Dorm 221B: Teenlock Fanfiction

Part One: Chapter Six

MASSIVE BUT IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Howdy Minions and Ducklings, Scarlet here! 

So I have some bad news. The wonderful MrRedHat is having some issues, both finding time to write the chapters for Dorm 221B and other things (you may have noticed the absence of A Study In Boredom *sobs*)

So to make things easier on her, from now on, I will be writing the majority of chapters, after lengthy plot discussion and guidance from MrRedHat. MrRedHat will still be editing this and making any major changes and edits to the chapters to help make them as amazing as possible!! AND if she gets time, she will still be writing chapters, but it won't be the regular every second chapter it has been up till now. So this is still very much a collab project and still MrRedHat's work, it's just that we will be doing things a little differently. 

Also, Dorm 221B now has a facebook page you can use to talk to us about the novel and get any updates on progress. We may also use it to do shout outs for all the other amazing sherlock fnafics and fanart out there. Let's make it an awesome page!!!

Check it out here ----->   https://www.facebook.com/dorm221b

So I hope you'll continue reading and enjoying our little creation, even with this change. Thanks for sticking with us on this journey, it's amazing that it's got over 6,000 reads. That's absolutely insane, so thank you again, and hugs and kisses to all you amazing people!! xoxoxox

~~~ 

John made sure to be awake before Sherlock the next morning. He had spent the night fuming. He'd gone to bed early, and so lay awake, feigning sleep as Sherlock came to bed. He could hear him moving about the room and he was sorely tempted to make a comment, but he held his tongue. He had some nerve to be rifling through his possessions. Again. He'd even led him to believe that they could be friends. They'd walked to class together, he'd tossed him a sandwich. All positive signs! But Greg was right. Sherlock didn't want friends, he just wanted a room of his own. And John would let him have it. Come Monday, that complaint would be registered as soon as the office allowed. But, he decided, not before Sherlock gave him back the watch. If Sherlock wanted privacy, that was exactly what John would not give him. He would follow him, night and day until he either found the watch himself, or Sherlock became so frustrated he gave in.

John had his uniform on (and his tie successfully tied, he was proud to note) as Sherlock's alarm went off, causing Sherlock to moan and roll back under his covers. John smiled and stepped over to Sherlock's bed. "Come now Roommate, that's no attitude to be having. Rise and shine." John clutched Sherlock's quilt and tore it from over his head. 

Sherlock flinched away from the bright light streaming through the window. "What the hell are you playing at!" he exclaimed, squinting as he sat up. 

"We have to be at breakfast soon," John said, in a tone one might use with a five year old. Sherlock frowned at him, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Then he saw the room. "What the hell have you done?!" he roared angrily, standing up. His striped pyjamas must have been a size too small as they didn't reach his ankles. The great piles of books that once decorated the entirety off room were now neatly stacked around Sherlock's bed, save the space John was standing. Each pile was the same height, stacked fifteen books high, and thus occupied a large portion of Sherlock's floor space. John smiled, "I returned your books. See, they happened to be on my side of the room, so I thought I'd do you a favour and tidy them for you." 

"How will I find the ones I want now? There was a system! You've completely ruined it!" 

John was surprised anyone could call that mess of novels a system, but each to their own. "Hurry now Sherlock, we'll be late for breakfast."