Sherlock studies the sample under the microscope in the labor, trying to make sense of the evidence he found. But today he is a bit out of character. His brain not working correctly. You probably ask why, yeah, it‘s because of you. He has fallen so damn deeply in love with you, but he would never admit it. He only admits it when he deep talks with John. He hates it, it frustrates him, he didn’t wanted to fall in love or even get confronted with this shit. But here he is. He hates it, he hates how much he loves you. he doesn’t even know why he does. How ironic. They say love is beautiful feeling, but he can‘t feel that.

He sighs and lazily checks his phone. — He got a message from Mycroft. Typical. He re-reads the message and then finally, he sets the phone down, considering. He reaches up to rub his forehead, a slight frown creasing his brow — a rare sign of strain.