The Girl Without a Mark

Fuck you, Sherlock, for noticing how your sudden sexiness makes me feel

YEET. Yeet is a fun word and I will never stop saying it. YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET

Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! And as always, don't forget to comment on what you like, if there are any typos and feel free to suggest things for the story. I've got a few ideas but maybe you guys do too. 

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"WILLIAM SHERLOCK SCOTT HOLMES I WILL KICK YOUR BLOODY FUCKING ASS IF YOU REMOVE THAT CLOTH TO LOOK AT THAT CANVAS."

"I just want to see," he glared at me as I stepped out of the bathroom with still-wet hair, ready to throw my comb at him.

"Seeing doesn't involve touching," I snapped, forcibly removing him from my painting area. "Now what the hell do you want?"

"John told me to come down here to fetch you," he replied. "He seems to think you need to 'come up for air and join the rest of us.'" Sherlock rolled his eyes and I shook my head.

"It's not like I'm swimming or drowning myself in alcohol or something," I muttered. "I was just taking a shower."

"That's what I said," he agreed. "Either way, he seems insistent on having you there as soon as possible. I personally don't know what all the excitement is about. Thanksgiving and Christmas are really just an excuse to stuff yourself the way they stuff turkeys and get stuff you really don't need."

"True," I laughed. "But it's also supposed to be a holiday where you and your family and friends can gather around to talk and catch up on their well-being. It's also supposed to be a time where you can express your thankfulness that you even have friends and family."

He regarded me with his ever-color-changing eyes and tilted his head.

"You miss them," was all he said.

I nodded, giving him a somewhat helpless look. "They were my world, mon ami," I said. "They made me feel happy and accepted me for who I am when the majority of people would not." I cleared my throat to ease the rock that seemed to be stuck there and gave him a warm smile. "But I am happy to have found a few others who do the same when I only expected to be shunned after the inevitable question was asked and then answered."

Sherlock seemed surprised (and maybe a little bit pleased) to have me call him my friend, but he quickly resumed his usual expression of annoyed indifference.

"Are you going to be ready soon?" his tone was annoyed but I knew it wasn't directed at me so I shrugged a shoulder at him and walked into the bathroom again.

"Let me wring my hair out and put on a dry shirt," I told him, shutting the bathroom door. "I'll be good to go in five minutes."

"Just hurry up," he grouched in his usual manner.

"Learn to be patient, Sherlock."

He grumbled but I ignored him and proceeded to change out of my wet shirt, drying my hair with the towel. I combed it out, put it into a french braid and dug some eyeliner and mascara out of the small makeup bag on the counter. I quickly lined my eyelids with a burgundy wine eyeliner that made my eyes pop and applied a light layer of mascara. Satisfied, I put on my bra and walked out of the bathroom, ignoring Sherlock as I walked into my room to grab a different shirt. He didn't seem to care about nudity, so I figured he wouldn't care about me being half-naked. I grabbed a dark purple shirt that had billowy 3/4 sleeves, put it on, grabbed my phone and walked out again. I came to stand in front of Sherlock and raised an eyebrow at his blank-faced expression.