“Sherlock, what the actual fuck just happened to you? Because OW,” Summer shouted through the door. For someone who pretended to not feel, his emotions were really /loud/.
He felt his arousal jump higher as she said his name and scowled. He dragged his blue eyes over to her and they raked over her curves before landing on her face. No, no. Stop it! You can’t think like this! She’s got a crush on Mordred or Arthur… He couldn’t remember which one. “Nothing happened to me. Go away.”
“You’re really bad at lying, you know. Seriously. Are you okay? Sherlock? Because you don’t seem okay. More than usual, I mean.” Now she was really confused, because he wasn’t even acting like the usual Sherlock — well, the words were right, but the motivations were all wonky.