You let out a pleasing sigh as you were able to reside in your bed after a long day.
You shared the small apartment at 221B Baker Street with John and Sherlock after announcing that Mrs. Hudson was the one grandmother that you had not seen since you were twelve years old.
You occupied the spare room, feeling relieved that you had a room to yourself.
Hurriedly you changed into your pyjama's and dived into your cosy double bed with thick blankets that felt like they were stuffed with clouds.
You flicked the switch to awaken your lamp that rested upon your wooden bedside table, that also had a glass of water from the previous night that probably tasted disgusting and warm.
You had to remind yourself not to take a sip of it.
You left your lamp on as you cozied into your bed and the feeling of the warm duvet and plush pillows.
The light dimly lit the room with a nice orange glow that you had grown to over the past few weeks.
You shut your eyes and readied yourself to drift off into a soothing sleep but were disturbed by the sound of your door creaking open painfully slowly.
You opened one of your (e/c) eyes to find the tall slender physique of the famous consulting detective at your door way. He was in his usual pyjamas with his blue silk dressing gown protecting them.
"Sherlock?" You asked, sitting up slowly. You grew more tired the longer your stayed awake and all you wanted to do was sleep.
"Your light was still on, I just wanted to check if you were alright. It's getting late."
You checked the digital clock that resided beside your lamp, the red numbers glowing 2:30 AM. It was later than you thought.
"I'm sorry Sherlock, you can go to bed. I'm fine." You sleepily smiled.
He nods. "Okay, goodnight."
He was about to pirouette to leave the room when he stopped.
"I've uh, I'm noticed something."
You groaned. All you wanted to do was sleep and Sherlock standing there ready to blurt out an observation he had made wasn't getting you any closer.
"And what's that?" You tried your best to restrain your irritation and sound decently interested.
Sherlock made his way fully into your room, closing the door behind him.
"Every night, you leave your light on. And it's remains on until you awake the next day."
You titled your head a little, intrigued as to where he was going with this.
"I thought, at first, that maybe you had forgotten to switch it off but you're that type of person that freaks out if you believe that you've left the stove on and have to rush back home to make sure you didn't."
"Are you scared of the dark?"
You ran your tongue across your lips out of habit, too embarrassed to confess the truth to the great Sherlock Holmes.
"A little..I suppose."
He raised his eyebrow at you as though he could see your façade.
"Okay a lot. I always have been, ever since I was little. It's never really been a fear I grew out of. I'm scared of what I can't see and the fact that something could be lurking in the dark and using it to it's advantage and then strike when it thinks the moments right."
Sherlock sighed and you prepared yourself for him to ridicule you for your silly little fear that children at the age of five grow out of.
You opened your mouth to speak again but Sherlock raised his hand to you to stop you.
"I'll be right back." Sherlock left the room, leaving you confused and tired.
You would've fallen asleep if you weren't so curious as to what he was planning.
It wasn't long before he returned, carrying a bunch of wires in his arms.
"What are those?" You laughed at the smug look that had appeared on his face.
"Yes, fairy lights." He sighed happily and began attaching them to the walls of your room.
It was odd seeing Sherlock act like this. You were surprised he hadn't forced you to get out of bed and help him or shove the lights into your arms and let you get on with it.
He was always considerate when he wanted to be.
It took him around 20 minutes to finish attaching them to the walls and connect them to a socket.
"Turn off the light." He signalled to you, holding the remote to the lights in his hand.
You did as he asked and switch the light off that was swiftly replaced with the shimmering blue glow of the fairy lights.
It was pretty, you had to admit. It was something you personally would never have come up with.
Sherlock looked satisfied with his handy work and strolled over to your bed, setting the remote onto your bedside table.
He smiled at you as your eyes remained on the lights, watching them twinkle against the darkness and lighting the darkest corners of your room.
"No you don't have to be so afraid anymore." He whispered.
You smiled at him. "Thank you Sherlock."
His smile grew. "You're welcome (Y/N)." He lay a kiss on top of your forehead before pulling the duvet up to your chest. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight Sherlock." You sleepily mumbled.