"Molly, for the love of life itself, I beg you to stop staring so intently upon my face." Sherlock said, his lips pursed into a thin, straight line as he looked into a microscope- only barely acknowledging the girl's presence.
"S...s-sorry. I was j-just wondering if maybe... if maybe you wanted some... tea?" She said, her hand shaking as she irritatedly slammed the hot to-go mug of tea next to him on the table. He looked up, for once.
"Well, thank you, Molly, I appreciate it. But I really must finish what I'm doing, I have a very important case to work on." He said, dropping his gaze from hers and staring back at his expensive microscope.
Why couldn't he be kinder? Why did he have to shove everyone out of his life when he could see they were interested? To watch Molly shake when she looked at him... maybe it was the power. He had control over her; control over SOMETHING- and that was what he liked best. Sherlock enjoyed the thrill he got from controlling Molly's emotions; as emotions were indeed a powerful thing. To control one's emotions was to control their soul; to control their heart- and their mind. And Sherlock liked that.
Because, in reality, Sherlock wasn't as genius as he made himself seem to be. Sure, Sherlock was a proper mastermind, but why did he have to make everyone know it?
He wanted them to know because it lifted himself higher- and that only makes the fall that much more deadly. Because the higher you go, the harder you fall- and Sherlock wasn't smart enough yet to realize this.
The only falling he recognized now was the sort that had Molly doing everything for him. The sort of falling where her palms itched and her words tumbled over the next and the last word in a confusing, mixed-up jumble of a sentence. The sort of falling where no matter how hard you try, there's no stopping- you just keep falling, and falling, and falling... to nothing.
There's literally... nothing left.
And that's the kind of falling Sherlock knew, because Molly had it. He liked to see her words jumble up, he liked to see her reduced to nothing, and he liked to have her do everything for him because in his eyes, he deserved it. Thus was the gall of Sherlock Holmes- thus was what had him making the biggest mistake of his life.
Sherlock tried to take the falling and make it work for his schedule and his life; he attempted to twist it and manipulate it to make it become his own. The falling was something he tried to have.
But, you, see, love has no boundaries. It cannot BE held, or contained- it must be set free. It has to be let go, and if it works for you naturally, it's meant to be. So when Sherlock tried to hold it, contain it, and not set it free, it came back to slap him across the face so hard you could hear the vibrations throughout the world because SHERLOCK... Sherlock had the gall to contain love.
And Molly wasn't one to be manipulated, because as thin as she already was, this made her thinner- this made her break.