Have you ever been in love with a genius?
It’s almost like a magic trick. It’s floating. Precisely that.

There were days when I’d get home and Sherlock would be wrapped in a duvet, biting his lip in a desperate waver on the line of sanity. How would you deal with that? I’ve had my fair share of people turn, colleagues even, and to this day am clueless in how to heal the human mind; if I had known, I would have applied this knowledge to myself long ago.

On the rare occasion, I’m left alone in the small flat, the atmosphere completely taken away along with him. I’m left to wonder where he’s gone, knowing London like the back of his hand, the possibilities are endless. Now don’t get me wrong, Sherlock Holmes is a fantastic being with almost a million minds, but social aspects aren’t his strong point, bringing me to my main and most taunting thoughts.

Who is Mr. Holmes with right now?
Why didn’t he invite me along, I understand he’s an independent being, moreso than others, but of all people I thought that we, well. I thought that maybe we had this connection, almost magical.

Sherlock Holmes definitely doesn’t believe in magic, even the implication of a supernatural existence and he’s dribbling his logic into the situation like a faucet left dripping, until I’m finally driven to force it shut. But you see, after being told to be patient and cautious with the man I had expected so much different; he’s more an intellectual child at most. After our first case,