There's a spiderweb crack in the ceiling. Just there. Foundational. Eventually, with the good push of a northern tectonic plate earthquake, the building itself will crash down like a house of cards. Sherlock's eye remains on this fissure in the plaster now, of course, even as Irene Adler's perfume swells up like a summer squall around him; even as her fingers walk, spindly and purposeful, over his chest. There are additional seismic incidents taking place at the moment, of course...
Her lips pass across his -- the first time Sherlock Holmes has been properly kissed -- and already his regimented mind is slotting the various sensations into place. A singular electric frisson up his spine, of course, goes undiagnosed by the acumen -- though it, in itself, inspires the inward trace of his palm across her elbow, pulling her close.
Thunder rumbles the kettle and cups. I think you already know.
Sherlock Holmes' fingers slide up the back of Irene Adler's silky back, twining at the base of her neck, drawing her in for a deeper, more purposeful kiss.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-11-16 02:45 am (UTC)Her lips pass across his -- the first time Sherlock Holmes has been properly kissed -- and already his regimented mind is slotting the various sensations into place. A singular electric frisson up his spine, of course, goes undiagnosed by the acumen -- though it, in itself, inspires the inward trace of his palm across her elbow, pulling her close.
Thunder rumbles the kettle and cups. I think you already know.
Sherlock Holmes' fingers slide up the back of Irene Adler's silky back, twining at the base of her neck, drawing her in for a deeper, more purposeful kiss.