SOCIOPATH'S ROMANCE // Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Chapter 1 - Study in Pink

"Hoo-hoo!" Mrs Hudson chirped as she poked her head through the door of 221c. The resident turned round to face her, a welcoming smile on her face. "Someone moved in downstairs, thought you might want to meet them!"

Y/n had e/c eyes who always shone with emotion and curiosity, windows to her whizzing mind.

"I'll be down in a minute!" Y/n exclaimed, spinning round to check her hair before heading down behind the landlady. 221b Baker Street was in its usual unruly state with experiments casually bubbling on the table and papers strewn across whatever available surface. Y/n didn't go down much as she never really had an occasion to discuss with its inhabitants.

 Two men were standing in the flat, talking rapidly. Y/n knocked politely at the door and smiled brightly as they turned to face her. 

One of them, she knew. 

Sherlock Holmes, the consulting detective, with his dark, raven curls and cupid bow lips; but the one next to him was unknown to her. She analysed him briefly, quickly figuring out details of his life before he came to meet with Sherlock. 

"Hi, I'm Y/n Baxter! I live in the flat just upstairs but you already knew that, don't you Sherlock?" she spoke, leaning on the doorframe, arms folded casually over her chest. 

"Mhm, yes. This is John Watson." Sherlock dismissed. 

Y/n stepped forward and shook John's hand firmly. "Pleasure to meet you! You were a soldier weren't you?" Y/n asked casually, looking at the man from head to toe with a kind smile on her lips.

Suddenly, Sherlock's head snapped back to face her and his previous boredness from the interaction was replaced by interest in the young lady. 

"Uhm, yes that's right." John replied, amused but most definitely surprised.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" she continued, studying the faces of the pair. She had to admit they were quite oddly matched but then, perhaps opposites attract. 

"Afghanistan. Uh- Sherlock... did the same thing." 

"Hardly a difficult deduction." Sherlock mumbled, now deducing everything about the woman that stood in front of him.

 H/c hair, nice eyes, sketches, no pets, irregular sleep schedule, British, athletic, gymnast? Thoughts brimmed his mind as he took it all in, slowly forming the picture in his mind.

"Yes, it's his job, believe it or not." Y/n chuckled, earning a whole hearted huff from the detective. 

"What's yours?" John asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes at this mundanity and chatter. He wanted things to move, to be fast, to have some action. None of this useless chatter. Couldn't John observe the same things as him on Y/n? It was relatively easy. Somehow, he saw something in her. Something mirroring his thrill of the chase and of case solving.

"Sergeant." she shrugged. Sherlock's interest increased a little bit more at her words. 

"I thought you were an artist." the detective said, inquisitive.

"Well you thought wrong. Mr Holmes." she jutted her head, about to explain but her phone ringing cut her off. She mouthed "Sorry, work." as she listened to her orders. 

"It was nice meeting you but work's calling! Don't get poor John killed just yet, Sherlock!" Y/n shouted from the hall, her coat now on, flapping behind her as she sprinted down the stairs and left. 

Y/n breezily hailed a cab to head over to the crime scene where she had been summoned.

. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.