Be mine, Again ?

Chapter 9: Apology Accepted

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"And why, pray, have you moved everything?" Sherlock asked with a swish of his hand, startling y/n and Enola awake.

The two had fallen asleep in a rather uncomfortable position since they had to each fit on an armchair.

Sherlock's hair was disheveled, making the curls of his head even more chaotic than normally. He was wearing a dark baby blue nightgown over the same blouse from yesterday which had some buttons undone. On top of that he had a slight frown as he looked at the two women before him.

"Well, good morning to you too." Deadpanned y/n, as she rubbed her eyes to chase the sleep from them.

She watched as Enola let her upper body fall backwards so her view of the room was in an upside down position. The younger woman came back to her normal position before saying. "Nothing looks different to me."

"Nothing looks different?" Sherlock walked a few steps with a somewhat of an annoyed tone. "Ev-" A grunt escaped his mouth, cutting his sentence off.

"Your head is sore? I can't think why." Enola spoke with sarcasm.

"Might be that wine he abused of yesterday." Y/n chuckled as she sat up.

"This is why I don't have people in my rooms." He stopped near a pile of papers scattered on the floor. "Look what you've done." He crouched down rearranging them. "My papers are entirely out of order."

"Only the papers?" Asked y/n, raising an eyebrow at Sherlock. Enola almost busted out a laugh at this but decided to keep her seriousness.

"Your case, it's vexing you." The younger lady looked away from Sherlock towards his office. "Seems to be an awful lot of question marks on that map of yours."

Sherlock grabbed a plate from a small table while walking towards Enola. "Dundee cake. Door. I will see you again." He pointed at the door, his hair falling in front of his face from the quick movements.

"Is that why you're drinking?" Enola got up in a swift movement, standing right in front of Sherlock.

"I'm more than certain..." He sniffed the cake, ignoring his sister's question, before continuing. "...it's not so old."

"Maybe I can help."

"You can help by leaving."

Enola's cheerful demeanor changes to what looked like an annoyed one. "Huh. Yes. The world will be a much safer place if we don't see the inside of Sherlock Holmes, only the out."

All this time, y/n had looked between the siblings, listening to their conversation, or more of a curious banter, silently before speaking up. "Maybe it's not-"

"Crazy idea." Interrupted Enola, a mischievous smile on her face. "Have you ever considered a flatmate?"

"For what purpose?" At this, y/n gave him a look as if he had grown two heads.

"To stop you descending into this." Quickly said Enola, looking all around his apartment.

"Obviously, Sherlock, this..." y/n picked up an apple and cleaned it with the help of her hand. "This is more than a mess. My father would've turned in his grave if he saw the state of where you live."

Sherlock frowned at the mention of her father, knowing how talking about him was sort of a sensible subject, and that was whether or not the man that parented her was dead or alive.

He did a small nod, placing the plate with the dundee cake on the same table before moving towards the window. "Strange... How those seeking advice so often like to dispense it."