[text: john]; No you didn’t. You’ve simply look at the bookshelf. It’s inside one of the books. SH
[text: john]; After you’ve searched for it, don’t forget to return the books in its proper place. SH.
[text: John]; Bookshelf.- SH
[Text; Vixen]; No. You’re not a child. You’re a monster. :P G
[Text; Vixen]; Go ahead. I’m waiting~ G
"I was rather fond of taking photographs of you but only because you were always so willing to open up to me." Azi thought for a moment at Sherlock’s request and finally nodded. "Let me fetch them from my closet," he whispered and disappeared to his small room. He kept them in a box toward the front of the closet so they were easy enough to retrieve. With shaking hands, Azi took a deep breath and returned to the sitting room. Mycroft would have him buried alive if he found out what he was doing.
"Here they are," he told his friend and opened the lid of the box. He took out the first album and handed it to Sherlock. The first picture wanted to make his heart shatter. "Th-This one here was one I took before the dinner that got us separated. You-You had just admitted that you thought you were falling in love with me." As Azi studied the photograph and young Sherlock’s expression, he knew right then that the teenager in that picture had meant every word he had said that night.
A young boy that has the same face and black curly hair that he saw
from the bookshelf greeted him again when Azi opened the box and
handed out the album. He wasn’t looking at the camera but to the
boy next to him — Aziraphale.
His eyes looked shy as the camera caught him sneaking a glance at the
young boy next to him, while Azi looked straight at the person holding the camera and smiled widely.
Turning his head back to Azi who’s sitting next to him, he asked. ” Got us separated? Why? What happened that night?” Though he might have an idea, he wanted to hear what truly happened from the man himself.
Elizabeth was curled up asleep, in a blanket on the sofa. She had her phone in her hand and a small smile on her face. She was clearly happy and at peace as a contrast to earlier that day, breathing softly as she slept.
Sherlock stared at Elizabeth’s sleeping form quietly, admitting to himself that he was somehow glad that his sister stayed for the day. He gently made his way back to the kitchen to prepare a tea for himself while trying not to wake her up.
He was a little taken a back when Sherlock said that he could be counted on. Mol opened then closed his mouth before a rather shy smile graced his face. It was nice to hear and not something he expected to ever leave Sherlock’s mouth again. Best not question it, best just accept it.
"Wait, what? Sherlock don’t just-what, you need to be more specific" because if someone liked him then god knows Mol would jump right onto that. Whoever it was, they were staying pretty quiet about the whole thing. Mol could only guess but he couldn’t think of anyone.
"Oh? Didn’t you know?" Sherlock’s brows furrowed, noticing the sudden want from Molyn. "The scent next to your perfume. A bit expensive, recently released in the market. Bet he saved enough to buy it just so he could get your attention." Sherlock stepped closer, taking in the scent of perfume. near his neck, ignoring the close proximity he was invading.
"Born in Paradise by Escada, I believe. Two years younger than you, most likely. A shy and quiet one just like you. Crease marks on your arm shows that you two are close friends. Someone from a different department, perhaps?"
For now, the demon would allow him to just get it all out. He understood, he knew he was not the easiest to get along with. Especially with how selfish he could be, and how he could turn everything against someone, and how manipulative and how-you get the point.
Ashtoreth simply smiled and snuggled down into the bed, “I just wish to lay here with you, Sherlock. That is all.”
Sherlock kept quiet but he never turned to face Ash. He didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that his anger was fading away. No. He won’t let that happen.
Even if the man’s arms were around his body, holding him comfortably.
“I am mad at you.” He murmured as he closed his eyes.
Her lips hovered over his for a moment, taking his scent in before finally moving away. Her hand rand down his arm before wrapping her fingers around his hand, thumb running around his thumb.
"Even if something happened, I wouldn’t want you to worry in this sort of state." Sky admitted with that smile of hers. A slightly sigh left her. "You should know that answer. Lestrade. He would and was quicker than John would have been."
Her gaze moved from his face and looked down at his bandaged torso. “You’re so human, you know that?” She let out with a light chuckle before lifting her gaze back to him.
"I’m a consulting detective not a psychic, Sky." Sherlock gave a soft smile. Although he could recognize Lestrade’s perfume lingering on Sky’s clothes.
"Oh shut up." He rolled his eyes as he heard her comment, hiding his blush with his words.
"imagine drunk sherlock dancing in a gay bar" well oKAY
"…Who are you? Are you planing to kill me too?"
"Of course not, Mr. Holmes. That would be counterproductive to my boss’s desires."
"You… You know me…"
"What do you want from me?"