Chinduggery Head Canon. c:

“I see you’re up,” he grinned at her.

“You don’t say. Of course I am up and you’re not blind, there’s no reason for you to not see me.”  She rolled her eyes and grinned stupidly. He was an idiot, a good looking idiot but an idiot nonetheless. He leaned against the wall behind her and came in closer, their lips meeting briefly.

“Fancy breakfast at Tiffany’s?” he whispered in her left ear, almost like sing-song.  She couldn’t feel his warm breath on her neck, but she knew full well that if his lungs still had a breath that would be what she could feel. She often wondered what it’d be like if he was still alive. She unbuttoned the top four buttons of his crisp white shirt and pressed her fingers gently against his collar bone. The once waxy skin was absorbed back into the bones as the hollow eyes stared back into her blue ones. She preferred him like this. She preferred him as a skeleton. He was the great skeleton detective, after all.

“My darling dear, did you even have to ask?” a small smile came across her full lips. Her right hand brushed across his chest as she walked past him and entered her bedroom to change out of the delicate green dress she was wearing.