“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”
I took a stab at one of the prompts and I’m not gonna lie, this is absolute rubbish. But I’m always looking for constructive criticism!
Joan was slicing cucumbers for Clyde in the kitchen when she heard the thump of her companion’s footsteps at the doorway. She knew it was Sherlock. She had studied the rhythm of his gait. But his pace was a little off. She sensed something was wrong, but he was quiet. So no one was in danger, or he would have alerted her already. She kept slicing the cucumbers and waited for him to speak up. After all, he always had something to say. She decided to break the silence. “Yes, Sherlo–”
“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” His voice echoed throughout the kitchen, cutting her off. He stood and bounced on his toes, the way he does when he awaits for a response or reaction. His hands clenched and unclenched as Joan froze and turned around slowly to face him. Did she hear him right? Was this some sort of joke? Was this a test? And by the way she was responding, was she failing? She cleared her throat and made a step in his direction. “Would it be so irrational for me to ask if you might put down the knife, Watson?” He was nervous. She calmly put her knife down on the kitchen table and continued towards Sherlock.
“Sherlock,” she started, feeling the nervousness almost radiating from him. This was new. This was different. She didn’t know how to react. She didn’t know what to say. So she told him that. “I don’t know what to say,” she said with a tiny chuckle. Their bodies stood inches away from each other. She smiled up at him and placed her hands on her hips, putting her weight on one side. “On second thought, I do. Why are you terrified?” She asked him.
“Watson,” he started then corrected himself. “Joan, what we have is higher than extraordinary. It is valued as priceless to me. I know first hand, unfortunately, how easily it is to damage something as wonderful as our partnership. And I’d hate to damage it with the selfish expression of my feelings towards yourself.” He made sure to suppress his want to caress her face, still uncertain as to how she would react. Her face was smooth like a weathered stone and yet, her smile radiated like the sun. The same smile she was giving him in that moment. “But I realized that, in the wise words of a William Faulkner, ‘You cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore.’ That is the end goal, Watson. A new horizon, if you’ll have me.”
Joan was taken aback. He had used her first name, which was a rarity. She knew he was serious. And for him to profess his feelings like this to her, was definitely something he wasn’t used to doing. She was proud of him. She was also a little excited, too. She had developed a tiny bit of feelings for Sherlock, but unsure of how he would react, she kept them to herself. However, since he initiated, she was compelled to ask. “Sherlock, are you trying to make a move on me?” She asked cheekily. This was out of character for the both of them, she thought. But she decided to have some fun with it. She lightly touched his fingers and he reacted in wrapping his hand around her delicate one. He pulled her in a step closer. His face softened and he smiled, just a little.
“Watson, you should know that the phrase “making a move” is extremely juvenile and uncalled for, as we are both adults here. What I am attempting to do, however, is ask you out on a formal date.” He was confident. He had studied her body language, in fact, had her hand in his. He was, as people liked to put it, “in the clear.”