What Does Sherlock Holmes Look Like Novels & Stories

Either that or he was some forgotten descendant of Goliath. He had a small man bun at the back of his head, and the suit he wore looked like it might just come undone with a bit of a movement. His eyes, a deep shade of brown, and a scar that ran down from his left eye to the corner of his lip made him look like what horrors were made of. He took me in with what I could assume was his gentle gaze. “‘S’there a problem, miss?” He arched a brow, and all hope frizzled into nothing.

To think I’m actually seeing it in real life. The composite sketch I’ve seen broadcasted didn’t do him justice. The sketch made him look gaunt and forgettable. The man in my living room is neither of those. Sharp jaw, grey-green eyes that are steady and unblinking, a mouth that's full on a face that radiates control. Black shirt stretched across shoulders thick with muscle. He’s built like a man who trains daily. The Phantom is in my house. I always pictured serial killers as ugly, lonely men in basements. This man looks like he could walk into any bar in the city and leave with whoever he wanted.

She watched him as he eat silently, he didn't really spare her a glance. She also used the opportunity to examine his looks. The room was brighter, making it possible for her to see what he really looks like. After a careful examination, she realized that she has seen him somewhere before but wasn't sure. He has an oval shaped face, a peer of brown eyes. His hair flopped over to his face, covering part of his eyes. It gave him a dangerous look. She also noticed his skin colour, his skin colour is very white, it looks soft.

"How do you mean?" He stopped and placed both of his hands on her arms, so, he could have a good look at her. He particularly looked at her eyes for any signs of her wolf, but it was about of gray orbs that looked right back at her, no sign of the amber he associated with her wolf, "It's you." He stated. She rolled her eyes with a smile, "Of course it's me, Sherlock." She responded, as she gave his nose a playful tap with her finger.

But when I finally lifted my gaze, I froze. He didn’t look like a monster that could hunt nightmares. His head was shaved close to the skin, giving him that sharp, deliberate look that let him blend among Mundanes. In the shifting lantern light, his build became clear—broad-shouldered, strong, almost as well-built as Magnus but lacking his height. If I hadn't played his twisted game before I would have mistaken him for someone kind and gentle. But his eyes were the giveaway. Cold, unblinking, glittering with that manic amusement, like a man who found pleasure in pain, a butcher marveling at his blades.

"I'll decide when you tell me who tell me who you are looking for." He pulled the hood away, the fact that he was backing the dim light made a shadow cast over his face but Zezi could see it clearly with her wolf sight. He was a slightly muscular man, with hooded eyes, high cheekbones and lips as thin as a line, black short beards and moustache, but not a single hair on his head. His skin just as dark as hers, no--- a shade lighter. He looked young, like he was twenty or thereabout. He looked like he could be keeping things on him. She took in a sniff for silver or wolfsbane but she found none. No scent.

Hadley. As we arrive at the front entrance, I see a tall and slender man approach. He has blond hair that looks disheveled. His face is narrow and round. He has plain blue eyes that suit him better than any other color would. He is wearing a brown suit, that looks a little too big for his frame and a red bowtie, which seems to be the most extreme color in his color palette. He is wearing frameless glasses that makes him look scholarly, and his sleeves are a little too short for his long limbs. Overall, he looks like someone you would find working as a librarian in a secluded pack.

"He was wearing a long black cloak. His face was mostly hidden beneath the hood, but when the wind moved it, I saw part of his face." "What did you see?" "A scar." My eyes narrowed. "What kind of scar?" "It ran from the left side of his forehead, across his temple, and down toward his jaw." Interesting. "Anything distinctive about his eyes?" The spy shook his head. "I couldn't see them clearly." "His voice?" "Deep. Calm. He didn't sound nervous at all." I walked toward my desk. "Continue." "Helena was angry when she arrived." "About what?"

I gazed at him with a hostile look. I wouldn't deny it but this Zen guy is truly phenomenal. He was in his human form. His hair was of the color of snow and his eyes were arctic blue. He had long temples and very tantalizing lips. His voice was deep, serene, and alluring. He wore a long, dark coat and had a wolf-fang piercing that was dangling on his right ear. His skin was a little bit tanned and he had that sexy scar on his neck. Wait, did I say sexy?

But I noticed one thing different, he looked disturbed and sort of confused. I was just looking at him when I noticed him wearing a similar grey coloured, oversized hoody like me. To be honest, this was the first time when he appeared cute other than looking like a runway model. Like baby cute. His messy hair covered his forehead with his nose and lips, carmine because of the chill in the air. With his eyes staring at the grass, his hands were in the pockets of his hoody. A perfect image.