[ ill ] / aj
a meme i canāt find for: @theasteriae ft. @shrrlock / @consultingsister verse: main status: always accepting
The chill shivered down her spine, cold despite the duvet pulled up to her shoulders. She always get cold, but thisā¦ it was like it was hard to shake. In the half light, she felt like she knew every piece of the pebble dash ceiling by now. His room, his sheets, him. His breath was steady and soft, sinking back to its normal rate now the afterglow was fading. Alex liked to think he chased her, that Sherlock was the one running around on her heels. But not for the first time she had been waiting for him to come home, trapped in a spiral to which he seemed to be the only release. Lonely didnāt cover the crushing weight of isolation.
ā If I dieā¦ promise me. Promise me you wonāt forget me.ā
It was pathetic. She sounded like a child, desperate and naive. What difference would remembering make? But it plagued her mind, more often than she dared to examine. It was there, every intrusive thought telling her that if the worst was to happen then no one would care. She would fade out of existence, if anyone even noticed.
Almost immediately, Sherlock moved onto his side to face her. His hand reached out to cup her cheek as she mirrored him, shuffling closer across the mattress so that she could feel his breath on her skin. So that she could find some warmth with him.
ā I see the universe in you Alex, if you were to die, all the stars would go out for me. Do you understand? All that dark but all those lights too. And I would go on living with nothing. No morning, no night, just the vast emptiness. Your death would be a terrible moment. A catastrophe not yet imagined. If you can hear and take in one thing I have said to you, let it be this. My universe would be empty; that's not something I wouldn't notice."
It was too much. He was too much. Everything about him read of genuine kindness, deep felt emotion that cut to her core. She pulled him closer at the waist, anything to close the gap between them but her grip felt so frail. His voice floated, so far away.
The squeeze of her hand had her living her lashes, shivering again. She opened her eyes, squinting at the cold florescent light above where she crouched. Her body ached, stiff and weak. And yet she had motivation to do little more than wheeze. AJ swam into view, trying his best to wipe some of the sweat from her brow with the dirty blanket. It wasnāt much. He pulled the blanket up beneath her chin, sitting by her side to watch the door in the way she didnāt have the strength to do.
ā I could never.ā His voice distant to, but closer than London. A million miles, between cobbled streets and the cold damp stone walls that seemed to be all she could see. Maybe it was the slip back into her slumber, drifting off to a place shrouded in memories as her body felt consumed by fire.
