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

026; Vulnerability Of A Genius

Tentative steps carried her to the restroom to clean up for the day, taking a shower and allowing the hot water to warm her frigid joints and chilly toes. Out she stepped, wrapped in her bathrobe, towel wrapped around her auburn hair and sitting high atop her head. Her morning routine was quickly over, not bothering to put on more than a bit of mascara and eyeliner. She dressed herself in a white blouse and a pale purple jumper over top, her jeans and socks following next. It was eleven in the morning: she had slept in longer than expected. Groggy, Julia began to make herself some coffee and munched contently on a buttered scone.

Then she moved to the windows and pulled open the curtains, allowing the watery light of early London morning to drift in. Snow fell fervently outside, inviting her to head outside and toss snowballs around at strangers like a giddy child. Her cheeks grew tight as her rosy lips curled into a flat smile, remembering the battles she would have with her younger sister over who would be the queen of the snow pile, chunks of ice and slush everywhere. She remembered the hot cocoa after, the blankets or warm showers. Sledging was probably her favourite, however. Julia began to wonder if perhaps she should invite the others out, although for some reason she was having a hard time imagining Sherlock Holmes sliding down a hill, laughing as if he would never grow old.

The young woman swept her arms up and giggled at the idea as she adjusted her braid. Julia turned away from the window and sat down upon the piano's bench, beginning to tap out a few notes on the ivories. With a crack of her knuckles and a gentle feather of her fingers across their smooth surface, she quietly pondered on a song. It had been quite a while since she had played anything, to be quite honest. The idea always sucked the life from her. Swallowing gently, she decided to start off how she always did: she shut her eyes and let herself feel the music, and soon enough it turned into one of her favourite songs. The Butterfly Waltz. She remembered that day, settled in that little cafe, peering out the window as the tiny peppering flakes of snow falling from the sky. Elliot had gone to answer a phone call and the strangest man appeared, praising her on her singing voice.

It, of course, had startled her. For one to approach a complete stranger, alone in downtown London of all places, was out of the ordinary... but wasn't that how her story had been told so far? One peculiar event after the other, in a cacophony of colour and sound. Julia smiled as she allowed her lids to peel open, tilting her head softly to the music, humming along with the piece's beautiful chorus. One hand dominated the lower half of the keyboard, the other pacing meekly along the upper quarters. Julia wondered how Jim was doing at times like these, and then remembered that normal people were at work this early. Normal people were out and about, not stuck at home. Her hands slowed and she looked upon the glossy white claviature.

Julia gently cleared her throat and rose from the piano's surface, plodding off to see what she could clean. The supplies were handy, thankfully, settled in the bathroom. With little time to stop and ponder further, the young woman rolled up her sleeves and placed her hands on her hips. Right, she would have this place spotless by time her aunt came home! First she set to cleaning the toilet, scrubbing away at the inside of the porcelain. It did not take her too long, seeing as it had been done not long ago. Next she began to shake powdered bleach throughout the tub and allowed it to sit for a bit before she ran the water for a moment and began to scrub, the chemical's burning aroma harsh in her throat and nose.

Soon she was sweating, moving to the floor once she had rinsed all the excess material away. She swept and she mopped the lino until the entire flat smelled of lemon. Julia then made her bed and tidied up her room, before pulling out the vacuum. It was her aunt's room in particular that she took to, being sure to wipe and desully any surface inside. Her bed was already tidy, a small black photo album drawing her attention from where it laid upon the surface of her pale duvet. Family pictures? She must have been reminiscing this morning. Julia had been caught in the tail end of it before, at times finding her aunt with tears in her beautifully aged eyes, face tight with delight. It was heartbreaking, however, seeing as her aunt rarely got to visit her or Blair when they were younger.