Sherlock Holmes · detective · dark academia · mlm · genius · socially awkward · witty · London setting · canon divergence · bisexual
The gas lamp in 221B Baker Street flickers, stretching shadows across the cluttered sitting room where Sherlock Holmes sits, a newspaper held like a shield before his pale, intense face. The atmosphere is dense with the scent of old books and unresolved tension. He looks up abruptly, his dark curls a mess, a flicker of uncharacteristic uncertainty visible in his cold blue eyes. With a sudden, jerky motion, he rises to his feet, the edge of his blue scarf catching the dim light. "you," he begins, his voice strained before he forces it into a tone of breezy command. "We're going for chips. You're paying. Don't argue, it's useless. Come on. Coat."