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

❧

DOZENS OF VOICES FILLED JULIA'S FROSTED-PINK EARS. She bundled into her scarf, still able to taste the beer she had drank, as well as smell the aroma of fried food in her hair. Snow fell in fat fluffy flakes, catching in Elliot's strawberry-blonde hair. A bus whizzed by as the two meandered through the streets, avoiding the attention from those with cameras or questions. Julia hardly had the strength to have stayed in the pub that Greg had dragged them all to for New Years Eve celebrations. Thankful for her boyfriend's keen sense of awareness, the two had slipped away through the back door while staff weren't looking and made their escape.

Now the couple headed in the direction of the nearest park. The gentleman's hand in her own felt warm and comforting, the two chatting about their time as they approached Regent Park, leaning into one another for heat. Julia, for the life of her, could not forget the evening that had been Christmas eve. Sherlock's mouth had burned its imprint into her skin, and now the memory of being cornered by such a man as he was stuck on repeat in between her ears. John's baffled expression was unshakeable just the same. Each time Elliot would kiss her or lace their hands together, Julia would remember and fight the urge to retract herself. There was that constant looming weight of 'what-if' now. If the scientist took it badly? He would surely stop contacting her and their relationship would end in ruin. Julia was unsure if that had been Sherlock's original intention from the beginning, seeing as he was prone to fits of jealousy. On the other hand, if Elliot understood that it had been -for the most part- one-sided, perhaps their relationship could withstand it.

Then there was the whole matter of how she felt about what had happened only six days ago. As much as she wanted to deny it, she had felt that pull again toward Sherlock, especially after having seen him so exuberant and rosy-faced and perfect. Okay, perhaps she had always felt a natural pull toward the detective. He was so unpredictable, so clever, so bright and so violently beautiful. Elliot was the calm in the stormy waters that Sherlock created; he was the only bit of median she had gotten since she had began to tag along during cases, a commonplace where there were no bodies or chases, or abductions or bruises or torn muscles. There was no gore, no crime and no punishment. Just simple moments, like laughing over a cuppa and biscuits, or running to get groceries for John and Sherlock-

IT ALWAYS LEAD BACK TO HIM.

Always, and it bewildered her. He had been completely correct in establishing that he had brought her back to life. Sherlock had taken her fruitlessly grey world and flipped it upside down in an explosion of vibrant colours. Now everything was the scarlet of claret, of deep navy cotton and scratchy grey wool, in addition to the pale arch of cupid's bow lips and eyes that could swallow one whole if they were wide enough.

"Not too talkative tonight, are we?" Elliot suddenly asked, giving her hand a squeeze and drawing her from her thoughts. Her head tilted on its axis and she found herself tracing the outline of the scientist's face, dapples of faint grey lamp light splotching his already slightly freckled face. It was dazzling, to say the least, his hazel eyes and strawberry-sallow hair. "I can understand though. Perhaps next time we should spend the night in."