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Full brilliantly coloured red, green, blue, brown. Intense Chiaroscuro, brilliant acrylic colour contrast with strong light & shadow effect, as the art style of Kusama, Takashi Murakami, Mucha: The pale ultra-pale hyper-pale half body portrait, cute Kyoto girl, eyes wide open, in psychedelic patterned swim suit, in dynamic swimming pose, blowing bubbles, among koi carps, against a backdrop of coral reefs, giant clam shells, ripples, Skips, Feathering, bleeding from indian ink, sketches of graph & waves, impasto oil painting, dark, abstract, ominous, style of Dave McKean and Stephen Gammell.
SHERLOCK: You got carried away. The game was too elaborate. You were enjoying yourself too much.
IRENE: No such thing as too much.
SHERLOCK (walking closer and looking down at her): Oh, enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine, craving the distraction of the game – I sympathise entirely – but sentiment? Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side.
(He bares his teeth slightly as he finishes the sentence.)
IRENE: Sentiment? What are you talking about?
SHERLOCK: You.
IRENE (smiling calmly): Oh dear God. Look at the poor man. You don’t actually think I was interested in you? Why? Because you’re the great Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat?
(He steps even closer to her, their bodies almost touching.)
SHERLOCK (softly): No.
(He reaches out and slowly wraps the fingers of his right hand around her left wrist, then leans forward and brings his mouth close to her right ear.)
SHERLOCK (in a whisper): Because I took your pulse.
(Flashback to Irene kneeling in front of him at the flat and putting her hand on top of his, then him turning his hand over and resting his fingertips on the underside of her wrist. In the present, Irene frowns in confusion, while Sherlock tightens his grip a little around her wrist.)
SHERLOCK (softly into her ear): Elevated; your pupils dilated.
(Flashback to her kneeling in front of him, her pupils widening as she gazes at him. In the present, he releases her hand and leans past her to pick up the camera phone from the table.)
SHERLOCK (in a more normal voice): I imagine John Watson thinks love’s a mystery to me but the chemistry is incredibly simple, and very destructive.
(He turns and walks a few paces away from her. She follows behind him until he turns and faces her again.)
SHERLOCK: When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait. How true of you: the combination to your safe – your measurements; but this ... (he tosses the phone into the air and catches it again) ... this is far more intimate.
(He pulls up the security lock with its “I AM ---- LOCKED” screen.)
SHERLOCK: This is your heart ...
(Without breaking his gaze into her eyes, he punches in the first of the four characters with his thumb.)
SHERLOCK: ... and you should never let it rule your head.
(She stares at him, trying to stay calm but the panic is beginning to show behind her eyes.)
SHERLOCK: You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you’ve worked for ...
(He punches in the second character, his eyes still locked on hers.)
SHERLOCK: ... but you just couldn’t resist it, could you?
(Her breathing becomes heavier. Sherlock smiles briefly and triumphantly.)
SHERLOCK: I’ve always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage ...
(He hits the third character, still gazing at her.)
SHERLOCK: Thank you for the final proof.
