Henry Cavill Sherlock Novels & Stories

“Ryan Reynold is fine and all, but there is just something about Tom Hardy that drives me crazy. That rugged, brooding look? Ugh perfection.” I laughed, shaking my head. “I get the appeal, but for me, it’s Henry Cavill. Did you see him in that movie? Hmm The Witcher? His jawline is so sharp that it looks like it could cut glass, and don’t even let me start talking about his voice. That man is so sexy.” Lilith gasped dramatically. “You know what? Hell yeah! You’re right. He is like the perfect description of fairytale prince. Okay, top three- Cavill, Hardy, and…?”

TRISTAN'S POV “Remember, no shots fired until I say so, boys. How are we feeling?” “Good, bouncy even.” It was Cavill that replied first, and I understood perfectly why. He was trying to impress, but I didn't mind. All I wanted was for him to do a good job. Henry only nodded, cradling his revolver. He was frowning as usual, and I wanted him to do whatever he thought was best for him. I only wanted him to function as well as he usually did, nothing more.

The man was Henry Cavill with brooding attitude. “You’re still awake?” I said, leaning casually on the railing like my knees weren’t buckling at the sight of him. Trying my best not to looked at the daymmmn bulge. Heaven help me. He turned, eyes catching mine. That wolf-dark gaze of his was impossible to hold, so naturally, I held it—because sass is armor and I refuse to be the first one to blink. “Couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts.” His voice was low, that rumbling growl of his that made my stomach do very unladylike somersaults.