John
Tuesday
I woke up to the sound of raindrops drumming against the window. The sky was filled with dull, grey clouds. I let out a soft groan of annoyance. What exactly did I expect? It was winter in England. My hopes for a sunny day weren't exactly that high.
Sitting up, I noticed that the bed next to me was empty. Actually, it looked as if no one had been in it at all. Maybe they hadn't. I had fallen asleep before...
"Sherlock?" I mumbled, my voice croaky.
"Ah," his voice across the room grabbed my attention immediately. I turned my head towards him, "good morning John."
Sherlock was sat on the sofa, reading a newspaper, already fully dressed.
"You're up early." I yawned.
"You're up late." He replied simply.
I threw a pillow at him, "Idiot."
He just smiled, indicating he realised I was joking. I knew it was a real smile as, unlike forced smiles, it reached his eyes. The thought that I could be the only person who has seen this smile made me both excited and terrified.
I returned the smile.
"Why are you up so early anyway?"
Sherlock sighed and put the newspaper down. "I didn't go to sleep."
I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why not?"
"Because I don't see a point in sleeping."
Rolling my eyes, I began to get ready. "What did you do instead then?"
Instead of replying, he nodded at the newspaper by his side. I checked the time on my phone: 10:37am.
Once I was ready, we headed down for breakfast in the restaurant attached to the hotel. Thankfully, breakfast was complimentary. We both had cereal and exchanged glances over our bowls.
"What are we doing today then?" I asked after swallowing a mouthful of cornflakes.
Sherlock put down his spoon and placed his hands under his chin. "Evidently, it's too cold to go to the beach." I nodded. "I suggest a walk through the village."
"Sounds like a plan."
~
The winters air stung my cheeks and managed to crawl into every open crevice, sending a shiver down my spine. Sherlock and I walked side by side down the pavement and through the village. Admittedly, it was a very small village and wouldn't take us all day, but I'm sure we'd find something to keep us occupied.
The village, to my surprise, was nearly empty. Probably the weather. Even though I'd figured out the meaning behind the lack of humans, it still seemed abandoned to me.
We spotted a small fountain in the centre and headed towards it. I sat down on the side and Sherlock followed my lead.
The fountain was surrounded by a selection of old looking shops. They looked as if they were Victorian and complimented the cobblestone floor nicely.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
[2:21pm] You having fun? - GL
I smiled and showed Sherlock the message. After spending a while trying to word a response, I decided to suggest one to the boy next to me.
He agreed and I lifted the phone and aimed it at us. I flipped to the front camera.
"Smile." I said before snapping the photo.
After sending the picture to Greg, Sherlock and I went to find somewhere for a, admittedly very late, lunch.
The rest of the day passed similarly but, if I'm honest, I've never had more fun.
~
Wednesday
As the weather was slightly nicer, we decided to go to the beach. It was still, of course, extremely cold. No skinny dipping then.
We wandered along the seafront, only narrowly avoiding the lazy waves. The sea gulls screeched overhead.
"You never answered my question." I pointed out suddenly.
Sherlock turned to me, "What question?"
"You said your family didn't like what you are," I paused sensing he was uncomfortable, "What are you?"
His body noticeably tensed.
"It doesn't matter."
"Why not?"
Noticing he wasn't going to reply any time soon, I reached out and took his hand in mine. He smiled down at me appreciatively as we continued to walk along the sand.
We received many odd looks as we made our way back to the hotel, hand in hand. Although we both knew I had meant it as a friendly gesture, it still felt like it was something more. His hand seemed to fit in mine. Like two puzzle pieces slotting together.
We completed each other.
~
That night, I managed to persuade Sherlock to sleep. It took a while but, eventually, he gave in. I felt slightly superior as I watched him sleep next to me. Like a mother bear watching over her cub.
Alright, John. Bit creepy.
Oddly enough, I wasn't tired at all. It was nearing midnight and I was still wide awake. I took the opportunity to watch the boy next to me. He looked peaceful. Relaxed.
I thought through all the things I've ever wanted to say to him in an attempt to keep me occupied. Perhaps I could tell him now... He was sleeping. He wouldn't hear me. This was a perfect opportunity.
"Um... Hi." I whispered, immediately feeling stupid. It was like talking to a baby bump. I tried again, "Hello, Sherlock. I... I really hope you can't hear me or this is going to be really awkward when you wake up... Anyway... I just wanted to... God this is so stupid. Well... I just wanted to take this opportunity to say that... I like you. I like you for all your stupidly clever remarks and your stupid face and your stupid cheekbones and... You're really cute when you're embarrassed and when you do that cute little thing with your nose when you're thinking...
"Oh, and you have a stupidly nice smile. Seriously, it makes my heart flutter like a little school girl. Don't even get me started on your hair. I constantly have to stop myself from running my hands through it. Someone should consider putting me in a straight jacket it's that hard to resist. I swear you have galaxies instead of eyes. It's so easy to get lost in them.
"Right... Where was I? I like you Sherlock. I'm not even going to bother denying that any longer. Greg figured it out. So did Harry. Frankly, I'm surprised you haven't deduced it yet. That leads me to another point: you're incredibly smart. I don't care what you say, you're a genius in my eyes. A beautiful genius... My beautiful genius."
After a few more minutes a rambling, I fell asleep. It felt nice to get it all of my chest. It felt good knowing that I'd told him. I'd told him everything I'd ever wanted to say to him and more.
I just hoped he didn't hear.
