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━︎━︎ THE RETURN OF WILLIAM BROWNING

. . .

Sherlock Holmes walked through the post-press building, making his way past the people who stood in the quite narrow hallway filled with couched pushed towards the cream walls, arrogance could be detected with every proud step he took.

His head was held high with pride as his shoes clanked against the tiled floor of the room, echoing every time his heel hit the floor.

"Sir — " the man at the front desk said, sticking his arm out slightly to stop the famous Sherlock from entering the rooms behind the counter.

"Don't be ridiculous." He cut in, holding a hand up in front of the mans face, not stopping for a split second to hesitate on his walk to the press behind the counter.

"Lestrade?" Sherlock called out in a quiet tone as he walked through the rooms, working men looking at him with confusion.

"Ah. . . Sherlock Holmes." Lestrade said from behind the brown-haired man — who turned around, a brow raised as he faced the man behind him.

"We meet again." He said, his posture straight as a pole.

"Please." Lestrade said, showing Sherlock to his office. "You've been building quite a reputation for yourself." The man said, sitting behind his desk as Sherlock stood, looking out of the window. "Despite your best efforts to avoid the press —"

"The marquess case." Sherlock cut in, turning around to look at the man sitting behind his desk with no facial expression what so ever. "You need to arrest his grandmother, the Dowager. She's trying to kill him, as she killed his father and the Ainsley boy."

"Three questions." Lestrade said after a moment, looking down at his fingers before back up at Sherlock. "How did you arrive to the conclusion?"

Sherlock sighed before turning around as he began to explain how he had uncovered the mystery of the missing marquess, taking a seat on an elegant leather couch in the room, the low heel of his shoe hitting the hardwood floor once in a while and Lestrade nodding along to the story ever so often.

As Lestrade asked another question, Sherlock answered it with accuracy to the situation as the man put his arms on the desk.

"What about the Ainsley boy?"

"The Rubin ring case." Sherlock said, a proud smirk on his face as Lestrade nodded in remembrance of the case that almost took a year to solve. "Anne Ainsley had stolen the ring from the Tewkesbury's, leading the Dowager into murdering their legacy because of an heirloom. I found the Dowager's — not so hidden — plans, and they were quite. . . interesting, I must say. Which leads to the second thing"

"Which is?"

"To clear Edith Ainsley's name." Sherlock said to which Lestrade hummed in answer before Sherlock added as he stood up "immediately."

As Sherlock was about to exit the office the man behind the desk asked, turning his head slightly to the side "how did your sister get here before ya?" He asked with amusement written on his face as Sherlock's smirk fell and he blinked in answer.

"I'm sorry?"

. . .

"Will you stay still for one moment?" Edith asked as she looked over the painted canvas in her dark blue dress, looking at the boy who was posing on one of the brown couches in her Atelier.

A few month had passed since the girl's name had finally been cleared of all charges. The news had been displayed in the local newspapers and all posters had been taken down.

And to say Edith Ainsley was one of the happiest people on earth was a understatement.

Her life had started to run smoothly, she had inherited a small house — due to her name clearing — in a humble village close to the whereabouts of Basilwether.

"We've been here for hours, Eddie!" Tewkesbury wined as he started to shift in his position again.

"Stop!" Edith exclaimed with a laugh and a smile on her face. "We've been her for barely an hour, Flower boy."

"Well. . .there is one way you could make me stop." Tewkesbury said, a smirk playing on his face.

"Oh no." Edith said as she dropped her paintbrush onto the wooden easel.

"You could give me a kiss." Tewkesbury said cheekily as he made a kissy face with his lips, shutting his eyes close and sticking his face up slightly.

Edith thought for a moment as she stood there watching him shuffle around on the couch with her arms crossed around her waist.

"Fine." She gave in and begun to walk towards Tewkesbury — who's face immediately lit up from joy — , but not before picking something up.

Edith leaned her body over his, about to press a small kiss onto his lips as he shut his eyes, but instead she moved her hand from behind her back, swiping her paintbrush against his face, creating a dark blue line of paint on his check.

"Hey!" Tewkesbury called out to her as the girl begun to quickly walk away with a laugh. He pushed himself off of the couch, chasing after her as she started to run around the room.

The tow continued to chase each other around atelier until Tewkesbury managed to catch up with the girl and pick her up only to spin her around in the air with a laugh.

"Let me down, you idiot!" Edith said as more of a command while hitting his arm with her hand, trying to make him let go of her.

The boy put her down carefully, towering over her as he started into her ocean eyes, the both of them having goofy grins plastered in their faces as Edith swiped her thumb against his cheek, smudging the paint more than it already was.

Slowly, she stood on her toes, closing the gap between them and both of them closing their eyes as their lips moved again the others. The feeling of his soft lips against hers could never bore her as his arms snaked around her waist and her arms subconsciously found their way to around his neck.

Edith felt his finger travel up her spine, leaving a shiver behind as Tewkesbury pulled away with a smirk. The girl rolled her eyes and with a small smile, she turned around to walk back to the canvas, but she felt his arm wrap around her hand, pulling her back gently.

"How are you doing, you know, after everything?" Tewkesbury asked once he moved his head to face hers.

"You ask me this every other day, but I'm doing fine." She replied faking a small smile, but he saw through it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tewkesbury asked after a moment of silence as guilt stirred in her stomach and she looked down at her feet, thinking of what to answer.

"No, but thank you." Edith said, looking back up as she played with her thumbs.

"Whenever you're ready — "

"I'll talk about it one day, Tewkesbury. Today's just not the day." Edith said as she stared into his eyes. "Can we get back to this painting now?"

"Yes. Yes, sure." Tewkesbury answered with a wide smile, watching her walk up to the canvas after he had let her go from his arms.

Tewkesbury took large and quick steps towards the couch where he laid down in a different position — that didn't match the original position he had been placed in by one bit — as Edith sighed, shaking her head. "What?!"

"You're an idiot, Flower boy." Edith said, walking slowly as she stood in front of the couch, a smile displayed on her face.

"And you're beautiful, Edith Ainsley." He said as she rolled her eyes and looking back down at him.

But instead of walking away they locked eyes and lost theirselves in a trance before he pulled her onto the couch with him, earning a small laugh from her — which he returned.

She lay beside him, her side cuddled into his chest, listening to his soothing heartbeat as she closed her eyes, wanting to stay in the safe arms of her loved one forever.

"I need to leave soon." He said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as his arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer.

"I know." Edith said, slowly tracing patterns with her finger on his shoulder.

As Edith felt her eyes shut close and her breath steadying she couldn't help but think that out of all feeling she would miss this one the most of anything were to ever happen.

Although her thoughts were a mess, right now, falling asleep in his arms felt perfect and she wouldn't give it up for anything,

or so she thought.

But, more importantly, love, what is love?

To someone it could be a simple word that means more than the world and could be discovered in less than a blink of an eye.

But to Edith it was more than that. For her it meant that burning feeling inside you. The intense feeling of deep affection. The eruption of butterflies in your stomach when the latter is around. The care and nurture. The trust and belief. The small romantic and meaningful gestures.

But most importantly: the bond.

The bond between two people that make it so comforting when around each other. The bond that causes conversations to flow naturally, like a waterfall or air through the trees.

Edith thought of her bond, her love and who she felt it for as she dozed off into her world of dreams, but, the only image that came to mind was him. . . Flower boy.

And that was what she was currently feeling as she walked down the stairs of the small house— that had been passed down in generations — after she had woken up from her sleep, finding a small note from Tewkesbury saying that he had to leave in a hurry or else his family wouldn't allow him to leave the house again.

And the words "I love you." At the end, written in black ink and cursive handwriting that was simply pleasant to the eye.

Walking into the kitchen she dropped the note onto the counter with a dreamy sigh and was about to put a kettle of water on when she found that there was already warm water inside.

"Edith Ainsley." A looming voice from behind her said as Edith jumped from the sudden fillage of the silence. "How lovely it is to see you again."

Turning around she saw the one person she never expected to see again. He sat at her table in the shadow, sipping on his tea as he looked Edith straight into the eyes, a look that made uneasy shivers show up on her skin.

"How did you get in?" Edith asked, leaning one hand against the counter to support herself from the shock.

He put his teacup down onto the table, the cup clanked as it hit the small plate that mismatched with the teacup, standing up and revealing his face, his dirty blonde hair was messy — not something you would see usually on men or boys as they all hair it combed to one side — and his lips plump and pink. His eyes bright blue eyes, looking like they were glowing with the sunlight reflecting in them, staring right back at hers.

"Lover boy left the door unlocked." He said as he leaned onto the edge of the table, picking up the teacup and crossing one hand over his chest whilst the other held his tea.

"Of course he did." Edith said, putting her hands on her waist as she looked out of the window, shaking her head slightly as she pursed her lips into a thin line.

"I thought I might let myself in." He said, raising his eyebrows before lowering them.

"You could also see yourself out. Do you need me to show you to the door, William?" Edith said, raising a brow at him.

"I just need one thing." The boy said, putting his tea cup back on the table and slowly walking over to the painting that hung one one of the walls in the kitchen. "A place to stay." He said, his words lingering as a chuckle escaped his lips.

"No" She said with not hesitation, opening the draw from behind her and taking out a medium sized knife in order to protect herself if he was to do anything.

William raised a brow as he turned around to see the girl holding a knife, "don't be ridiculous, put that away. If I was trying to kill you I wouldn't be asking you for something." He said, but Edith didn't move an inch as she tightened her grip on the knife.

"I'm sure you have enough room for two." He said, taking a step forwards, causing Edith to point the knife closer to him as he took a step back.

"Not for you, William." She told him, gulping as she shook her head, her facial features scrunching up.

"Fine." He said as Edith furrowed her eyebrows before watching a smirk grow on the blondes face. "But, of course, you wouldn't want your family to find out your whereabouts." He added, a mischievous chuckle emitting form his mouth.

Knowing this was going nowhere and that his threat was placed, Edith lowered her knife, sucking in a deep breath before sighing and straightening her posture, saying —

"Fine!"

First of all: I would like to say sorry for not updating on Monday. I kinda forgot, oops?

Second thing: tYSM FOR 41K READS KABDUDBJD THIS IS INSANE OMG I LOVE Y'ALL SM JAHSIDJD

Ok and omg this is the end of book 1 the fawk? Am I having a mental breakdown? Yes absolutely!

So if you didn't know yet, I am going to be writing my original interpretation of what happened after the movie ended.

If they do announce an Enola holmes 2 movie I will write another book and tell you guys here!

And finally any theories on who William Browning is? And his last name... does it sound familiar? Any theories for atelier 2??

an arm of a statue hit her head, knocking her out unconscious for a while and she wasn't conscious until after the chapter finished. Very sorry for not clearing that up properly, I do think is wrote it somewhere in the chapter but I'm sorry again :)

Anyways it started snowing and I hate it here 🥶

Love you all, Lennon, until next time!