I Have A Violin At Home - Tumblr Posts
Hello there. I am craving some cute and romantic Moriarty the Patriot imagines since I just joined the fandom. How about one where the reader (female) is singing and Sherlock hears her and start singing along? That would be absolutely amazing. Thank you. :)
VIVACE
Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!
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Fandom: Moriarty the Patriot
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female!Reader (Could be seen as gender-neutral)
I’m tweaking it a tiny bit; I hope that’s okay! This idea just flowed a whole lot better.
The violin piece referenced in this is Bach’s Concerto for Two Violins in D Minor, 1. Vivace
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Finally.
No one was home, and you could practice in peace. You might’ve lived in the room next door and paid rent to Miss Hudson, but the tenants of 221B Baker Street caused enough racket as it was. But now they were all gone.
Miss Hudson was out grocery shopping, Mr. Watson and Mr. Holmes were out on a case, it left you the perfect time to play. In excitement, you knelt and opened your violin case, taking a moment to stare at the beautiful instrument.
But you had to hurry if you wanted time to practice without Mr. Holmes shooting holes in the wall next to your apartment, that is. So, quickly picking up your beloved instrument, you put the shoulder rest on, put it to your shoulder, and held it between your shoulder and your neck while you tightened the bow hairs of your bow.
Setting the bow to your strings, you closed your eyes and began to play.
A few measures in, you heard something.
Another violin playing?
And the accompanying part to the piece you were playing no less.
With a frown, you stepped towards your open window and peeked out, still playing your violin.
It came from 221B next door.
Was it Mr. Holmes? You vaguely remembered Miss Hudson mentioning he could play, and there were some nights when you couldn’t sleep that you would hear melancholic playing of the violin. Finally, the piece came to an end, and it went quiet. There was some quiet talking from the apartment next door and then footsteps. Was someone coming over?
A knock at the door. You bristled and went to the door, tucking the violin under your arm and opening the door.
Sherlock Holmes stood before you, his own violin tucked under his arm and his other carrying his bow. He was avoiding your eyes, starings stubbornly at his shoes.
“Can I help you, Mr. Holmes?” You asked, and he chewed his lip, eyes drifting to the ceiling and still not looking at you.
“Well, I was wondering if… Well… If you’d like to play together again. You aren’t bad for a violinist.” He said the last part was under his breath. You ignored the jab at your violin skills and smiled.
“I’d love that. Would you like to come in for some tea?”
And the rest was history.
