WRITING PROMPTS 25, Sherlolly. Thank you! :)
25. “When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!”
(Thank you! That was a hard quote to wrap my brain around but then it hit me – teen!lock one-shot.)
That’s My Girl
“What did I say?” Sally asked, her innocent tone spoiled by her smirk.
“You know exactly what you said, Donovan,” Mary said angrily. “Just because the only boy you can catch is that idiot Anderson, that doesn’t give you the right to spew your venom at Molly.” She got up from their cafeteria table and ran after her friend.
Mary found Molly in the closest ladies’ room, in the next-to-last stall. She could hear her sniffling. “Molly?” she asked gently. “Are you okay?”
“She’s such a … a b-i-t-c-h,” Molly said quietly.
“It’s okay, you can say it,” Mary said, smiling a bit. “Your ‘innocent little Molly’ reputation is safe with me.”
Molly laughed weakly. “Bitch. Sally Donovan is a bitch.”
Mary grinned. “There, don’t you feel better?”
“A little…” Molly sighed quietly. “But … maybe there’s something to what she’s saying?”
“What?! Molly Hooper, you come out here right now so I can shake some sense into you.”
There was absolute silence from inside the stall for a full minute then the door opened and Molly stepped out. Her eyes were red and there were tear streaks down her face but Mary knew those were fixable. What concerned her much more was Molly’s defeated attitude.
“Maybe … maybe I should break up with Sherlock,” she said quietly. “He never liked being the center of attention, good or bad, but with me, he’s getting both. There are always so many comments. Bitchy ones from nasty people like Sally, or stunned comments, like how Greg is always saying he has no idea how someone like Sherlock managed to get someone like me.” She blushed. “Then there’s Irene, who said I must be … um … well, you were there, you heard her.”
“Yeah,” Mary said, smirking. “And I gave her a black eye for it. That earned me the happiest detention I’ve ever served.” She turned serious. “Molly, you can’t dump Sherlock over this. When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy … even then. Especially then! I don’t even want to imagine Sherlock with a broken heart, and you leaving him would break it into a million pieces.”
Molly sniffled again. “I just want him to be happy.”
“I am, Molly,” came a very familiar, and very male, voice from the last stall, the one with the hand-written Out-Of-Order sign.
“Sherlock!” both girls squeaked. “You’re not supposed to be in here!” Mary added.
The door opened and Sherlock came out, looking completely unrepentant. “It’s my favorite school bolthole. No one checks for an occupant when there’s an out-of-order sign.” He looked at Molly and his expression softened, like it always did when he looked at her. “I was never really happy before I met you, Molly. Then you came into my life and I feel like nothing could bring me down.” He gently took her hands. “I don’t care what everyone else says – you and I belong together. I never want you to forget that.”
“Oh, Sherlock…” Molly murmured, new tears falling down her face. “I promise I won’t. Everyone else can go … can go hang.”
Sherlock grinned. “That’s my girl.”