Text Messages Cannot Convey Feelings

Chapter Five

Not another text was sent for a month. It was as long as John could bear. Hopefully, Sherlock would think that John was too wrapped up in his new girlfriend to text his dead flat mate. Even though said dead flat mate was also his best friend.

Even though said dead flat mate meant all the world and more to him.

I think I'm going to ask them to marry me. JW

If this text didn't bring Sherlock back, nothing would.

John gave it an hour before Sherlock burst through his door.

*

An hour later, Sherlock had not burst through his door.

There was one last thing John could try. Within a week, he would be engaged. As far as Sherlock Holmes knew.

I'm going to pick out a ring tomorrow. JW

Three days later would be an appropriate time, John decided. He was officially unofficially engaged. To put himself in the right mindset, John imagined himself taking out a woman for lunch.

They got a private room.

The woman didn't have a face. John couldn't imagine what a woman that he would be involved with would look like.

They talked and laughed the whole time. Then John got down on one knee, and produced from the folds of his jacket a tiny black velvet box.

She said yes.

She had a very low voice, for a woman. John wondered why that was.

He imagined himself taking his bride-to-be around, telling everyone they knew the happy news.

So happy.

Only when he got home would he text Sherlock.

She said yes. JW

*

The disappointment was crushing him.

Not even the prospect of the doctor getting married was enough to bring Sherlock back.

Maybe Sherlock really hadn't cared about any of John's relationships.

Maybe he had moved on.

Maybe he has died.

John had to face the facts. Sherlock was dead. He wasn't ever coming back, no matter how much John wanted him to.

I want you to be there. JW

His last desperate attempt. He silently pleaded with whatever deity was up there that Sherlock would come home. If only Sherlock would come home, John would do anything.

He tried to relax, but he couldn't keep his foot from tapping in anticipation. His gaze was locked on the door, waiting for a tall man with a dark head of hair to barge through it.

The door stayed shut.