I sat in my room on my bed waiting for Sherlock to fall asleep. He played his violin for a while then lay down. After an hour or so, he stopped tossing and turning. I took the letter I had written and placed it on the kitchen table.

The door to Sherlock's room was open so I walked in and listened to his even breathing. He looked so peaceful when he slept. Like an angel... I walked over and brushed a stray curl off of his forehead. He didn't stir, and -I thought- since this may be my last chance...I leaned down and kissed his forehead. I head out of his room and down the hall into the kitchen. taking one last look around the flat and grab my bag walking into the living room.

"You know the odds of a single woman living on her own being murdered is extremely high." Sherlock says groggily. He stands in the doorway of the kitchen staring at me. Pleading with his eyes that I stay.

"I'll miss you, you git." I say dropping my bags and giving him a hug. He holds me tightly. I never want to let him go. But I have to. I take a deep breath. Gather my bags and walk down the stairs. I don't turn back, because if I did I'm sure I would never leave again. My heart in the pit of my stomach, I get in the cab and head to Andrea's house.

"I'll miss you too." Sherlock whispered out the window as his soulmate left in a cab. He sat down at the kitchen table, noticing the letter Keyland had left there. He picked it up walked over to the fireplace, where he stabbed it to the mantle with his knife.

In 221b there sat a Detective who couldn't spot if somebody loved him, even if they told him to his face. All alone.

Yet neither he nor I could see the awful things which were to come...