Farewell to John (JohnLock) [COMPLETED]

Voiceless

I have profusely loved one man my whole life. I had been blessed with the privilege to meet someone who held such beauty that Aphrodite shall hide in shame in his presence, and a flower shall bloom from his fleeting touch. I was enamored; briefly forgetting my existence as he laid his marble eyes upon me. My whole body trembled with greed, with the need to touch his soft curls and jaw, with the desire to kiss him and let him feel that there was nothing that he couldn't possibly acquire with his allure, and with the eagerness to fill him with my heat.

He was all I could have ever wanted in this long and dreadful lifetime. Yet, I was separated from him. That monster of a man took him away from my grasp. And that was that very moment when I truly died.

"It's been a long time, isn't it? I was afraid you'd already forgotten me."

How could I?

I gazed longingly at his semblance. His voice was nonchalant as his eyes pierced through me. His voice… Oh, how much I have yearned to hear his voice. I was dreaming, I was sure. One wrong move and I'd be back in my silent world and I held my breath because I was afraid that one exhale would take him away like dandelions.

But I breathed out and he remained still.

I could feel the cruel beads threatening to leave my eyes as a series of lights flashed against his skin as if he was being photographed. I was taught at such a young age that a man should learn how to hide his tears yet here was the wetness threatening to leave the corner of my eyes, just like when I held that dead body.

But when I opened my mouth, another instant moment of realization dawned on me. I have forgotten how to speak. And so I answered him with distorted remembrance of what once was my voice inside my head.

"Why have you come back?"

"How surprising. I wanted to ask the same question... Why am I here, John?"

He leaned back on the chair and I stared at his long white fingers, contrasting with the black suit he used to wear. I could see that his nails were trying to dig in and tear the linen fabric, but his attempt was futile.

"Did you come back for me?"

He held back a laugh, and a crease formed in his mischievous eyes. He has not changed. He was the same replica of the man he was. He remained youthful as he glowed, whilst I continued to grow old and frail.

"But you've left me, Sherlock."

Silence enveloped us, a warm silence despite the cold petrichor seeping through the window. We looked at each other like we were in love; like we were the same young lads dancing behind the Holmes' backyard, unaware of the wicked gaze following our every move. Following his every move.

Oh—was he graceful like a deer. I wanted to keep him in a box and spur him to dance for me like a famished ballerina. He had always been the white swan in my somber lake, the moon in my otherwise stark midnight… but that was until he ceased to be.

"I did not leave you, my dear. I have never once left your side."

There was a glimpse of woeful blue in his eyes. Of course, he refused to go with his brother then. He was supposed to run away with me. We were supposed to make each other a warm cuppa and have a silly little quarrel about the grubby duvet, which I would have to apologize for because Sherlock was never wrong. I was supposed to feed him with my love, woo him as I planted little kisses on his long beautiful neck, and make love with him until the crack of dawn.

"I was always with you, and I shall forever be entrapped in this little fantasy of yours."

My heart was pierced and I could feel the traces of my blood trickling down my chest, numbing my whole body. The door opened and a familiar face entered. It was the nurse in her white gown holding a tray of lunch. She smiled at me with gentle eyes and resounding pity. I suddenly wondered if that is how she looks at all of us. I wondered if that is how he would look at me. 

I watched as she put the tray on my bedside table and she gestured with her hands, "Make sure to take your medicine after eating."

I nodded my head with a pursed smile and when she was gone, I turned to him, who was sitting on the bed, in front of the quiet telly.

Fate has been merciless as the wind within the valleys of decadence. My voice was gone along with him when I was sent to die in a futile war. But still, living in my mind was the ghost of our blissful past. There, I was voiceless, but his voice would forever remain unforsaken. Because I may have forgotten the sound of the thunder and rain, but his phantom will continue to live on until I am one with the earth.