Log in

No account? Create an account
06 January 2014 @ 04:29 pm
[oneshot] Give Me Love  

Give Me Love

Author: Mizuno-Hikaru

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x John Watson

Warning: unbetaed. Pardon my horrible grammar mistakes.

A/N: Title and insert song taken from Ed Sheeran’s “Gimme Love” Try to listen to the live room version here

Told you I'd let them go.
And that I'll find my corner ♪

Sherlock Holmes is a rational man. Of course, being emotional and sentimental won’t help him during the investigation, after all. He is the type of person who keep calculating all of the possibilities then act accordingly, to avoid unnecessary mess.

The sound of footsteps and people laugh’s from the front street filled the room. He left his window opened wide, that’s why—carried all of the festive sounds into his flat. The night’s wind was breezy and cold, but apparently helped him to stay sober, so he let his breath turned into a white thin mist in the air and threw himself onto the couch.

His violin was there on the case, next to the fireplace, but he lost all of his interest to play. The chaos inside him was indescribable with any, any melody he will play with the strings instrument anyway, so why bother…?

The fireplace was unlit and so did the room heater. Damn cold. Near midnight. Sherlock Holmes realized that he was acting like a damn fool he never did before, and then he laughed.

An odd, unhappy laugh.

Maybe tonight I'll call you,
After my blood turns into alcohol,
No I just wanna hold you ♪

The blonde, short haired girl was standing beside him as John was a few yards hailing a cabbie. Even after two years, John and cab-calling were never lined into a smooth sentence together, Sherlock amused. It always him who called the cab—the one who stopped the carriage before both of them rushed inside and sighed from London’s usual cold and damp weather.

“I don’t understand.” Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and holds a paper napkin underneath—blood was still running from his nose. Damn John and his punches, his hedgehog apparently didn’t hesitate during the rage blow. ”I said I’m sorry. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“Gosh. You don’t know anything about human nature, do you?” The girl chuckled; and Sherlock sighed. “Mmm, nature? No. Human? ... No.” Who is this girl, anyway?

“I’ll talk him round.”

“You will?” Her tone of speaking was way too confident. Finally, finally, Sherlock looked straight at her. A soft, nice looking face with sparkling eyes and sweet smile—her short hair was styled nicely and compliment her chic dress.

only child, linguist, clever, part time nurse, shortsighted, guardian, bakes own bread, disillusioned, cat lover, romantic, appendix scar, Liberal Democrat, secret tattoo, size 12, liar

Sherlock paused. John got several girlfriends before, and it was a breeze to get rid of them. But apparently two years passed and he was way too late. John was serious about this one. His hedgehog was trying to propose to this Mary before on the restaurant.

He was expecting John to recognized him immediately, rushed into his embrace, exchanged a few words and sobs…but no. His Watson was way too preoccupied with the small velvet box with that damn diamond ring inside. Two, three months worth of paycheck, apparently.

The small voice inside his heart whispered, she’s a tough rival.

Give a little time to me, we'll burn this out,
We'll play hide and seek, to turn this around,
And all I want is the taste that your lips allow ♪

The tuxedo felt wrong. He stared at the venue, all decorated with fresh flowers and ribbons. It was perfectly beautiful day with a sunny and warm weather, but he felt so listless. White shirt, black tuxedo, a silk tie and white roses as his boutonniere—they felt incredibly wrong, out of place.

Mrs. Hudson told him that he looked nice in his outfit—You looked great, Sherlock. My, my. Isn’t it a lovely day? It was a lovely day, yes, but he felt like he was being punched in the gut. With a wicked pain that wouldn’t go away.

Then he heard John’s laughs. Hair combed nicely, parted to side, freshly shaved this morning—the aftershave’s cologne scent was way too obvious. His hedgehog was nervous, but truly happy—excited. His pupils were dilated, framed with those laughing lines and Sherlock plastered a smile on his own face.

You’re happy, right John?

My my, my my-y oh give me love,
My my, my my-y oh give me love ♪

I don’t have friends. I’ve just got one.

Maybe, maybe, that’s why Sherlock Holmes stood by the bride and groom—gave his speech like a best friend should do. Mary was there, sitting beside his John, wearing a broken white wedding dress with a veil tucked under her flower crown. She was smiling, wide and happy with such glee, arms intertwined with John’s.

He got so many moments with his hedgehog, and a small sinister voice deep inside his heart warned him—you’ll learn to live without him now Boy. You’ve lost. He’s not entirely yours now, won’t share that flat with you anymore, and soon those long, hard nights of lonely and empty feelings will haunt you forever. And ever.

“So know this,” Sherlock continued his speech, “Today you sit between the woman you’ve made your wife and the man you’ve saved. In short, the two people who love you most in all this world…”

He felt like he was on that stupid roof again, speaking to his phone; trying to tell John about them, about his feelings, about everything. “It’s a magic trick, a magic trick, John…” was what he said before, but his hedgehog didn’t get what he meant. Now, will John got what he truly meant?

…that I love you and every day in the entire two years, I keep loving you—missing you; longing your warmth under my touch? Or just to see you smile. Or to see you fret. Just doing the usual daily basic, like shopping during those old boring days…because sat side by side to just talk became something fancy recently; frustrating and—

But John gave him an awkward smile, and Sherlock replied that smile. Suddenly everything didn’t matter anymore.

As long as you’re happy John…

Give me love like never before,
'Cause lately I've been craving more.
And it's been a while but i still feel the same,
Maybe I should let you go ♪

And now here he was.

The great Sherlock Holmes, all alone inside his flat. 221B Baker Street, no longer a share flat for two.

Not anymore.

Another laugh.

As long as you’re happy John…




And Sherlock let the window remained open.