#merimish

Hamish let out a heavy sigh and reached across the bed, fingers digging between mattress and box spring for his hidden treasure. He felt the paper box and pulled it out, already tasting the minty smoke in the back of his mouth. Flipping open the top of the box, he was filled with disappointment. Empty. Hadn’t he bought the box only three days ago? That’s a bit much, even for him. 

Because it wasn’t him. A scowl pulled at his face as he dug his phone out of his pocket.

[sms] Really? Had to clean me out? Twice in two weeks, you owe me a new pack. 

Hamish rolled over and groaned into his pillow, resigning himself to a long afternoon alone.

If I Loved You - Delta Rae

Merimish Status: Broken Up

If I loved you life would be easy, there’d be no truth that I’d be scared of.

I could walk through every valley and you’d like me with all of your love.

But I don’t love you not like I want to. I don’t love you and that makes it hard.

And every morning, I see how you watch me and each night I know you feel it and it just breaks your heart.

(musical break)

You’d make good money and come home early. And you’d kiss me, and hold me each night.

We’d have children, and they would be so beautiful. And we’d raise them and all would be right.

But I don’t love you, not like you need it. I don’t love you, as good as you are.

And when I kiss you, I know that you can feel it. And I see it in your eyes, and it just breaks my heart.

I wish to God I could change you, Darling, and make you the one.

Oh, I will always have these regrets, and wonder what else I could have done.

But I will… ‘Cause if I loved you, I could be happy. I would make you the light of my world

I wouldn’t wait, Love, I’d marry you tomorrow. And we’d make love, and I’d be your girl.

But I don’t love you much as I want to. I don’t love you, it would be a lie.

You deserve love you’re better than a good date, and you’ll find it but just not in my eyes.

Meredith Hooper

Meredith is my coffee and tea buddy, and the cuddliest girlfriend on the planet. She’s my little artist, and she looks best when she comes home covered in paint smears, her hair half falling out of her braid. 

it's so cute

why does it give me so many feels?

He was still confused and it showed in his features, in the tears welling up in his eyes that reddened the sclera and reflected the light of the candle. They seemed more Hamish-blue like this.They were the only colour she'd never been able to properly get from mixing paints. Hints of green were mixed in with it causing an effective clarity that a hundred colour studies were dedicated to trying to duplicate it, none with any success.

The boy closed his eyes to prevent the tears from falling. He saw everything now, didn't he? That she was not capable of giving him the one thing he so desperately wanted. Hamish Watson-Holmes, the epitome of the world's good had chosen to fall for the only person who couldn't give him what he deserved. 

Selfish. That's what she was. Meredith's eyes cast to the floor when she finally labeled it. It wasn't a good to take everything and gave absolutely nothing in return. But she liked herself around him. Colours, food, music were better with him, and nearly everything else was. The painter wouldn't, couldn't do anything to give that up, and there was nothing she could have given in return. 

"It's nothing like in the movies," she said, barely audible and fast paced so he might not catch all of it. Her eyes focused on the paint splatters covering her hands as every piece of her mind told her to lie. Lie, act, make him stay. There was a large spot of white on the inside of her index finger that started to bother her and successfully distracted her while she tried telling the truth. "The couples walking down the street, holding hands and saying they love each other. I'll never do that. I'll never be able to honestly say those three words," Meredith stretched the finger out to make small fissures in the paint. "I don't hurt when you hurt, or feel sad when you're sad," she rubbed at it with her thumb to make the edges curl, "there's nothing in me that wants to comfort you when tears fall. I have no clue what to do if I were to try. The same when you're happy. When anyone is happy. Whatever happens in your head doesn't.... doesn't happen in mine."

Hamish's eyes opened and he leaned against the bed frame, taking everything in. He did love her, always had, even when they were little children. The feelings ebbed and flowed over the years, but when he saw her again in the coffee shop, and the eight months of challenging each other both mentally and physically that proceeded. Meredith was like magic, a breath of fresh air, and how she looked now, with her hair falling out of a braid that barely covered the scars on the back of her neck, and the blanket clinging to her small frame as she persisted with the scratching. His chest twisted up and his skin prickled. It hurt to see her like this and he wanted to make her better. 

"I'm a leech," Meredith warned him in a whisper. She had scratched off a large spot of the paint already, but kept at that single spot, scratching away layers of skin until it was flaming red. "I don't know why you stayed for so long. I don't understand it, but I won't do a thing to change it, Hamish. A good person would do that, and no matter how much I act like one, try to be one, I'm not... I need reminders..."  

"Stop that," he commanded, cutting her off and taking her hands, no longer shocked by the initial coolness. His dad's medical teaching came into play and he sat next to her on the sheets, ghosting over the bright red skin with calloused fingertips. Mere stared at them. The long, violinist's fingers were fascinating and warm. They were always warm, and her own were cold like metal. 

Meredith slipped a hand out and attempted to push him away. Her own fingertips reached the fabric of his shirt before he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close. She tensed up, the embrace was unexpected and didn't last for long, but it stopped the shivering she had not noticed before. "Please stay," she begged feebly, grabbing onto his arm when he pulled away. Surprised, Hamish gave her a questioning look. Meredith let her eyes grow wide and mouth go soft, a slight tremor added to the bottom lip for effect. "You're...warm." 

He conceded after a short pause. "Lay down and move over," he told her, pulling the blanket up. It was kept her safe in a small way, protecting Meredith from the one person who could really hurt her. She grinned and did so, curling up slightly as she moved into the bed. Hamish's arm curled around her center and he nuzzled her neck. With his other hand he started playing with her hair and, try as she might, Meredith found it difficult to stay awake.

Name: Elizabeth Holmes 

Gender: Female

General Appearance: She takes after Meredith in looks with the dark eyes and facial features, but she has Hamish's hair colour and curliness. She'd be of average height and slender. 

Personality: Blisteringly intelligent, but kind with it in the same way Hamish is. Socially adept and manipulative of situations and people around her, Elizabeth is quite the power-house. 

Special Talents: She is left brain dominant and learns languages quickly. Music is her forte and by the time she's thirteen she'll be capable of play 5 instruments including the violin, cello and French horn.

Who they like better: Elizabeth would be a complete daddy's girl

Who they take after more: Hamish 

Walls by Stars

This was based on one of the 'Imagine Your OTP' posts. It's set right after 'Don't Let it Be Good-bye' and before the new, as yet untitled, Merimish thread. 

"It's raining," he tells her quietly, looking away from the window and down at her. Meredith was half on top of him, chin resting on his chest while she doodled on his skin in blue pen, or maybe it was black. The little early morning light made it difficult to tell. She met his eyes and raised an eyebrow at him. Both of them were still tired. When they finally tried sleeping he was restless, every little sound made him jump and her nightmares raged on as they had since she'd left him. Sometime around three or four in the morning both gave up on sleep.

"You want to go out in it, don't you?" She asked, holding back a smile. At least this was the same. Hamish nodded, untangling himself from the sheets and from her. Meredith stretched out on the bed in his absence and claimed a few pillows. She watched while he put on a pair of jeans and a dark blue shirt. 

Hamish was her's. She had captivated him so fully that she'd stolen his heart. It wasn't even much of a challenge. To her he was a multi-use drug. By the time she recognized this she had already become addicted. 

It was only a few months that he had been with her father. He must have been so valuable to him. Their relationship paired with him being Sherlock and John's son. That last part would have been enough, but the added bit to torment her. He knew what taking Hamish meant, and he never passed up an opportunity to supply updates, or plan moments that she would see him on the street. With each time he looked more worn out, frightened. She could see the glint in his eye that looked less like Hamish, and more like him.

His posture is more confident than before, shoulders straighter, almost like a soldier's. Before seeing her in just one of his jumpers would be cause for him to grin and do his best to get that off of her, but all he supplied was a sad smile before retreating into the kitchen. Unsure if she liked it or not, and fighting back thoughts about him being tainted, she watched him leave the room. 

She picked a pair of denim shorts and a loose fitting, paint splattered top, put them on, then went out to join him. He still knew her flat like the back of his hand and had a pot of coffee going by the time she walked in.  "That smells good," she comments, walking into the kitchen. "I used the peaberry," he replies, glancing over quickly and away again.  Meredith paused before continuing. That look. Was he hiding something? She shook it off and turns towards the counter so he wouldn't see her trying to figure it out. "Mason gave it to me. He's helping Alicia more at the coffee shop. I like the Sumatran blend more, but peaberry is good." "I've never tried it," he says, then impatiently pours them two cups of coffee from the half pot, and sets it next to her. 

These lies were eating at him. Leaving like this was eating at him. He almost took her up on her offer to run with him, but he wasn't a good person anymore. Wasn't worthy of her. His heart fell as he these ideas ran through his head. He takes a hurried drink and burns his tongue, cursing he sets it down. Meredith smiles, thinking of that first day in the coffee shop. "Coffee's hot, love," she reminds him.

"I know that," he chuckles, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. There was still a day before his plan would pan out. A single day to be with her and he wasn't going to waste it. "I love you," he says quietly into her ear. Her grin falls when she hears that.  "We should go out," she tells him finally, working her way out of his grip and taking his hand. "Before the rain stops."

Hamish smiled sadly again, then followed her out the door and into the rain. He never expected an answer. He'd never gotten one. With everything he'd done he didn't deserve one.

It shows how obsolete gender-roles are.