His Great Game (Sherlock x Reader)

Chapter 27: Home is Where the Heart Is

I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the table and resting my chin on my hands. "Well, I believe your exact words were..." I deepened my voice, mimicking him. "You'll only be there temporarily- I don't need the likes of you sticking around for too long." I stuck him with a pointed yet playful look.

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, there was a change of plans." He said innocently.

I pretended to think deeply. "Yes. Yes, there was, wasn't there?" All he did was hum thoughtfully and I shot him a crap-eating grin. "And why was there a change of plans, might I ask?" There was a specific answer I was hoping for, but I didn't let my features reveal it.

".......... So exactly how long are you intending to stay, precisely?" I sighed internally. Leave it to Sher to change the subject.

"Until I have to leave."

"Leave?"

"My last year at Cambridge, remember? I go back at the beginning of October for orientation."

"Oh." He looked down dejected. He paused for a moment and seemed to weigh a few possibilities. "But... if you didn't have to go back to Cambridge, how long would you stay?"

I grinned, knowing full well he didn't want me to go. "Until you'd have me leave."

He scoffed and chortled softly. "Never."

I smiled sincerely, warmth spreading through my chest. "Then, forever it is."

Time seemed to stand still for a moment. I'm not cheesy, I swear- it's just that neither of us could tell how long we sat there. We just stayed there, smiling like idiots at each other from across the table. It could have been hours or seconds before one of us piped up- neither of us will ever know.

Sherlock cleared his throat and pulled out his phone, typing in something as he spoke. "Well, if you're planning to stay for the long term, we'll have to make for more comfortable accommodations."

My eyebrows raised in surprise as I considered all of the possible things he could be thinking of. My favorite guess included me not sleeping on the sofa anymore. "Oh?"

"Yes." He stopped typing and looked up at me very seriously. "The sofa's not exactly suitable for long-term use, and I already know you dislike sleeping there in the first place..." I did a fist pump inside my head. "... And I think you'll find my bed to be far more comfortable." Wait, whaaaat?? I literally froze, slowly comprehending what he had just said. (No, he didn't mean it like that, ya nasty!)

Sherlock didn't pick up on my surprise and kept talking. "It's plenty large enough for two people to sleep separately. Besides, since you use it half the time when I'm on a case and not sleeping, you might as well use it all the time. You could move your bags out of the bathroom and into my wardrobe, too."

I finally answered after a few more seconds of silent gaping. "Uh... okay, yeah. Sure."

He nodded firmly, as if this was all normal to him. And maybe it was. Something like this- sharing a bed- was probably as mundane as the kitchen table to him. It wouldn't elicit an awkward response like it did to me. I shrugged it off, sighing. It'd be weird the first couple nights, I guessed, but I'd get used to it. It was only for a month, after all.

Okay, so that just happened. I took a sip of my tea, which was now cold. I frowned- just how long exactly had we been sitting here?

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor shook me from my thoughts, and I watched as Sherlock stood slowly, and then made his way around the table. I stood as well, not exactly knowing what to expect (as usual).