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darnedchildSummary: "I swear, I don’t know whether I want to kiss him or kill him.” (SAW 2020 - Day 5)
Rating: G
A/N - Day 5 – Friends-to-Lovers/Rivals-to-Lovers
#Sherlollyweek2020
Chemistry
“He drives me crazy,” Molly hissed as she stabbed a straw into her iced latte.
“As you’ve already said, more than once.” Meena peeled the top lair of rye bread off of her sandwich and grimaced. “How hard is it to leave off the mustard?” She raised her head to glare at the clerk hovering behind the counter.
“Stop terrorizing the staff and listen to me.” Molly smacked her friend’s hand with her empty straw wrapper.
“I just don’t understand why we keep coming back here, there’s another coffee shop on the other side of the campus. I bet they could figure out how to make a sandwich correctly.” Her glare returned to the now vacant counter; the clerk having found something vitally important to do out of Meena’s line of sight.
“Whatever, can we get back to me venting please?”
Meena scrapped off as much mustard as she could with her finger, then slapped her sandwich back together. “Fine. This guy gets on your last nerve.”
Molly nodded as she took a sip of her drink. “He never bothers to pay attention when he shows up for class, if he shows up. He always has this… bored expression on his face, like he’s only there because he’s required to be.”
“So, like every other student with an eight am class?” Meena teased.
“Some of us are here because we actually want to learn.”
Meena rolled her eyes. “That is the most pretentious-“
“Hey.” Molly grabbed the wrinkled straw wrapper and hit her with it again. “Venting.”
“Right. Sorry. Please continue.”
“He never comes to the assigned peer study sessions. I asked him why once. Do you know what he said?”
“He already knows all of it?” Meena mumbled around a mouthful of her subpar sandwich.
“He said he doesn’t have to study because he already knows all of it.” Molly confirmed, as if they hadn’t had this exact conversation a week ago.
“Why does his disinterest in passing chem bother you so much? Just let it go.”
Molly shook her head and leaned across the table toward Meena. “I can’t. It’s not just the study sessions. Now we’ve got a group project to turn in at the end of the semester, and somehow, he ended up in my group. It’s worth twenty percent of my grade! He may not need to worry about his GPA, but I’ve got to keep my scholarship and he’s going to ruin it for me!”
She settled back in her chair with a defeated groan. “I want to throw something at him but he’s got those stupid curls and those biteable lips, and it is so hard to hate him outright when he’s looking at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. Then he opens his mouth and it gets a little easier. He’s so infuriating!”
Meena’s eyes widened in alarm, but Molly didn’t notice as she continued to rant. “I swear, I don’t know whether I want to kiss him or kill him.”
Her friend covered her mouth and quietly hissed, “Behind you!”
Dread washed over Molly as she slowly turned in her chair to find the annoyance in question standing there, watching her.
“Hooper,” he finally acknowledged her after several seconds.
“Holmes.”
He worked his lips for a moment, then nodded his head as if he’d made some sort of a decision. “Your dorm room. Eight tonight.”
Molly blinked. “Pardon?”
“You want to study, we’ll study.” He started to walk off.
“Wait!” She held out her hand toward him. “You don’t know where I live.”
“Not a problem,” Sherlock called over his shoulder as he slipped through the crowded tables and out of the coffee shop.
இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—
She spent twenty minutes straightening up her room, although she didn’t know why she was bothering. He wasn’t going to show up. Was he?
Molly kept glancing at the alarm clock on her desk, counting down the minutes to eight.
Still, the knock on her door at exactly seven fifty-nine managed to catch her by surprise. With any luck, he hadn’t heard her startled squeak out in the hall.
Unfortunately, the smirk on his lips when she opened the door dashed all over her hopes on that front.
“Holmes.” She gestured for him to come in.
He stepped past her with a nod and an almost uncharacteristically polite, “Molly.”
That confused her. In the entire time they’d known each other, nearly half a semester so far, he’d never once addressed her by her first name. She’d started calling him “Holmes” after the third or fourth “Hooper” and it had stuck.
He plopped into her only chair and tossed his messenger bag onto her desk.
Molly quietly shut the door and settled herself into the middle of her bed, surrounded by her chem book and notes. She looked up and frowned when it became apparent that he hadn’t moved since he sat down. “Aren’t you going to get your book out?”
Holmes—Sherlock, as they were apparently on a first name basis for some reason—shrugged and flipped open his bag to tug his book free. “All right, tell me what you’re having problems with.”
They worked until nearly ten. She’d expected him to be standoffish and rude, much like he was in class, but he’d made an effort to hold his tongue when he’d realized he was becoming condescending.
“Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late. Um, thank you. For the help.” Molly ducked her head to hide behind her hair as she began to carefully organize her notes. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For what I said earlier. At the coffee shop.”
“Why?”
She looked up to find him watching her. “Pardon?”
“Why apologize? You meant it at the time. And no one is going to deny that I am an arsehole.”
“I-“ There really wasn’t a lot she could say in response to that. He wasn’t wrong. “Still.”
Sherlock tilted his head to study her. It almost made her feel as if she were under a microscope. “Have you decided?”
“I’m sorry?”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and grinned. “Kiss me or kick me. Have you decided?”
That was probably the last thing she expected him to say.
Sherlock slowly stood and took the two steps to stand next to her bed, then looked down at her with the barest hint of a confident smile on his lips. “I know which I’d prefer; but I would need to make sure you weren’t doing it because you felt the need to pay me back for tonight.”
Her jaw fell open, then snapped shut when she realized she must look ridiculous.
“Which is it, Molly?”
As if there was any real choice.
She reached up to grab a handful of his shirt and yanked him down to the bed next to her. “Planned that out in advance, didn’t you?”
“Might have. It worked though, didn’t it?” He smirked as he leaned in to kiss her.
“We’ll see. I’m still considering leaving the kicking option open.”
“Noted.”
Rating: G
A/N - Day 5 – Friends-to-Lovers/Rivals-to-Lovers
#Sherlollyweek2020
Chemistry
“He drives me crazy,” Molly hissed as she stabbed a straw into her iced latte.
“As you’ve already said, more than once.” Meena peeled the top lair of rye bread off of her sandwich and grimaced. “How hard is it to leave off the mustard?” She raised her head to glare at the clerk hovering behind the counter.
“Stop terrorizing the staff and listen to me.” Molly smacked her friend’s hand with her empty straw wrapper.
“I just don’t understand why we keep coming back here, there’s another coffee shop on the other side of the campus. I bet they could figure out how to make a sandwich correctly.” Her glare returned to the now vacant counter; the clerk having found something vitally important to do out of Meena’s line of sight.
“Whatever, can we get back to me venting please?”
Meena scrapped off as much mustard as she could with her finger, then slapped her sandwich back together. “Fine. This guy gets on your last nerve.”
Molly nodded as she took a sip of her drink. “He never bothers to pay attention when he shows up for class, if he shows up. He always has this… bored expression on his face, like he’s only there because he’s required to be.”
“So, like every other student with an eight am class?” Meena teased.
“Some of us are here because we actually want to learn.”
Meena rolled her eyes. “That is the most pretentious-“
“Hey.” Molly grabbed the wrinkled straw wrapper and hit her with it again. “Venting.”
“Right. Sorry. Please continue.”
“He never comes to the assigned peer study sessions. I asked him why once. Do you know what he said?”
“He already knows all of it?” Meena mumbled around a mouthful of her subpar sandwich.
“He said he doesn’t have to study because he already knows all of it.” Molly confirmed, as if they hadn’t had this exact conversation a week ago.
“Why does his disinterest in passing chem bother you so much? Just let it go.”
Molly shook her head and leaned across the table toward Meena. “I can’t. It’s not just the study sessions. Now we’ve got a group project to turn in at the end of the semester, and somehow, he ended up in my group. It’s worth twenty percent of my grade! He may not need to worry about his GPA, but I’ve got to keep my scholarship and he’s going to ruin it for me!”
She settled back in her chair with a defeated groan. “I want to throw something at him but he’s got those stupid curls and those biteable lips, and it is so hard to hate him outright when he’s looking at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. Then he opens his mouth and it gets a little easier. He’s so infuriating!”
Meena’s eyes widened in alarm, but Molly didn’t notice as she continued to rant. “I swear, I don’t know whether I want to kiss him or kill him.”
Her friend covered her mouth and quietly hissed, “Behind you!”
Dread washed over Molly as she slowly turned in her chair to find the annoyance in question standing there, watching her.
“Hooper,” he finally acknowledged her after several seconds.
“Holmes.”
He worked his lips for a moment, then nodded his head as if he’d made some sort of a decision. “Your dorm room. Eight tonight.”
Molly blinked. “Pardon?”
“You want to study, we’ll study.” He started to walk off.
“Wait!” She held out her hand toward him. “You don’t know where I live.”
“Not a problem,” Sherlock called over his shoulder as he slipped through the crowded tables and out of the coffee shop.
She spent twenty minutes straightening up her room, although she didn’t know why she was bothering. He wasn’t going to show up. Was he?
Molly kept glancing at the alarm clock on her desk, counting down the minutes to eight.
Still, the knock on her door at exactly seven fifty-nine managed to catch her by surprise. With any luck, he hadn’t heard her startled squeak out in the hall.
Unfortunately, the smirk on his lips when she opened the door dashed all over her hopes on that front.
“Holmes.” She gestured for him to come in.
He stepped past her with a nod and an almost uncharacteristically polite, “Molly.”
That confused her. In the entire time they’d known each other, nearly half a semester so far, he’d never once addressed her by her first name. She’d started calling him “Holmes” after the third or fourth “Hooper” and it had stuck.
He plopped into her only chair and tossed his messenger bag onto her desk.
Molly quietly shut the door and settled herself into the middle of her bed, surrounded by her chem book and notes. She looked up and frowned when it became apparent that he hadn’t moved since he sat down. “Aren’t you going to get your book out?”
Holmes—Sherlock, as they were apparently on a first name basis for some reason—shrugged and flipped open his bag to tug his book free. “All right, tell me what you’re having problems with.”
They worked until nearly ten. She’d expected him to be standoffish and rude, much like he was in class, but he’d made an effort to hold his tongue when he’d realized he was becoming condescending.
“Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late. Um, thank you. For the help.” Molly ducked her head to hide behind her hair as she began to carefully organize her notes. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For what I said earlier. At the coffee shop.”
“Why?”
She looked up to find him watching her. “Pardon?”
“Why apologize? You meant it at the time. And no one is going to deny that I am an arsehole.”
“I-“ There really wasn’t a lot she could say in response to that. He wasn’t wrong. “Still.”
Sherlock tilted his head to study her. It almost made her feel as if she were under a microscope. “Have you decided?”
“I’m sorry?”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and grinned. “Kiss me or kick me. Have you decided?”
That was probably the last thing she expected him to say.
Sherlock slowly stood and took the two steps to stand next to her bed, then looked down at her with the barest hint of a confident smile on his lips. “I know which I’d prefer; but I would need to make sure you weren’t doing it because you felt the need to pay me back for tonight.”
Her jaw fell open, then snapped shut when she realized she must look ridiculous.
“Which is it, Molly?”
As if there was any real choice.
She reached up to grab a handful of his shirt and yanked him down to the bed next to her. “Planned that out in advance, didn’t you?”
“Might have. It worked though, didn’t it?” He smirked as he leaned in to kiss her.
“We’ll see. I’m still considering leaving the kicking option open.”
“Noted.”