asked.
He gave a sharp nod, not able to hold her gaze. She sighed as she moved to put the kettle on, removing ingredients from the fridge before finally heading to her bedroom. She usually shut the bedroom door whenever he was in the flat, but today she didn’t bother, instead heading right to her wardrobe to grab her change of clothes and then moving out of sight, into her shower.
He had always found things to keep him occupied otherwise but today he couldn’t take his eyes off her open doorway.
It only seemed right; after all there wasn’t much left for her to hide now.