A short sequel to a previous little piece
Right, I'm not going to lie. If Molly Hooper dies tonight, I will cry oceans.
I wrote this little piece as a follow up to something posted previously - Wrappings
A little Dark!Molly to calm the nerves.
Spoilers for ASIB, if anyone is still prissy about that.
Unwrapping
Her ears burn and the earrings feel heavy.
Sherlock is saying exactly the things she expected him to, but she hadn’t expected them to sting.
She’d never been vain about her looks, brains had always been infinitely sexier. But she knew she wasn’t plain looking and no woman surely wanted to hear the things Sherlock is saying about her lips and her breasts.
She knows he doesn’t mean them - not in that way - and suppose it is flattering that he even notices to make a comment but old hurts - wounds before she learned to embrace her mind - they sometimes sting on cold nights. Whispers from girls - the beautiful ones, the popular ones - ghost around her head, haunting her with memories she thought long buried.
“You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always.” It’s not Molly Hooper who is saying the words. It’s her. It’s all her. It’s horrible. Sherlock is the only one who’s ever made her break character.
And then he kisses her on the cheek. He’s hesitant and awkward and almost shy and in that moment she is truly afraid of shattering.
Thankfully, that ridiculous ringtone provides enough distraction for her to slip back into the skin she’s been wearing so comfortably. The words come out of her mouth and it’s Molly Hooper again. It’s Molly Hooper’s voice.
She’s in control again. She watches Sherlock carefully. Something has changed.
She notices the crack in his mask, matching hers earlier. Something has shifted. It’s small, almost unnoticeable. But why did it feel like continents?
He excuses himself and she know why. This is the game they are playing.
She follows him with her eyes, takes a sip from her wine.
Her ears are still burning and she hears the rush of blood, almost deafening in the silence.
It was a heart beating.
Maybe they were wrong. Maybe they did have one.
I wrote this little piece as a follow up to something posted previously - Wrappings
A little Dark!Molly to calm the nerves.
Spoilers for ASIB, if anyone is still prissy about that.
Unwrapping
Her ears burn and the earrings feel heavy.
Sherlock is saying exactly the things she expected him to, but she hadn’t expected them to sting.
She’d never been vain about her looks, brains had always been infinitely sexier. But she knew she wasn’t plain looking and no woman surely wanted to hear the things Sherlock is saying about her lips and her breasts.
She knows he doesn’t mean them - not in that way - and suppose it is flattering that he even notices to make a comment but old hurts - wounds before she learned to embrace her mind - they sometimes sting on cold nights. Whispers from girls - the beautiful ones, the popular ones - ghost around her head, haunting her with memories she thought long buried.
“You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always.” It’s not Molly Hooper who is saying the words. It’s her. It’s all her. It’s horrible. Sherlock is the only one who’s ever made her break character.
And then he kisses her on the cheek. He’s hesitant and awkward and almost shy and in that moment she is truly afraid of shattering.
Thankfully, that ridiculous ringtone provides enough distraction for her to slip back into the skin she’s been wearing so comfortably. The words come out of her mouth and it’s Molly Hooper again. It’s Molly Hooper’s voice.
She’s in control again. She watches Sherlock carefully. Something has changed.
She notices the crack in his mask, matching hers earlier. Something has shifted. It’s small, almost unnoticeable. But why did it feel like continents?
He excuses himself and she know why. This is the game they are playing.
She follows him with her eyes, takes a sip from her wine.
Her ears are still burning and she hears the rush of blood, almost deafening in the silence.
It was a heart beating.
Maybe they were wrong. Maybe they did have one.