You had just woken up to a loud banging coming from the kitchen. A lot of thoughts raced through your head, mainly of someone breaking in, but as you tried waking Sherlock up and finding his usual side of the bed empty, you realized it must be him. Slipping on one of Sherlock’s dress shirts and buttoning it up, you weren’t prepared to face what was going on in the kitchen. As you exited the bedroom you saw Sherlock frozen like a deer in the headlights, brandishing a knife with red splatter on his grey shirt and light blue pajama bottoms. His curls were messy and you saw specks of flour and batter clumped on a few strands and his face smothered in flour. A small giggle escaped your lips as you walked up to him, picked up a napkin, and wiped the flour and dough off his face.
“Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you just did.”
“I swear this isn’t blood, it’s cherries.”
You walked up to him and picked off a piece of cherry from his apron. “It looks like you decided to murder the Pillsbury dough boy.”
You placed a quick kiss on his lips. Sherlock smiled, blushed lightly and shook his head. He mumbled something under his breath but you didn’t catch what he said.
“What was that?” You grinned.
He sighed, “I tried to make you breakfast. Mrs. Hudson said you liked these pastries with cherries in them. We didn’t have any filling so I thought I’d make some which led to all this.” He motioned to his cherry covered clothes. You laughed and felt your heart flutter. After being together for almost three years, he still had a way to make you feel like a love-struck teenager.
Picking out a clump of batter from his hair, you scrunched up your nose. “Alright, since channeling your inner Mary Berry isn’t your thing, how about you clean up this mess, and yourself, and we go out to get some breakfast instead. We can go to the cafe that you like near Regent’s Park and afterward we can stop by Lestrade’s office to see if he has any cases for you. How does that sound?”
You looked at him with a raised eyebrow when Sherlock didn’t respond. The blank look on his face told you he was thinking, and thinking hard. You could practically hear the cogs whirring in his mind.
Sherlock stared at you for a few seconds. Many things swirled through his mind as the words left his lips. His heart pounded quickly in his chest, his palms began to get clammy and he felt extremely nervous.
You didn’t say anything. His words caught you off guard and you weren’t sure if you had heard him right. “What?”
Sherlock swallowed a large lump that formed in his throat. He grabbed your hand, raised it up to his lips and gently placed a kiss on your palm. “Marry me, (Y/N). I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. No one understands me the way you do. John tries his best, but you outdo him in so many ways. I know I’m not the easiest man to live with, but you put up with me and I don’t think I will ever find anyone in the world like you. I love you very much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as Sherlock spoke. You could hear the sincerity in his voice and see the love in his eyes. Your heart pounded behind your chest a million miles per second. “I don’t even have a ring,” you managed to choke out.
Sherlock’s eyes widened and he let go of your hand and shot to the living room, digging through drawers and throwing things around in search of a ring. You watched as he made the living room and mess with a big smile forming on your lips, this was the man you were in love with.
He eventually found what he was looking for after making a giant mess in his wake. He straightened out his messy clothes, smoothed out his wild curls and walked towards you with a smile on his face and got down on one knee. He opened the small blue box that was in his hand and opened it to reveal a beautiful ring.
Sherlock took a deep breathe and looked up at you.
“(Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?”
“Yes!” You cried out and tackled him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting the tears fall from your eyes in happiness. Sherlock kissed your lips and pulled away. You held up your left hand and he slid the ring on your finger. A new wave of tears welled up in your eyes as the diamond happily gleamed against the rays of sunlight that shined through the open windows. Facing Sherlock, you cupped his cheek and kissed him once more.
“You still have flour on your face.”