I'm All Yours

Waking up beside Sherlock seemed even more glorious today. When I first opened my eyes, I was a bit embarrassed to see him, but the smile on his face washed those feelings away immediately.

"Good morning, darling."

I smile back, "Good morning, my love."

His smile grows, and he leans over to kiss my forehead. "I'll leave you to get ready."

I hadn't realized that he was already fully dressed and ready for the day. It amazes me how he's able to wake up so early.

My feet hit the floor, and I cringe as the cool air bites at my bare skin. I quickly grab an outfit and head over to the bathroom to take a bath. My eyes catch sight of my reflection, and my mouth falls open in shock at the amount of small bruises all over neck and chest.

Memories of last night come flooding back into my mind, and I sink down into the tub. I shake my head, trying to think of literally anything else. The door opens, and Sherlock walks in with a towel. I cover my body in surprise, to which he simply sighs.

"It's a bit late for that, love."

My face burns, more than it ever has before. Sherlock kneels down next to the tub, "I'll wash your hair for you."

I nod and lean back to wet my hair. When my hair is wet, I turn my back to him and allow him to run the shampoo through my hair. My eyes close as he massages my scalp. I never expected to let a man wash my hair for me, and I certainly didn't expect it to be so romantic.

When he's done, I dip my head back and rinse the shampoo out. After I sit up, I notice that he's staring at the floor.

"Is something wrong?" I ask.

He shakes his head, looking up to meet my worried gaze. "Quite the opposite, actually."

He dips his hands in the water to rinse the shampoo off his hands, "I'll be downstairs."

He leaves, and I finish bathing quickly, making sure to dry my hair as best as I can. When I put my clothes on, I realize that some of the hickeys are still visible. So, I head downstairs to scold my dear boyfriend.

"Sherlock Holmes, was it really necessary to maul me like an animal?"

He looks up at me, "You seemed to enjoy it last night."

He didn't say it in a cocky way, but in a matter of fact, way. Like he always does. I blush and walk over to him. He takes my hand, and we head outside to wait for the carriage.

"Good morning!" the driver says.

Sherlock greets him back and helps me into the carriage. He holds my hand, "I haven't been to the market since I came here to get Enola."

"How long ago was that?" I ask.

"Almost three years ago."

Enola's told me before about how awkward that day was. I imagine it must've been just as awkward for Sherlock. Maybe even more.

"At the time, I was annoyed to have to deal with her. But, we've grown rather close over the years. I just wish Mycroft wasn't so hard on her."

I nod, "Mycroft seems to be finally loosening up."

"I've heard he's gotten himself a woman now. Maybe she has something to do with it," he says thoughtfully.

What kind of a woman would date Mycroft? Sure, he could be attractive if he shaved and stopped speaking. But his entire personality is just horrid.

The carriage comes to a stop, and Sherlock exits. He holds his hand out for me, which I accept.

The market is even bigger than the one back home. Sherlock tightens his grip on my hand and begins to lead me over to the booths. A few women eye me as we walk by, but I'm used to it by now. Their glares and harsh whispers only make me prouder as I cling onto Sherlock tighter.

He lets go of my hand and wraps his arm around my waist. His hand rests on my hip, and I blush. Sherlock kisses the top of my head and whispers into my ear, "No need to get territorial, love. I'm all yours."

That familiar fluttering in my stomach returns. I used to hate it, but I've grown to love it now. Even if it does make me lightheaded and slightly delusional.

"What would you like for dinner tonight?"

I shrug my shoulders, "You know I don't care, as long as we have some fresh veggies."

He grabs a basket, and we make our way around the market. Sherlock buys food from the various booths, but I'm not entirely sure what it is that he's going to cook. I've never been much of a chef, so I can't tell by the mix of food in the basket.

Sherlock walks away to get something else while I look at a booth full of books.

"You two look good together," the owner of the booth says.

I smile at her, "Thank you."

Another older woman walks over. "But where is your ring?"

"Oh, we're not married," I say quickly.

They share a look with each other, and the owner of the booth waves her hand dismissively. "That man is a fool for not marrying a beautiful woman like yourself."

"She is beautiful, isn't she?" Sherlock says.

I turn around to see him standing behind me with a smile. He walks over and picks a book up, "She's also talented. She actually wrote this book."

I examine the book in his hand and realize it's my newest poetry book. It's only been out for about a week now, but it has done surprisingly well. Much better than the first one did.

"You're (Y/n) (L/n)?" the booth owner asks.

I nod my head, smiling shyly. The two women look at each other in excitement, and the booth owner hands me a book. "This is my personal copy. Could you sign it for me?"

I agree and sign the book for her. When I'm done, she gives me a warm smile. "You and your words have the power to help change the world for us women."

"And I plan to do so," I say honestly.

She looks at Sherlock, "She's a kind woman. You better not let her get away."

"I won't," he replies.

~~°°••°°~~

Sherlock and I ate lunch at the market and came back to the house. It's still relatively early, and Sherlock was taking a nap, so I decided to sneak into his old bedroom.

I sit on the small bed and look around the room. There are words scribbled on one of the walls, but the words are too faded to read. The book shelf ahead of me is full of books, to the point where some of the shelves are slightly warped from the weight of them

It's not much different than what his room looks like now. Actually, I'd say his childhood room isn't as messy as his current room.

"I knew you'd be in here."

I jump at the voice, "Goodness, Sherlock. You almost gave me a heart attack."

He sits on the bed next to me and looks around the room. "You're the only other person to come in here besides my family."

"I'm honored," I reply.

He stands up, "Join me for a cup of tea."

We walk downstairs and into the dining room table where two cups of hot tea are sitting. We sit next to each other, and I notice that he's fiddling with his pocket watch again.

"What could possibly be so interesting about that watch?" I ask.

He shoves it back in his pocket, "Nothing."

He seems nervous, but I don't question it. Sherlock's always been secretive, and I'm sure I'll find out what it is eventually.

"Do you regret last night?"

I choke on my tea, coughing painfully as I try to catch my breath. He rubs my back softly, and once I'm finally able to breathe, I answer, "Not at all."

Now, I'm nervous as I begin to question his feelings. "Do you regret it?"

He kisses me, the taste of tea still on his lips. When he pulls away, he smiles, "Not at all."

I pick my tea up but quickly set it down, "As delicious as this tea is, I think I should take a break from it for a moment."

"It would probably be for the best," he says, smiling.

I rest my head on the table and gaze out the window in front of me. The wind is blowing, causing the floral tree outside to lose some of its flowers. Watching the purple petals float through the air calms me.

"Would you like to go outside?"

I nod eagerly, and we walk outside. I collapse under the flowering tree, staring up at the falling petals. Sherlock sits next to me but instead decides to lay down, with his head resting in my lap. My fingers comb through his hair as I continue staring up at the tree.

"You look so beautiful right now, like you've been blessed by Aphrodite herself."

I turn my head away to hide my blush, "I don't know how to respond to that."

He sits up and turns my face back towards him. "Then just kiss me."

My lips meet his in a soft and quick kiss. He rests his forehead against mine, our lips still grazing each other.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," I say quietly.

He sighs, "I do too, but let's pretend we can, just for the night."

~~°°••°°~~

After an amazing dinner Sherlock and I decided to go outside to stargaze. I'm surprised to find out that Sherlock enjoys watching the stars as much as I do.

"You see that star? That's Sirius, the brightest star in the sky," I say, pointing above us.

"Sirius, that means 'glowing' in Greek," Sherlock says.

We both lay on the ground, staring up at the night sky above. I roll over on my side to face him, "Is there anything you don't know?"

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he says, rolling over to face me.

I reach out and rest my hand on his face, "It's me who doesn't deserve you."

He rests his hand on top of mine, and I smile softly. It's the small things like this that truly make me feel happy.

Sherlock stands up and holds his hand out, "Let's get inside before the bugs eat us alive."

He pulls me to my feet and we head inside, making sure to lock the door behind us. I keep his hand in mine as I lead him upstairs. We get to the guest room and I fall onto the bed with a sigh. He lets out a small laugh and sits in the chair, spinning around to face the papers in the desk.

Sherlock kept his promise and only brought paperwork for one case to work on. Surprisingly, he hasn't even touched it until now. But I notice that he seems hesitant to go through the papers.

"Everything okay?" I ask, walking over to stand behind him.

He spins his chair around to face me, "Yes, I'm just thinking about how I'd rather be with you than working on these papers.

I smirk and sit in his lap. "I don't blame you, I am far more interesting than paperwork."

I kiss his jaw, and slowly make my way down his neck. When I reach his collarbone I pull away to look at him. "Are you sure you don't want to work on your paperwork?"

He shakes his head, "I'm all yours."