You got carried away.
The game was too elaborate, you were enjoying yourself too much.
Enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine,
Craving the distraction of the game, I sympathise entirely, but sentiment?
Sentiment is achemical defeat found in the losing side.
"Sentiment? What are you talking about?"
You
"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?"
No,
Because I took your pulse,elevated.
Your pupils dilated.
I imagine John Watson thinks love is a mystery to me, but the chemistry is incredibly simple and very destructive.
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, this is far more intimate,
This is your heart and you should never let it rule your head.
You could have chosen any random number, and walked out of here today with everything you work for.
But you just couldn't resis it, could you?
I've always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage, thank you for the final proof.
"Everything I said, it's not real,
I was just playing the game."
I know. And this is just losing.
(I AM SHER LOCKED)