Be mine, Again ?

Chapter 11: Unreachable Goddess

The moment to start the music will be indicated in due time ;)

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"Would you mind if we stopped somewhere before?" Asked Sherlock as he joined y/n's side, out of the apartment.

"Hm? Oh, no, not at all. Where are we going?"

"We're to investigate the crime scene my sister just happened to flee from." He explained, bringing his hand up to stop a carriage so it could transport them to the desired location.

The carriage, which was being pulled by two majestic Cleveland Bays, stopped under the command of a middle aged man. "Where to go?" He asked in a gruff voice which didn't quite match his joyful expression.

Sherlock easily gave the address before opening the carriage's door. "After you." He said, offering his hand to allow y/n to mount into the transport without much difficulty.

A shy 'Thank you' was sent his way as the gesture seemed to show deeper intimacy between the two of them. One That they haven't dared to use since a long and expanded time far from the other.

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Horses hooves and noise outside the small box were filling in the silence between the two adults as they absentmindedly tried to keep their calm and not cause any unnecessary panic to theirselves or the other.

The young pianist looked out of the window as she tried to escape the deep blue gaze of the man seated before her. Object in hand, as she fiddled with it out of pure nervousness, matched her dress perfectly.

The fan looked rather distinguished and delicate as it was of a deep velour black adorned with light beige details. The tissue was far from being firm as it looked as if angels had designed it using their enchanting voice to create such art onto earth.

Blue iris fell on the woman's hand, noticing the nervousness emanating from the unconscious movement. Not knowing what to do, Sherlock looked away contemplating if there were any new paths for his case.

That was until, a few minutes later, his gaze fell back on y/n's features. He observed how her facial expression was filled with calmness and resilience as much as her way of sitting, straight and ladylike, showing how much her parents insisted on her having a good education on how to be a proper lady.

Everything in the young pianist exulted refinement, grace and dignity. Well, everything except her eyes that seemed to be holding a raging storm, reflecting on her conflicted thoughts and anticipations. Upon this observation, Sherlock decided to speak up, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Will there be any important people?"

'Good job, Sherlock. You just reminded her of the thing she needs to worry about the most. As if she wasn't stressed enough.' Thought the detective to himself, anticipating the reaction of his ex-lover.

"Several, actually. Countless from military business along with viscounts and dukes. Renowned musicians and composers... Who happens to be men... Only men..."

"You-"

Then, as if trying to convince herself, she added, cutting off Sherlock. "But everything will be alright, it's just a simple dinner and a gathering. Nothing less, nothing more, right?"

Sherlock hesitated, his eyes meeting the e/c eyes of the woman he used to love. "I suppose."

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Chatter and clinking champagne glasses echoed through the immense ball room along with a most refined tune played by instruments of the most perfect craft making.