Chapter 7 - Invitations

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DISCLAIMER: I have not created and do not own the following characters mentioned within this writing, apart from Jonah

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Your eyes glanced around frantically for something to wear, your apartment had been practically torn apart since you began the treacherous task of finding an outfit for tonight. Pulling across another section of hangers you sighed in defeat

"That can't be everything..no..no..nope..definitely not..ugh, when did I even buy this?!" Shoving the unwanted items of clothing to the ground they covered your bare feet making your leg flick up to kick them away, causing the thump of fabric to hit your desk soon followed by a clatter of objects.

"Sh*t"

Hopping around over towards your desk the sight of smashed glass perfume bottles and their pungent scent filled your nasal passage with a thick musk. Coughing from the intoxicating concoction you rushed into the kitchen to gather equipment to clean the mess as quickly as possible. Returning back to the scene you dabbed away the fragrant liquid with a damp cloth before sweeping up the shattered glass chunks with a dust pan and brush. 'Well that was fun'

An hour passed before you reached the final conclusion to wear a black dress which hid craftily at the back of the wardrobe. You can't even recall how it stayed there all that time, but you didn't complain; even though it did feel weird, the smell was odd. It wasn't like the rest of your clothes at all.

A sudden memory pierced your mind to where the dress had come from.

You shuddered.

"Why does he have to be a memory on all of my nice things" the bitter tone in your voice lingered as your fingers ran over the delicate fabric of the dress. It was such a waste not to wear it out again, even if it did remind you of 'Him'.

After mentally battling to reason weather to keep the black dress on or not your quite exhausted form plonked itself next to the window out looking the dead street below. It was a Friday night and no one was out? weird.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Peering over to the hunk of plastic resting on your cluttered bed side table you lazily got up to see who had texted. 'God so much attention over lil ol me?'

Quite to your surprise it was actually Sherlock who had texted you, the creeping sense of a smile dared to scour your face. But it dropped rather suddenly..

'Are you going out tonight?'

-S

You hesitated. It's definitely hard to lie to a genius in general. But to lie to a genius who happens to be more than an acquaintance was even harder. Sherlock seemed like a wonderful guy even though he wasn't per say 'normal' and the gut clenching feeling you got every time you continued on with this seemed to get worse and worse as the minutes ticked by.

'Let's just leave this text unanswered'

This sentence hammered an echo for the next half an hour before it really was time to go.

Grabbing everything you'll need including that god forsaken phone, you reached for the door swinging it open to be surprised with the one and only...

Sherlock Holmes.

He turned quite calmly in response to you opening the door 'How can someone act so 'cool'? However this previous thought was diminished as you spotted the slight reddening on Sherlock's cheeks, it couldn't have been related to him running down the stairs unless he was really unfit... which he sure as hell wasn't! 'Oh god am I drooling?' rubbing your chin subconsciously you mentally cheered yourself when there in fact was no drool at all 'Yes, go (y/n) for not drooling over her new neighbour! Wait what was I questioning again? Is he okay.. it looks like he's just figured out that I'm some serial killer and he's spotted my plans to murder him brutally.. is there something in my teeth? Oh god I didn't leave the teeth whiteners in did I?!... no, phew close call. But there is definitely something bugging Sherlock. What the hell is wrong with the guy tonight?'

Sherlocks POV

I was currently about to explode to the excruciating feeling of 'emotions'. Honestly, I don't even see why society gave it such a delicate sounding word to stand for them. In my opinion the feeling of feet stomping on your organs while helium lifted your stomach was more along the lines of torture rather than 'desire'. But my eyes could not help but wonder. How could a simple woman attract the likes of me, Sherlock Holmes by simply changing the item of clothing that they wore. That's the catch though, the great answer.. (y/n) wasn't 'simple' she was anything but that. There was something about her, be it the spark in her eyes or the tone of her voice, it always sent an electric static throughout my nerves setting me on edge.

"Sherlock?"

"Hm?"

My eyes lost their phased paralysis as I recalled my rehearsed lines

"I-I was just thinking about you-no I was wondering if you were okay.. After that phone call I mean. I didn't hear from you for the rest of the day-what I originally set out to say was, are you okay?"

'Since when do I stutter? WHEN HAVE I EVER STUTTERED?!.'

You could not help but stifle a series of girlish giggles, he was being so cute stuttering and asking about your well being. It's wasn't everyday that a handsome gentleman worried about you.

"I'm fine Sherlock, really. It was just a bit of a shock to hear from such an old friend- well friend of a friend... you know what I mean" You smiled reassuring yourself that you were absolutely calm, but you couldn't have felt the pressure more if you were plunged under a billion tonnes of bricks.

"Are you absolutely sure (y/n), I know we've only known one another for a few days but I do believe you share the same connection that I do you." said Sherlock.

His eyes. His eyes. They were a pathway to his true self, a man who can never trust anyone, someone who is constantly troubled with severe questions that remain unanswered. How can such a troubled man look so.. beautiful? It's not a word I use commonly to describe a man's looks, usually I would go for handsome or confident. Not beautiful. But what I mean by beautiful is that he not only looks physically attractive but his mind, his mind is absolutely incredible. Magnificent at the least.

"(y/n) .. why are you crying?" Sherlock tilted his head past the door frame to inspect you at a closer range.

"I'm crying?" You noted how warm your eyelids felt along with the damp sensation of tears trickling past your waterlines, you laugh half-heartily "I didn't realise..."

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After your second break down in front of Sherlock, he had insisted to escort you for the dinner that was going to be with 'a friend'. You denied him saying that it would be awkward for Jim as he only originally invited you along, plus if what Sherlock said was really true about him you thought it ought to be best to keep the two away from each other. It had only just dawned on you how keeping such a small secret from Sherlock affected your behaviour so much. For a man you'd only known for a maximum of several days, he'd already formed such a strong connection to you; perhaps that was a naive and childish thing to assume. That you two were some form of pair chosen by destiny, you didn't even want to think of the phrase 'soulmates', because things like that simply are not real. They do not exist, they are only in our minds to make us feel better and to give us the hope that we all have a chance to find 'the one'.

Bright lights and cars whizzed down the busy road as you crossed off of the frost lined pavement, while your black stilettos chipped away on the asphalt before they reached a firm stop. You had by some miracle found the restaurant that Jim texted the address to, the building was huge with artificially lit windows; through the clear glass you could spot a grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling. This had to be the wrong place. As you continued on wards you spotted many couples and parties exiting the restaurant, so much for feeling overdressed. The men were sporting well tailored suits with arrays of different flower broaches, while women strode in their beautifully adorned gowns and perfectly styled hair. And there was you, standing awkwardly and alone in a short black cocktail dress with your scuffed stiletto heels which you could only just walk in. As much as you already hated this, you knew that it would be very rude to stand Jim up; he had been kind enough to ring you up in a time of despair. So it would only be right to have a drink with him. Though you weren't even sure if this place had such a thing as a bar, even if it did you probably wouldn't be able to afford any of the alcohol there. Looks like a sober night of (hopefully) free water and overly priced coke. Reaching the entrance you were greeted by a tall man dressed in yet another suit, though his was a dark shade of green, it matched his eyes well.

"Welcome to the Curled Vine Restaurant, my name is Jonah. Will you be dining with us tonight?" he said, a small smile on his lips.

You blinked trying to form a sentence in your head which didn't make you look like you were lying your way into the place, "Um, yes. I am meant to be meeting a friend- a friend of a friend. Jim?"

"Ah, does this 'Jim' have a surname?" Jonah trailed his index finger down what you assumed was some sort of guest list, his hazel eyes darted up to you after an unneeded amount of silence, "Madame?"

Bugger. "Well I don't know his surname, only his first name-" You huffed hearing how ridiculous you sounded, "He's um- he's a friend of my close friend David"

Jonah met your desperate gaze with a blank one.

"He's Irish?" Still nothing.

You suddenly felt very self conscious when you noted the rather large queue behind you. You dared not turn around and meet their looks of disgust and distaste. Their thoughts of you would probably be that you're some random woman off the street, off her face drunk, going on about her friend of a friend Irish mate Jim.

"You know what, never mind. I'm sorry I wasted your time" You muttered to Jonah before swiftly turning to your heel, getting the hell out of there. You hadn't even got through the front doors and had already been absolutely humiliated. You felt your eyes beginning to sting and your sights went blurry, suddenly a strong figure collided into your front. Great. As you fumbled around on the floor in your stupid heels, you cursed and pulled at your dress which had ridden up during the fall. Knowing the people around here, the person was probably going to attempt to sue you or something.

"I do believe that I told you to meet me in the restaurant (y/n)" An Irish accent tinkered in your ears, forcing you to look up.

"Jim?" Your brows rose past your hairline, Jesus he was hot. Why are all the guys around here unnaturally attractive. You felt a blush creep along your neck, thankfully the dim lighting would probably hide it.

"Yes (y/n) it is I Jim." He snickered before lending a hand to help you up, you gave a shy smile, "Thanks".

"As ravishing as you look in that position.. I think it is best for you to stand, dear. Wouldn't want to ruin that lovely dress now would we?"

He's incredibly hot AND smooth, I'm not going to survive ten minutes with this man let alone a whole night with him. Sherlock was right, this man is dangerous. Dangerously sly and attractive. I didn't think this through well enough, what are we even going to talk about?

"Here", wrapping a firm arm around yours he clutched your hand gently, it felt like you were walking down the red carpet towards some amazing premier. You glanced as many women gave longing stares at Jim, he simply ignored them as if you were the only other person on earth. You felt empowered with Jim, like no one could touch you. Only him.

The walk back to the front doors was quicker than before with people spreading apart like the red sea to allow you and Jim in, Jonah's eyes widened at the mere sight of Jim. It was a surprise they didn't pop out of his skull when he spotted you in hand, he looked like he'd seen a ghost. He practically lunged for the doors to allow you both in, obviously Jim came here often. Since when did David have rich friends? The last time you saw him he was scavenging paper clips for his work files.

Your thoughts were silenced as you entered into the hall, the chandelier from earlier revealed it's full form of dangling crystals reflecting the light like droplets of water, forming small rainbows across the well decorated walls. The ceiling had lifelike paintings of clouds and a baby blue sky, if you squinted you could figure out familiar birds and flowers detailed intricately. The many tables were set out with polished and perfected cutlery, while bouquets of orchids and vines merged together as one. The atmosphere was warm and relaxing, with waiters gliding around on their heels to the music emanating from the grand piano placed directly in the middle of the room.

You could have spent hours sitting, staring at the room as a whole. It was just exquisite.

"Would you like a drink?"

Deep breath (y/n) you can get a drink with a guy you've just met, it's gonna be great, gonna be fine.. I'm gonna pass out.

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*burststhroughthedoor* Heeeeeeeres Johnny!. Oh my how it's been a long long long long time since i've updated... please don't hurt me. Not much really happened in this chapter I know but I wanted to make it quite long because you guys have been so patient and nice with your comments and it means a lot to me. In my absence lot's of spanners have been thrown into the works, if you haven't read my bio it says that I am currently revising and ya it's true. As much as I actually hate revising I still have to do it to get through my exams. So please don't get worried if I dissappear off the face of the earth again, I will most likely be suffocating under many papers and books...Which is fineeee. I'll be coming back it'll just take a while to update. As always I hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter, I love when you all do. Plus keep commenting, and if you especially liked this chapter if you can favourite it, I would be most grateful. Love you all.

Laterz x

Oh, Happy Halloween ^.^

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