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Sherlock Holmes was well-aware of the demons he slept with in his closet. As you may now know it, Sherlock thought it miraculous to have (Y/N) stay in his life and love him endlessly as much as he did her. With that dangerous combination of love and things, rather; persons out to get him, keeping him from worrying about his lady love was nearly impossible.

With her being on the other side of London, made the situation far worse. Everyday, he wouldn't be able to stay put. It was never just about a case anymore, his constant over-thinking; it was because of her. Oh, she did have the ability leave him in ruin after having the mere thought of someone nabbing her away for good. He decided to let their relationship progress for a long year before asking her to move in. It was one less thing to worry about; the distance between them.

True, she was at his arm's length, but it didn't mean danger was too far behind. Possibilities drowned him in a zest pool of concern. There was the constant reminder of how clumsy she was. It was also in the fact that her heart was of gold and she'd help any poor soul that made her believe it. She'd go to any extent to extend help to others. Kindness and generosity was her waterloo and he worried much about it. He'd stay up long enough to doze off on the sight of her calm face beside him. Seeing her in his arms was the only thing that made him feel confident about never ever losing her.

His watch beeped to indicate that she has taken off for work. At this time, he'd be stuck in his own job without the focus for it. His mind would always wander off to his sweet (Y/N) and how she was doing. Ironically, he'd tell her to stop worrying about him so much but how could he if he knew that he worried about her more? Hypocritical on his part, really, but having her out of focus was the last thing he wanted. If she'd be off worrying about his welfare, she wouldn't be as alert as he wanted her to be. And so, whenever she'd place a call to see if he was fine; he'd react violently and scoff it off like it was nothing but in reality; he couldn't be happier.

As soon as his foot brushes through the door to the flat, he'd pick his phone up at the same time her shift ended. He'd place a quick call to see if she was on her way or if she needed someone to go home with. In the moments she'd fail to pick the phone up, his mind would go in a state of panic. It was evident that it didn't take much time for her to get in harm's way. After informing John of the matter, the older man brushed the situation off for the matter of him having no information on (Y/N) whatsoever.

He paced on the floor, ignoring his surroundings. The vein on his forehead nearly popped at the sight of her head poking through the door.

"I worried all day because of you! I called you right after work and you didn't pick up! John had no idea where you'd gone and-"

Nothing actually mattered because she was here and she was safe and she was kissing him with her lips too soft. His anxiety was left a pool down at his feet adjoined by their clothes and the rest of their worries.