marybegone: He could hear the humming even from afar and it grew louder the nearer he got to the lit
marybegone:He could hear the humming even from afar and it grew louder the nearer he got to the little copse of trees at the end of the lawn. And there he found Sherlock, sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of a row of beehives, his back to the house. John kept a respectful distance and watched in fascination as bees swarmed around Sherlock, occasionally landing on his hair or shoulders, crawling around in circles and taking off again. He didn’t seem to notice while working away on a tablet computer.‘Don’t you ever get stung?’ John asked.Sherlock froze. For a few moments he sat totally motionless, then made a gentle shooing motion which rendered him bee-free within seconds and slowly turned around. He looked up at John. ‘And why would they sting me?’ he said. 'I don’t harm them.’So, that was what a holidaying Sherlock looked like. His hair was tousled and its rich, dark colour shimmered auburn in the sunlight. His cheekbones and the ridge of his nose showed a bit of sunburn. The black eye had faded to blotchy shades of green and yellow still marring his face. He wore a collarless, wide-cut shirt that looked old, as if it had been washed and dried in the sun so often that the material was broken down to feathery softness.Commission for 'Destination Unknown’ by cloudmelon - thank you so much! -- source link
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