Sherlock had decided that her favorite place in this strange new environment was the library. It was the only setting of mild solace, a place that was still slightly similiar to the past. Along the shelves were books that had previously existed, The Prince, The Once and Future King, Inferno, Othello. They stood, perched on shelves like old friends waiting to be reunited with her. She took comfort in the silence here, the loud sighs of cars and blaring of the occasional ambulance blaring by long forgotten as she studied once more, getting lost in paper pages as if nothing had changed, learning formulas and foreign languages, soaking in fresh information. She’d hardly noticed the time pass and the sun dip low in the sky. In fact, she’d hardly noticed the person leering over her shoulder had it not been for the scuffle of their movements.
“Hm? Am I in your way or is the library closing for the night?” she asked over her shoulder, blinking up at the person.
Over the years that he’d lived with Sherlock, Watson had been scientifically and socially experimented on far too many times to count. Sherlock was infinitely knowledgeable and observant, and in this day and age, Watson would have thought he - oh, right - she would have suffered from even more of an information overload than usual, and in turn he would have suffered even more experimentation than he had before. But in truth, he missed that part of their relationship much more than he ever thought he would. Artridge was a bit lacking in the crimes and mysteries department so Sherlock was usually out, whether in class or in the library, learning anything and everything she could, and Watson himself was usually at work or doing some sort of physical activity outdoors or in the gym. They were roommates as they had always been, but at times they felt like two strangers who lived together. So, when he was trying to sneak up on her in the library (like she liked to scare him while he was in his study; she was much better at it) he wanted to surprise her, but he’d given himself away somehow because she had turned to look at him. He laughed and sighed before pulling up a chair beside her, draping his arm along the back of hers. “Neither, my dearest Sherlock; I just thought I’d find you here. Let’s get dinner when you’re done, yeah?” he asked, rubbing her shoulder a little bit.
“No I appreciate the effort. Most people that come here just leave the books wherever the hell they want. However, I can tell you that book goes three cases over and one shelf down. ”
John nodded a little and ran his fingers along the spines of the books on the shelves as he repeated to himself, “Three cases over, one shelf down” several times so he wouldn’t forget. “Wait, and where on this shelf should it go?”
“Fair enough, Miss Ellie will do fine.” She replied with a grin. Ellie moved to catch up with him before moving into the building. “Ah but I thought you weren’t getting gifts for us TAs.” She teased with a grin, although she figured that had been the entire reason behind him asking what people liked. “To be honest, so far as I’m concerned, whatever you gift can’t be terrible. After all it’s the fact that you’re giving that’s the real gift… if that makes any sense? Well that and I figured you were pretty astute and couldn’t fail completely.” Ellie paused. “Although it is nice to know that I needn’t feel bad about the gift I got you.”
John laughed a little when her voice took on a teasing tone and sighed happily when he was able to shut the door behind them, enjoying the warmth of the biology building. He listened carefully to what she was saying, still worrying that he would give his TAs something they wouldn’t like. He felt like all the usual gift ideas - money, coffee or chocolate things - were very standard and didn’t have the thought behind it that Ellie was describing. Still, he had an idea in mind of what to get them already and he’d go through with it. He arched an eyebrow at her when she mentioned that she got him something, though. “What? You didn’t have to!”
Rolling his eyes the male had already had quite enough idle chatter for the evening. His mind drifting to the girl in the bridal shoppe once more. Finishing off his glass of Bordeaux Hamlet slipped away quietly. Finding an unoccupied study his fingers drifted over each book before grasping a bottle of unopened whiskey. He was sure in a home like this no one would notice if it had been opened. Thinking he had made a stealth getaway he took recluse on the plush leather couch, plucking a glass from the mahogany end table he poured himself a generous gimlet. As he took a sip he let a slight laugh expel his lips noticing how another had the same idea he possessed. “I see we are two peas in a pod? Hm?” He asked holding up an empty glass. “Have a drink with me and I’ll be your alibi for the evening.”
John was terrible when invited to these large parties. He always wanted to come for the food and drink and of course the chance to dress up a bit, but he could only tolerate so much mindless small talk and being around people for so long. When he finally escaped into a random room, he turned to shut it quietly as possible before resting his head against the door and sighing in relief at the silence that enveloped him. So he was quite startled when someone’s voice suddenly cut through the darkness. Out of habit, he reached for his gun - which he wasn’t carrying tonight, which he didn’t carry ever anymore. Artridge was not nearly as dangerous as his previous residence but old habits die hard, as they say. “A drink, you say? As long as it’s not exceedingly sweet or bubbly,” he said with a breathless laugh, smoothing his hair back a little. “You startled me, sir. Thought I’d get this place all to myself.”
Ophelia’s left arm was high in the air as she struggled to balance four brides maid’s dresses during her walk, head focused down as she attempted to keep the cup of coffee in the other hand as far from the dresses as possible. She was moving quickly as she tried to get into work, the fitting was in 15 minutes and she had been up all night finishing alterations. She didn’t see the other rapidly approaching figure, and soon the coffee was spilling on the ground, herself discombobulated as she hurried to get hems away from the mess.
“I’m so sorry - it’s nearly impossible to see with all the organza.” She tried to apologize to the figure in front of her, brushing hair out of her face as she did so.
Sometimes John could stop and stand like a pillar in one place. He knew it was quite an inconvenience to people around him sometimes, but he either saw something that caught his eye or had a thought and got lost in it. For now, it was the latter, and he was just wondering to himself where the bloody hell all the insects went for winter that they could still come back come spring. His standing and staring aimlessly upwards caused a poor young lady to bump against him and spill her drink. He finally blinked a little and came back to reality, gasping at her wasted coffee. “Oh, I’m so sorry, miss, please allow me to purchase another drink for you.”
THERE IS SOMETHING FREEING about long walks in the park. perhaps it is the sole fact that she does so unencumbered by skirts & corsets. she can BREATHE here without feeling scrutinizing eyes on her back( she is not miss elizabeth bennet – the girl from longbourn with abysmal prospects ). in fact, lest she address herself, few would likely recognize her ! it is for this reason that she walks in stride, eyes trained above her – until she collides with another individiual. it is then when ingrained propriety resumes. she dips her head before addressing the other.
❝forgive me. i was so entranced by the trees i scarcely thought to look ahead of me. are you alright ? ❞
John hated bumping into people. Or rather, people bumping into him. Not because it was an inconvenience or anything like that, but because he was worried that they might get hurt. He didn’t feel it most of the time, especially if they were shorter than him, but he knew bumping into him was like walking into a tree. “I’m fine, really, just fine, are you?”
PALED DIGITS TREMBLE as they raise, slowly & delicately to rub at cerulean hues that haven’t seen sleep in far too long. he barely finds a resting moment to indulge himself in a f e w hours of blissful slumber on a good day, but he’s been particularly fitful as of late ; gunshots ( roar !! ) whenever the blonde so much as dares to curl up, enervated &languid upon the ragged couch that has fast become his entire lifeline. jolted AWAKE in a cold sweat far too many times, he’s given up on the mere concept of s l e e p and has instead adopted CAFFEINE&NICOTINE — — a steaming cup of the former sits teasingly in front of the blonde whilst digits find t o u s l e d tresses, if only to run through them & undo the disastrous, disheveled bun that’s kept it ( BARELY ! ) held up.
“ mon dieu, i can’t do this right now ! ” heavily ( A C C E N T E D) tone can only convey a FRACTION of the sheer frustration that builds itself into weary bones, hues snapping away from the propped-up textbook that alexandre has been gazing at for what feels like INTERMINABLE HOURS. he hasn’t even meant to SNAP like that, but the words linger, uncomfortable within the atmosphere as he aims a s e a r i n g stare down at his untouched mug, allowing a burdened sigh to part his brims.
John sighed at a nearby young man’s outburst because it startled him to the point that he’d dropped his book. After making the long trip down to bend and grab it off the floor, he went over to go an have a word with him. “Sir, I know finals are very stressful, but you’re not the only one here in the university commons, so I suggest you use your inside voice and leave the shouting for elsewhere.”
"i just want to know what happened to regular coffee,” he huffed, wiping down the counter of the coffee shop. “just black coffee, or just some cream and sugar to go with it. it’s too complicated now.”
John wrinkled his nose. “Regular coffee? More like what happened to tea. Everyone used to drink tea and now it’s this flavored, sweetened milk with a splash of coffee for color, I don’t understand it either, mate.”
