The coward does it with a kiss
I'm back here with a new trifle: I state at once that it is not so betata is likely approaching a monstrosity ... I expect the launch of the tomatoes and meanwhile I'm going to hide.
Pairing: Holmes / Watson
Raiting: Pg 13
Genre: Angst, romantic
The coward does it with a kiss
''And each man kills the thing he loves, what
This I feel everyone who does
with a bitter look, some with a flattering
E,
The coward does it with a kiss, The brave
, with the sword!
.... because all they kill the thing they love, after
Although not all die.''
The Ballad of Reading Gaol. Oscar Wilde
Last way in which I might call Sherlock Holmes is a coward.
Coward is a term that is not well adapted to his person. Perhaps it is simply my own lack of lexical inadequacy, or perhaps difficulties in finding suitable synonym for, classify Holmes with an epithet like that would be like taking an oath, but sometimes a coward is the only adjective that I can approach to his person.
Sherlock Holmes is the most courageous and fearless man I know: in his surveys show a presence of mind unmatched, but when it is in close contact with his emotions to become a coward. E di una codardia che cerca di nascondere, dietro quella sua tipica maschera di contegno e indifferenza.
In realtà non ne ho mai compreso davvero il motivo: suppongo si sia sempre trattato di orgoglio, superiorità, il desiderio di dimostrarsi immune ai suoi stessi sentimenti, quando in realtà si trovava a celarli dentro.
Si rifiutava di mostrare i suoi più reconditi desideri, con la paura di esserne travolto mentre in realtà, per quanto cercasse di nasconderli, questi rimanevano sempre in una parte della sua anima, e lui ne era sopraffatto.
Codardo.
Perchè ho sempre ritenuto tale, chi non affronta il proprio cuore.
Il testo che I soon to tell is not given to publishing, for obvious reasons, but it is a recoconto I write a personal level, so as to impress upon the memory card without the risk of entrusting the details to my memory of man, As we know, is fleeting and fragile, designed to disperse over time. Although in all honesty, I doubt I'll ever forget that day.
The facts that I am going to relate back to 'winter of 1888, before my marriage with Miss Morstan, by which time I was officially engaged.
I remember everything perfectly, even though many years have passed now since that day. Holmes was closed in one of his typical silence, he kept his eyes fixed on a table somewhere, fingers fumbling with his skillful experiments in chemistry and did not bother either of my presence. There
I was disappointed.
I knew that I would have welcomed the news but I had hoped that, despite his cold and indifferent nature, to understand and accept my upcoming marriage to Mary.
''Miss Morstan is a 'charming girl, even if you do not approve of his choice I think the lady is the best person with whom to start a family''in his voice there was a hint of something that does not I could give a specific name ... resentment, perhaps. In fact
said I did not expect this. I had seemed obvious phrases, circumstance, sentences handed down to a faith 'expectations, but they were not sincere.
Since Mary had told him that I had the honor to accept me as her husband, Holmes's face, thin, sharp and always crossed by a vein of cynicism, it was hidden behind a mask of coldness and detachment.
That coolness and detachment that until your indisiderate, and with whom he had never looked at me.
his faithful Boswell.
His partner in adventure.
His friend.
''Holmes?''Did not look up at me and continued to devote his attention to experiments in chemistry, on the table, as if he was deaf to my voice.
''Holmes?
''''I feel''his voice was unnaturally cold and there were traces a growing irritation. I knew that his peremptory tone: it was anger, anger that grew inside him, ready to esplondere unexpectedly and completely unnatural.
I was never able to really get used to its concept of anger: my brain tends to associate with that word, uncontrollable anger and frantic gestures, while all this was not the case in Holmes. His gaze was fixed, thin eyebrows arched slightly and maintained a tone of voice seemingly oblivious. But I know him well, and I knew seeing that vein irritation in his voice.
Holmes was angry. Mary
''Why do you hate so much?''''Do not say
s silly''snorted, annoyed by how my mind so dull, exasperated by my logical limits. ''I have nothing against Miss Morstan: it is a brilliant and very intelligent girl and I am not exaggerating when I say that for the case of the Treasure of Agra, has proved worthy of respect and attention''''So what
'is the problem, Holmes?''remained silent, continuing to devote his attention to one of his delicate Bunsen burners from which thick smoke was rising and reddish. Expected, but my colleague did not seem willing to utter a word, and in all honesty, I did not need its admissions I had hoped to hear him say something about it ... not that I really need, I just wanted to hear me say it, because sometimes it's nice to know someone to count on.
But Sherlock Holmes was not the kind of person from whom to expect this sort of thing and we had to limit it to sharpen the view and observe those simple gestures and Platel, who chanted his everyday life and links together our coexistence.
''I do for you''I said suddenly, moved by who knows what will and immediately regretted it: I saw the pale hand of Holmes hang in midair, with a tube between long fingers, and when he turned to me, gave me one of his worst angry expressions.
''I do not think I ever asked to marry the Morstan
''''I had to do HOLMES! And you know it!''I shouted, leaving my voice gentle and quiet and close to the worn table experiments, crossed his eyes gray.
''I had to do it ... and I did it for you ...''''
Sure Doctor, she is the victim who is sacrificed in the name of honor and reputation ' 'in his tone of voice, in addition to the anger I hear even a slight hint of sarcasm, irony that he always used when he was particularly annoyed.
I did not understand how he could not appreciate what I was doing, I would have married against my will in order to save his reputation and the silence that had spread malicious rumors about us, yet he could not understand, or perhaps more probably refused.
The situation was quite simple: one afternoon, seeing with Mr. Doyle, our literary agent, I was informed that a very embarrassing thing that concerned voices rather than indecent and insinuating about me and my friend Holmes.
''I hope you are joking,''Arthur I said in front of a cup of tea, and my friend Doyle in response, I had set out the facts. As I said, a group of admirers, all gentilsignore of good family and well-educated literally had widespread nature of the writings of scandalous and indecent about my relationship with Holmes. It seemed they were so well told, from the risk of being confused with the original manuscripts of the author, had it not been for the revised description of our relationship.
''I confess to being somewhat irritated,''he mumbled the quiet John Doyle, taking a little mustache to curl with the index finger and thumb, demonstrates a clear cover.
''I do not like this thing is described, and when I decided to publish his manuscripts did not imagine that such a problem arose. For items that are not now, but if they persist, and newspapers were in the know, would be my ruin''sighed and looked really worried, a prey to anxiety. My
''ruin''shooting''and''yours also knew what he was referring: actually my reputation and that of Holmes were due mainly to the great success he had enjoyed the first novel,''A study published in red.'' Before our meeting with Mr.Doyle we were not more than a normal military doctor, a veteran of the Afghan campaign and a consultant investigating virtually unknown.
''You are still my characters are literal and do not want you to paint as two sodomites''Arthur was very upset and all of its expression, the continuous enrichment of the mustache arched eyebrows, suggesting an increasing state of irritation. It struck me that Holmes was talking to me and to defining its literary creatures, and for a brief moment, I feel like a character ink born from the imagination of some creative writer. Arthur
''I'm sorry, I can ... to ensure that they are only rumors insinuating''swear I avoided because, as I was lying, I would have to swear falsely.
''What should I do?''I asked, trying to hide my apprehension. Doyle ended
to sip her cup of tea, then I said quietly, regaining his typical expression that a bit 'gruff.
''Nothing, however irritating, we can not intervene in any way. You just hope that those young ladies you so passionate, you decide to stop painting as two perverts''
So it was all started.
I had felt the need to get married but the idea of Holmes and jeopardize its reputation terrified me. For nothing in the world I wish I was because of his ruin, and so I found myself increasingly thinking about a way to appease the gossip.
was a meeting with Mary made me decide to make real the idea did not love her, but the blonde and delicate next to me gave an idea of respectability and security that even the most perverse and mischievous men would dare to contradict. Suggested a concept of purity and innocence, perfect to conceal my guilt and silence the gossips.
Actually I did it especially for Holmes, who I thought would understand, but most would accept that. He knew perfectly well that for him I would have taken a bullet in the chest and my decision was no less painful than a shot revolver. And instead
his expression had become cold and detached, while in his voice I could hear the discordant note of irritation; maybe I should have known, I most likely to news like that I would react in exactly the same way, but even so, I could not excuse him. It was unthinkable that he preferred to be tarnished by a scandal rather than see me next to a person who was not him.
Selfish.
Egocentric.
I had always been.
not mean anything''weak''I muttered, but trying to put emphasis in those few words and I laid a hand on his shoulder, he dodged badly rattling the precious stills on his desk.
''Go away''his voice made me shiver.
''Stop talking with such formality; I felt that now there rivolgessimo with more confidence.''was the way he talked to really bother me, treated me like an unwelcome sconusciuto and this seemed an act of great discourtesy.
''You're not the man I knew. And as such is alien to me I want nothing to do with her,''I think I'm a man accustomed to suffering, whether physical or moral, in a few moments I thought about how bad I had spent more in life, but I could not find anything that would be comparable to the effect that those words had on me.
still did not know that would be echoed in my mind for years, the wear of guilt. It would
been better if he had not uttered a word.
''I do not think I've ever known anyone more stubborn and arrogant of you! I want to listen?''''
I am doing, and let me tell you doctor that the content of these speeches is very poor
''''Why do not you understand?''I asked, ignoring the ' lexical fact that I had just done, and began to talk about''I did it to avoid a scandal that overwhelm us.''''
kind of you, but unnecessary since no one had they asked''snapped annoyed and stood up.
Only I could boast of having seen the face of Sherlock Holmes, any kind of expression: an unnatural but knew his typical cool, but I could also swear I saw a well-secret happiness, but now I could see on his face thin, but made an explosive anger.
''There are rumors going around and do not want to risk a scandal, it is dangerous to Holmes. The Labouchere Amendment punishes with imprisonment, the acts of sodomy
''''I see that now begins to give me lessons in British law''proclaimed irreverent and I could not help myself dall'alzare eyes to the ceiling, exasperated.
''I thought you might appreciate what I'm doing ... a man like you should know risks of this company, and understand that we are going against the law and morality
''''I did not think she cared much about the morality, once had no such problems
''''Do not be vulgar I picked it up''and he gave me his back turned to the window.
''You say that nothing will change between us, but despite this he married Mary. I do not know how will he face his wife, Doctor''that was the thing that tortured me, and of course Holmes had the opportunity to put in front of my guilt and make me feel like the most abject of this land. Why
when he did not know what to do, became cruel. The idea of deceiving
Mary, so kind and pure, made me feel sick: she did not deserve a husband like me, who shared with another person oltrettutto-so-wrong and betrayed. Because even if you did not love her, she felt for a sincere affection, which led me to choose it as the best person with whom to share life and did not want them wrong so bad.
''You know it's a cover ... means nothing,''will remain the same as before I tried again, hoping to see it react Holmes and he moved towards me with surprising agility; I felt his body exerts pressure against the wall behind me and I found myself stuck with the wrists from his grasp and cold iron, his pale face only inches from mine.
''It's actually my fault,''her voice came out as a low growl and angry and I was surprised, because in all our years of living I had never heard of blaming something.
''I trusted too much about her, I allowed to know too far and she has betrayed my trust
''''Stop treating me with this formal tone
''''And why should I?''Breathed ; to bottom, as if trying to control himself then he raised the his gray eyes on me''I can be content if you want, but it is still a stranger to me. And you should know that I do not trust strangers
''''Mary''I do not like him and just whispered, with great effort, I looked into his eyes, hoping that he could read the truth. He was a true genius when it came to make room in the human minds to grasp revealing details ... I hoped that this time does not contradict.
''Then why marry her?''''
I've already said
''''Tell me again
''''You just want to hear you complain to humiliate
''''Probably. So what?''I tried to ignore that his tone and heartened enough by the fact that he started to talk with confidentially, I hoped to be close to a positive resolution.
''I do not want to see you behind the bars of a prison,''I was not able to say more: as I was prone to sentimentality, I could not tell everything Holmes thought because I was too afraid of being considered a romantic fool. Despite this, there was not an ounce of deceit in what I said, as respected my girlfriend, each time I approached her I was thinking about Holmes. I knew I would have hated me but not to think about taxation and would ignore the resentment felt towards me, I had to go on with my messainscena. That
messainscena seemingly cruel, would have saved his reputation and I did not care if I had hated. If it was for him, I could bear.
''I'm sorry ...
''sorry''I do not do anything about your excuses''he snapped, prey to a growing anger and his grip on my wrists and made it more intense, until it hurt. You let me down
''Watson''''
''''I'm sorry I never want to see''those words were spoken with an atrocious posting that made me want to be able to relive all the pain in my past life, certainty that I would suffer less. Please
''Holmes''Get
...''''
''Listen to me a good time.''Managed to break free of his grasp and grabbed the sleeves, feeling the fabric of the shirt under his arm, thin and muscular, but I was not able to utter a word as he kissed me with violence , maggiormanete crushing them against the wall.
And for the umpteenth time, I destroyed it.
still consider that his kiss, a gesture of incredible cowardice, he could hear, understand, and instead preferred to destroy me in the only way he could.
loving.
It was not anything like what I was used to: it was not the gentle kiss of two lovers, neither the passionate and hasty moved by the desire of two lovers, but if it was something that had the ferocity, as if it contained all his anger and disappointment.
I certainly would have hated for the rest of his life.
It would be good.
I clung to him, shaking his shoulders in his hands with a desperate fear. Fear that I might lose him, he could not forgive me ... afraid to have it all wrong.
When we parted we were both out of breath, my face still all the fear and confusion that kiss angry that he had left inside me, while Holmes raised his hands towards my face and the backs of my fingers touched the cheekbone.
''Please''Holmes''Get out, do not want you here ... not now at least''his expression hard and his cold voice contrasted sharply with his gesture. That his hand on my face seemed to trace the contours of my profile while his eyes, hidden by the coldness, seemed to shout at me to stay with him.
''Go away''he said again and immediately lowered his head, so he could not see his expression as he walked away giving me his back again. When I no longer heard his body against mine, a painful pang of deprivation gripped me.
''Try to understand.''I tried again, hoping that his gesture had made him more inclined to listen to me, but it did not.
I understand'': that is why I ask you to leave''but I did not move, unable to take even one step out of his life.
''Please ... go away''in all honesty were the words move. Holmes had never asked anyone because he was too proud and proud to stoop to make a similar gesture and in order not to force him to do so, I left.
As soon as I found myself out of the room but do not wish to have back my old life.
I hoped that it was too late.
''And each man kills the thing he loves ...
The coward does it with a kiss ...''
End
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