Another hard, working day is finally over. You left the publishing house, closing eyes with a quiet sigh.

The slightly cool evening air immediately hit your face. The streets were already illuminated, and the streets began to be empty.

You were about to go down the stairs, but stopped for a moment. Down here, with hands clasped behind his back, there was already such a familiar figure.

"Y/N..." Sherlock started to say, but you came down and silently walked past "Y/N, wait–"