JoelleHazelEyes

I had never paid much attention to the bracelet on my wrist that was one with my skin. Every one had one; it was just another part of life. Some people paid more attention to it than others, but I had never really cared. What it stood for was never a focal point in my life. I guess I should explain these bracelets. Everyone is given one of these bracelets at birth, and it becomes a part of you. It's very small, barely noticeable, just a small screen with Four sections: days, hours, minutes and seconds. These will count down the days, then minutes and seconds, until you meet your "Soul Mate". The moment that happens, the bracelet disappear

"Soooo booorrreeedddddd....." I groan into my empty, listening house. I've cleaned the entire place, I've done laundry, I tried to organize my office, and I'm still bored. Pinterest and Tumblr got old after three hours. So now I'm hanging upside down off my couch, giving in to the childish whim of whining/groaning "I'm soooo boooorrredddddd...." "Knock knock?" I scramble up from my undignified position and run to the door. Ben is on the other side of my screen door, arms laden with boxes. "I thought you worked today!" I say as I help him in, taking a few boxes. He rewards me with a kiss and grins "nope, I got today off, and I figured

"you know, I was just thinking, about how we met...it was Sherlock who introduced us, you know." "Oh yes," Mary laughed. "He wanted you to get some obscure body parts...I cant remember what they were...he got you into coming because he thought you'd find me attractive." "Well I did." John replied, with a slow grin. Mary shook her head, laughing. "I know, I know, I'm such a beauty you just had to have me." John became serious and said quietly "You're so much more than that, you know." It was true. He had become interested in her after seeing her the first time - her stunning blue eyes and wavy brown hair had captured him immediately. But afte

Sherlock and Molly texts~ * Molly's text signature ( ~Molly

The house shook as the front door slammed, and the angry footsteps of a twelve year old boy pounded up the stairs. Mycroft didn't even look up from his book as his little brother stormed into their own special sitting room and flung himself onto the couch, facing away from the room and curling his knees in toward his chest. Mycroft didn't bother to break the silence with a question. It would not have been rewarded with an answer yet anyway. So he waited - he knew Sherlock would start talking about what happened as soon as he felt like it- which could be in ten minutes or two hours. So they both stayed silent- one placid and waiting, the ot

Mind palace- dreams "Darling?" I keep my eyes closed as that voice fills my head. Can I open them to face a phantom? Can I open them to face a life that is not, and will never be? I feel a tear fight it's way past my eyelid and I know my battle  is a losing one. He'll see the tear- he'll know I'm awake- he'll know why I'm crying. I begin to open my eyes but stop as I feel him lie down beside me. I'm still under the covers- he's on top of them. He curves his body to match mine and wraps his arm around my waist; I can feel his face pressed against my neck- his warm breath. "Love...." A sob breaks through the barriers of my lips that I fou

"What are you wearing?" I'm sorry I'm so blunt but sometimes.... As much as I love this man, some days, I swear, he dresses himself with his eyes closed. "What?" He says, sheepishly, awkwardly, protestingly and adorably all at once. Yes if you're wondering, I died. Are you keeping count? Cuz I totally lost count a few months ago. "You know I'm not good at this," he says defensively. I giggle "Benny, really, we've been over this, love- ugh, it's that!" I point. He looks down. "What?! I'm wearing a shirt, a jacket, a scarf and pants! What do you want from me?!" "I'd love it if you'd get rid of that scarf." He was wearing this tacky black