There was no better feeling in the world than the press of Her body against his. Her delicacy, Her strength, Her bashfulness, Her everything. The way Her slim body fit between his arm on the taxi seat, relaxed, mindlessly scrolling through the Twitter feed and occasionally chuckling about something She found. The way She smiled, turning around to look at him, Her brown eyes filled with laughter and happiness. He had always had addictive tendencies, and now he was addicted to the feel of Her skin against his. He found that he was starting to need it so much he wasn't sure how he could handle letting Her go. She was going to drive him crazy, one day.

Hell, he had no idea what he did to deserve Her. According to various witnesses, he had changed in the past couple months. Apparently he was more considerate, less self-centered and egotistical. He wouldn't have given a damn, to be honest. That is, if it hadn't lead to the acquiring of The Girl he'd denied his infatuation with for far longer than he should have allowed. But patience pays off, and She was here, now, in his arms, sharing his body heat, and nothing else in the world mattered. Till death do us part, he thought.

And that is how Sherlock knew he loved Molly.