A/N - yet another Molly x Sherlock fic I'm working on...This is inspired by Taylor Swift's song Last Kiss, because not all stories have happy endings...

Molly learned a lot of things after the day Sherlock waltzed into the mortuary wielding a riding crop. She learned that people use you, and that's not something that happens in high school T.V. dramas. She learned that those people need somebody to change them. She learned that while they might change on the surface, they'll eventually stop needing you.

Molly woke up to the dim light of dawn filtering through her cheap, thin curtains, her cheeks crusty with tears, the scent of cinnamon, musk and cologne clinging to her skin. She heaved a sigh filled with loss and longing (she'd never admit to the hint of lust at the scent), levering herself up from the arm of the sofa, unfolding her legs from under her, pulling the shirt over her head to hold in tenderly in her hands. It was crinkled, no doubt she'd have to wash and iron the aubergine curse before he came to collect the rest of his things that were littered around her flat as if it were his own. Well, perhaps not like his own – God help anybody that had a flat that that man thought was his – but as close to...

She blinked back a fresh set of tears and let the shirt drop to the floor.

"I hope you'll be happier married to your work." She whispered and slid back into a foetal position on the sofa.