Romantic Holmes

My slumber was not what I had hoped. My dreams were hellish things, fraught with the kind of danger and trickery that no needle, vile or the like could ever have gifted me with.

I found myself in a dank tunnel, surrounded on all sides by images of my past, present and a future not yet realised, all of which taunted me without mercy, and in truth, terrified me beyond clear reason.

Nevertheless, I know I must have fought against my demons, for when I woke to the familiar sounds of Mrs Hudson engaged in conversation with the only other member of our household my hands were tangled within the afghan, almost to the point that circulation to my fingers had ceased.

I wanted nothing more than to release myself from my prison of bedclothes and be on my way but as rising now would certainly mean a confrontation, and would I believed, only bring undue grief to those I held dearest to me I kept both my place, and my silence.

Despite my unsatisfactory position I listen as Mrs Hudson fusses over my dear Watson in her most attentive manner and even allow my heart to lighten briefly at the sounds of their voices, so full of genuine affection that I would have given anything to be able to join them.

I would miss our little family, and yet I knew there was no saving it. One of us would have to leave this place.

My fingers curled with an accord of their own, paining me further, but even so nothing could compare to the ache within my breast. I stifled my urge to scream - to curse the unfairness of it all, though I knew I only had myself to blame. If I had not weakened, and allowed Watson into my heart, not to mention my bed, none of us would ever have to contemplate a day without the other.

Oh, there was no doubt in my mind that my sentence had truly begun, but my torment it seemed, would be as my dreams had predicted, slow and without mercy.

Watson had always been somewhat tardy over his meals and our good landlady was apt to indulge him at every opportunity. Still, the time taken over tea and toast seemed an insufferably long duration and it was a good while later before I heard the table being cleared and Mrs Hudson’s departing foot steps.

I could feel Watson’s lingering presence long after Mrs Hudson had gone. It was far longer than was wise I thought, considering the demand for his attention elsewhere. He stood over me at one point, gently encouraging me to wake. It was a tempting invitation and in my minds eyes I imagined him also reaching for me as he had last night, pulling me toward him and pressing himself impossibly close. Sadly though, last night, was and could only ever be, a sweet memory and as I finally noted his withdrawal from the room and eventual departure from our lodgings, I let him go - farewelling my love and the better half of my heart.