sherlock? can you come here for a second?” you called from inside the bedroom.

an unintelligible noise rang out followed by the clanging of what you could only assume was some tools from his countless experiments, before his approaching footsteps sounded in the hallway and his head of curls popped into the crack you left open in the door.

“you’re wearing my shirt,” he said simply. his blue eyes drank you in from head to toe: at the bare legs leading up to his deep purple shirt—your favorite—