I Won't Tell Anybody That You Turn the World Around

I walked up to the front door and stopped suddenly with my hand on the doorknob. My breath was coming out as white mist and hit my face as I sighed and looked down at my boot-clad feet. I was shivering in my winter coat; it was the kind of cold that shook me to my bones.

“May I help you?” I jumped at the man’s voice behind me. I turned my head to look at him, he was a medium height with blonde hair and dark blue eyes but he had such a kind face.

“No, thank you.” I turned back to face the door as a realization dawned upon me.

“You live here?” I looked back behind my shoulder as he leaned on the stair railing and smiled at me.

“Yes, I do.”

“I don’t live here, but my aunt does.” He laughed at the beginning of my sentence and joined me on the step just before the door.

“Ah, so you are the niece that has come for a visit.” He pulled his keys out and fumbled with them for a moment before inserting one of them into the lock.

“Yes, I’m Layla.” He reached across his middle and grasped my gloved hand in a shake before smiling.

“I’m John, nice to meet you Layla.” He pushed the door open and allowed me to go in front of him. I grabbed my duffel bag and threw it into the foyer as he closed the door behind himself.

“You’re a little early, your aunt stepped out to the store. She should be back in a bit.” I nodded my head as I pulled off my hat and let my wavy, dark hair cascade over my shoulders.

“I live upstairs with-“

“Sherlock, yes I am well aware of him.” I subconsciously looked up the staircase as I pulled my gloves off and added them inside of my hat.

“So you’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” I laughed at his sarcastic tone.

“Briefly, at my uncle’s trial. I bought him a new set of beakers as a thank you.” John shot me a weird look but smiled and nodded. The door swung open behind us as we both turned to look at who entered. With a gust of wind I regretted taking my gloves off as I brought my hand to my mouth and began blowing on them.

“Hello.” His deep voice met my ears as he closed the door behind him, he unwrapped his blue scarf and stared at me with a calculating expression.

“Mr. Holmes.” I greeted with a curt nod of my head.

“You’re early.” I nodded again at the fact he spoke.

“I am.” I replied back matching his tone.

“John meet me upstairs at your earliest convenience.” He swept past the both of us and made his way up the stairs.

“Nice to see you too.” I muttered under my breath as he was out of earshot.

“Well, that is my cue but do you want to-.” He motioned with his head in the direction Sherlock had just disappeared.

“I’ll wait here for my aunt, but thank you.” He shot me a smile and headed up the stairs.

“Oh! You’re here!” I spun around as the door opened for a third time and grinned at my aunt.

“I’m here!” She grabbed me into a hug after she shut the door, blocking out the cold.

“Look at you.” She pulled back with her hands on my arms, a smile lighting her face.

“Oh, and your hair.” She reached up to gently pet a lock of my hair.

“Do you like the color?” I was naturally a dark blonde but I had recently dyed my hair a dark auburn color.

“I love it, dear.” I noticed she had dropped two grocery bags at the door and I pulled her back in for another hug.

“It’s so good to be here.” She squeezed me tightly and then we both released each other as I threw my bag over my shoulder and grabbed both grocery bags.

“Layla you don’t have to do that.” I waved her off as she only sighed at me, but smiled as she led me up the stairs. I jumped as we reached the second floor and there was a loud noise.

“What was that?” My aunt didn’t even look phased as she opened the door.

“Just Sherlock being Sherlock.” The smile had slipped off my face at this point as I followed behind her and kicked the door closed with my foot.

“Hello Mrs. Hudson.” John greeted from an armchair as he looked over his newspaper at us.

“Hello John, this is my niece Layla.” She gestured to me as I maneuvered my way around her and headed towards the kitchen.

“Yes, we met but only a few moments ago.” Sherlock was staring intensely at a reaction in one of the beakers I had gotten him so long ago. I placed the bags on the counter and set my bag down on the floor.

“And Sherlock, you remember my Layla?” My aunt joined us in the kitchen as I started pulling food out of the bags.

“I don’t think he is with us right now.” I said as I turned to look at the head of curly, dark hair.

“Sherlock, manners!” I jumped at her voice and I heard John chuckling from the next room over.

“Yes, I remember Layla although I do not remember her being so anxious.” His smooth, deep voice made me stop what I was doing and turn my body fully to look at the back of his head.

“I’m not anxious.” I answered a little too quickly and knew that was my second mistake.

“Yes you are.” The liquid inside of the beaker began to bubble, as he seemed to lose his focus on me for the time being. I glanced at my aunt who was now staring at me, worried.

“You are unnerved by loud, sudden sounds. Your lips look like you have been chewing on them out of anxiety, something you haven’t done for a very long time. Your hands are shaking; there is no immediate danger here so I think it’s your lack of eating. You have bags under your eyes from lack of sleep and you are extremely closed off.” I looked down at my chest where my arms were crossed tightly.

“Has it ever occurred to you to keep your thoughts to yourself.” I snapped.

“No.” He turned at my angry tone and all I could see was his eyes calculating me.

“Well, maybe it should.” I turned to place the milk in the fridge, screamed, and slammed it shut.

“Sorry, forgot that was in there.” John said as he entered the room and grabbed the milk from me and placed it in the fridge on the shelf furthest away from the human head.

“No problem.” My good mood was gone as I turned to look at the cabinets and gripped at the counter.

“Layla, is everything okay?” Now he had my aunt worried about me, something that I didn’t want to happen. Stupid, curly-haired imbecile.

“Everything is fine.” I tried my best to smile but knew it was failing.

“No, it isn’t.” I spun around to face Sherlock as he spoke.

“Will you just shut your mouth?” He pressed his lips together tightly as he stared at me. His eyes narrowed as he glanced over at my aunt and then back to me.

“Not everyone appreciates you speaking aloud what you observe, you know.” John’s voice made Sherlock turn to look at him as he leaned against the refrigerator.

“My apologies then, Layla.” He looked at me with a blank expression and then turned back to the experiment on the table.

“Right.” I spat at the back of his head quietly as I looked up at the ceiling.

“Well, is anyone hungry, I can make some lunch?” I smiled as I looked at my aunt, her eyes crinkled with a forced smile.

“Yes, please.” I answered as John nodded. Sherlock was content with ignoring us, pouring acetone in another container and waiting with his hands poised underneath his chin.

“Layla, I cleaned out ‘C’ for you if you want to stay there.” I nodded my head and was relieved I didn’t have to stay within a floor of the detective.

“Thanks, I’ll just set up my things and be back up.” I grabbed my bag off of the floor and slung it over my shoulder.

“You served?” John finally seemed to notice my bag, in all of it’s weathered glory.

“Yes, two years.” Sherlock turned, once again, to look at me.

“152nd division, medic.” He smiled warmly at me as he held his hand up to his forehead in a salute.

“164th division Lieutenant Colonel.” I matched his stance and saluted him. His expression was that of surprise.

“That’s a high rank for someone who looks so young.” He stood up straight now, with his hands at his sides.

“She’s a smart girl.” My aunt answered for me. I smiled at her and shifted my bag on my shoulder.

“I’ll be back up in a bit.” I managed to bow out of the room, with three sets of eyes staring at me. Awkward, much?