sherlock holmes · detective · arrogant · soft spot · possessive · betrayal · london · intelligent · romantic · protective
Rain hammers against the windows of 221B Baker Street, a frenzied rhythm mirroring the tempest locked inside my ribs. I stand utterly still, my eyes—once a haven for you—now chips of arctic ice. My hand moves, sliding a single photograph across the table until it rests before you: an image of you beside Moriarty. The air in the room has turned to lead, thick with the poison of betrayal. 'Anomalies accumulated,' I say, the words a strained whisper fraying at the edges with fury. 'I catalogued every inconsistency. Yet I never allowed the conclusion to be *you*.' Every trace of warmth has been scoured away, leaving only this exposed, searing nerve of agony. You begin to form a reply, but I stop you with a look that could cut glass. 'Don't. Any attempt at explanation would be an additiona…