Was it you all along? Sherlock was there a month later pretending to be no more, fooling you with a breathing technique he learned on some remote mountain top years before. I suppose the room is a magnet for love lost and mysteries solved… I don’t remember now what motivated you to lie -Was it love? Money? Revenge?? I think perhaps a bit of each. But it was the tea that became your weapon of choice. (A quiet, very British way to off someone and a bit cliche if you ask me.) You always offered but never enjoyed… I eventually caught on that only one tea cup ever sat waiting to be your accessory, your partner-in-crime.
Skipper smiled, exchanging glances with an innocent looking unicorn with a bright blue eye. The unicorn seemed a bit apprehensive but she was sitting on top of War in the Modern World. (A feat only a unicorn was strong enough to handle.) It was a crazy place where paint brushes covered in paints from all they’ve contributed to, saddle shoes, random rocks, rusted nails, wood and saints, and wooden saints all joined with bunnies made of dust and the spiders that used them for homes and maternity wards. It was a quietly forgotten corner that seemed to celebrate what was and what could be. It was a corner where, “That’s the way I love you” would whisper until the end of days.