Word Count: 905

Pairings: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Warnings: slight angst

A/N: Request from __3rR0r__Prequel to 'Love is Blind'

Summary: Being friends with the high functioning sociopathic detective wasn't without it's challenges. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it. Rather he was a breath of fresh air to your  repetitive life.

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Your fingers ran along the textured wall as you walked up the stairs to the flat. The familiar smell of chemicals drifted through the air. You reached the top of the stairs and held the door frame as you walked inside. Shrugging your bag off your shoulder you went to set it on the little side table that was usually by the door. However, when you heard your bag hit the floor you frowned a little.

"Sherlock?" You called out into the flat.

"Just a moment." His voice sounded faint.

You realized he must be in another room and you took a few cautious steps forward.

"Did you move things around again?"

"Yes, did you notice already? That was even sooner than last time."

Sherlock, unlike most people, didn't treat you like glass after learning you were blind. In fact, the consultant detective seemed a little to interested about that. He was constantly looking for new ways to do what he called 'range experiments' with you. Not that you minded, in truth you liked the unpredictability he brought into your life.

"You moved the table this time." You pointed out.

You heard footsteps and turned your head in the direction of the noise. You heard someone pick your bag up off the floor, sitting somewhere else.

"Oh that, no, I broke that last week." Sherlock said.

You heard him tapping away on his phone, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Broke it? How did you do that?"

Sherlock momentarily paused hid texting, looking up at you for a second.

"I was bored."

That ended that line of questioning, and it was explanation enough.

"Ok, so why am I here? I was on the other side of London."

"Why?"

"I was at my doctor's, there's a new surgery, they said it might restore my eyesight." You shrugged.

Sherlock moved away from you but you knew he was still listening.

"Might? That doesn't sound like a very reassuring percentage."

You smiled shaking your head, as you took a few cautious steps around the room.

"I know, just entertaining the thought, I'm not actually going to do it." You shrugged.

You kneed the table, letting out a muffled curse when you heard a cup crash to the ground.

"Well if you're not going to do it then, why waste your time with a meaningless doctor's appointment." Sherlock muttered.

You laughed lightly and shook your head.

"It's an emotional thing Sherlock, it's called hope, most people have it."

He scoffed and slipped his phone into his pocket.

"Sounds dull."

You just shook your head and took a tried to move away from the table. Unfortunately the cup you had knocked over must have had something in it because you slipped on the suddenly wet floor. Sherlock heard the loud thud, and he hurried from the kitchen just in time to see you sit up. You held one of your legs, blood rolling down your leg from the deep cut on your knee.

"Is it bad." You asked.

"Yes."

You looked up, turning your head in the direction of his voice.

"You're supposed to say no Sherlock." You muttered.

You let out a squeak when he suddenly lifted you into his arms.

"Oh yes, because lying makes it all better." He said sarcastically.

He sat you down on a chair, when you felt the leather under your fingertips you immediately knew it was his chair.

"Don't move, blood is such a pain to get out of carpet." He said.

You sat on the chair listening to him rummage through cupboards in the kitchen before returning.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm stitching your knee."

You jerked away slightly.

"It needs stitches?"

Sherlock was kneeling on the ground in front of you and he looked up at your slightly frightened expression.

"I thought you were finding a more competent doctor." Sherlock said.

He was trying to distract you and by the way you relaxed a little it was working.

"You think every doctor is incompetent Sherlock." You teased.

"I think they're idiotic." He corrected you.

You flinched when you felt a needle piercing, your skin.

"I thought you were looking for a flatmate." You said.

"I am."

Realizing that was all you were getting from him, you smiled and let him finish stitching your cut closed. When he was done he stood, dusting off his pants.

"I should have kept a better eye on you, you were always rather clumsy even for a blind person." Sherlock sighed.

You raised an eyebrow, looking a him surprised.

"Sherlock Holmes are you apologizing?" You gasped.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm merely pointing out that I should have paid more attention during this experiment." He said.

"Of course." You agreed, not believing him for a moment.

You grabbed his hand, pulling him down to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you."