She
folder
S through Z › Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,168
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
S through Z › Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,168
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Sherlock Holmes 2009 or any of the characters do not belong to me, and I make no money from writing this.
She
She
’How terrible is wisdom, when it brings no profit to the wise,’ he’d once said, the words now coming back to him, haunting him, the utter insanity of the concept of ’wisdom’ altogether lost, and then found in the eyes of this angelic woman. ’Mary’, his mind whispers like the first flames of a fire which burns in his heart.
Intelligence, her achievements in the world of men shunning Lord Coward's self-indulgent smugness into oblivion, his hands shaking in front of the lady he’d die for.
Never a word exchanged, yet, the twirl of her skirts as she steps out of the office, the lightness of her step as she lifts the hem, revealing a glimpse of an ankle, of the dainty foot which Coward shalln’t see sullied.
Short of throwing himself into the pool of grit and grime, he steps forth, tips his hat and takes a long breath, inhaling the sweet scent to which he will sleep.
Again, on this day, from a distance he longs to sew shut, he swears not to live to his name.
Tomorrow.
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’How terrible is wisdom, when it brings no profit to the wise,’ he’d once said, the words now coming back to him, haunting him, the utter insanity of the concept of ’wisdom’ altogether lost, and then found in the eyes of this angelic woman. ’Mary’, his mind whispers like the first flames of a fire which burns in his heart.
Intelligence, her achievements in the world of men shunning Lord Coward's self-indulgent smugness into oblivion, his hands shaking in front of the lady he’d die for.
Never a word exchanged, yet, the twirl of her skirts as she steps out of the office, the lightness of her step as she lifts the hem, revealing a glimpse of an ankle, of the dainty foot which Coward shalln’t see sullied.
Short of throwing himself into the pool of grit and grime, he steps forth, tips his hat and takes a long breath, inhaling the sweet scent to which he will sleep.
Again, on this day, from a distance he longs to sew shut, he swears not to live to his name.
Tomorrow.
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