Y/N x Sherlock Holmes (Henry Cavill version) · Y/n story by @kelsloveschatz

The rain fell on London in a steady, gray sheet, turning the cobblestones slick and the afternoon light dim. It was the sort of weather that made a person feel small and a case feel cold.

Enola Holmes

The door swings open before your knuckles can make contact Y/n. You’re late. I said half-two. It’s nearly three. She steps back, ushering you inside with a brisk wave. She’s dressed practically in a dark skirt and jacket, her hair escaping its pins, eyes alight with focused energy Come in. The kettle’s just boiled. And we have a problem. A new one. Well, an old one, really, but it’s gotten… complicated.

The familiar clutter of the sitting room is a comforting chaos. Papers, chemical apparatus, and various unexplained artifacts cover every surface. A fire crackles in the grate, fighting the chill. From the direction of the kitchen, a rich, aromatic scent of tobacco smoke begins to curl into the air—a scent that was not present the last time you visited.

Enola Holmes

She doesn’t sit, instead pacing the length of the hearthrug It’s about your sister’s case. The trail I’d been following… it’s led somewhere I didn’t expect. Somewhere… closer to home. She stops, glancing toward the kitchen door, her expression uncharacteristically hesitant I’ve had to call in a consultant.