[COMPLETE] ??? ???? ?? ??? ??????「Sherlock」

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THE ROSETTE'S FINGERS PRANCED ACROSS THE SURFACE of her auntie's little spinet piano, a chilly breeze wafting in from the open window, letting in the sounds of the city and the smell of later autumn. It was later in the evening, the sound of distant sirens drawing her attention as they approached down the street. The dark, foreboding sound of Saint-Saens' Danse Macabre filling the tiny flat. The piece was jaunty and yet deeply spiritual with its changes in mood and pace, growing more and more hectic as she played on, her hands moving at a fierce pace to keep up with the pages of music in front of her. Julia's tempo slowed as she neared the middle of the song, her head swaying from side to side and her verdigris eyes swelling with pride. She had worked for so long on this piece of music and was so close to perfecting it. If it weren't for how stiff and uncomfortable her wrists would become while she played, she could have perhaps finished by now.

Her phone suddenly went off, her hands quickly dancing up the piano as she brought the song to a standstill. Julia turned her head and glanced over her shoulder, her front still sore from the brutal assault of hot coffee. Sighing heavily, she rose to her feet, her nylon-covered feet sliding slightly as she crossed over to the carpet. Leaning down, the young woman retrieved the Samsung upon the coffee table and turned the screen on. The blue light illuminated her face in the dreary little apartment. She had one missed call from an unknown number and two messages. Opening up her messages, she viewed one of them.

On our way. How is she doing? - S.H

Julia had not opened her phone in what had felt like forever. It had been charging for the last few days and the only time she had ever made calls was using the landline at her aunt's home. Frowning, she recalled that day when Sherlock had belittled her and scolded her, all because she had given in to her own panic in the moment. Perhaps it had been because he was just as nervous for her aunt Martha's health as she had been? Perhaps it had angered him that she had been the one to handle the situation? Her eyes fell upon the two initials he would leave at the end of each message. It had been the same way he had signed those letters that she had loved so dearly. Now Julia, you cannot have those damn letters filling your head again! The young woman scoffed inwardly. He was merely humoring you.

She scrolled down and read the next one, tapping on the unknown number once more. It was more recent, this one.

Since when did Mrs. Hudson get a piano? - S.H

Could he hear her through the walls? She did not doubt it for a second. However, Julia was happy— proud even, that Mr. Sherlock Holmes had taken notice. Tapping the reply option, she slid the screen in two and began to type out her reply on the keyboard, chewing at her bottom lip. Finally, she hit send.

She's had it for three years now.
How could you not notice?

Shutting the keyboard back up inside of the device, Julia was just returning to the piano, when suddenly her phone chirruped once more. It just about startled the girl as she sat back down upon the quaint little bench beneath her, her shell-pink skirt flying up in a plume.