Sherlock Imagines

She's A What? (Part 4)-John

~Your POV~

You could hear Sherlock playing his violin. It was the song that he was playing on the night John first kissed you. It was a beautiful song but he suddenly stopped after the front door shut. You heard him go down the steps and open the door and walk outside himself. You sighed and sat down in a chair and turned on the tv. You began to watch your favorite show to try and get your mind off of things.
Once it was over you decided to go for a walk. You stuck your hands in your coat pockets and avoided any contact with anyone.  You walked into a coffee shop and got your favorite drink. You went to a table and sat down and sipped your drink. You sighed and looked down at your cup. You wanted so badly to have John forgive you but it seemed so impossible. That is, until you got back to your flat.
You opened the door and inside on the counter, was a bunch of red roses with a note stuck to them. The note read,

"I'm sorry if what I did hurt you but I want to make it up to you. Meet me at (insert favorite restaurant) at seven tonight.
~John"

Your heart suddenly seemed to jump with excitement. You checked your clock and saw that it was already six thirty. You then walked to your closet and sorted through your dresses until you found one that you liked. You slipped it on over your head and then examined yourself in the mirror. You then went outside, hailed a cab, and drove to the restaurant.
When you arrived, however, the place was empty. No one was there. You walked inside and it was dead silent. Caution built up inside you as you crept slowly inside. You looked around at all the empty tables all set up for people to come in and sit down at them to eat. As you walked past the tables you began to notice something. Each table had little square pieces of paper.  You went to one of them and held it up. You gasped and dropped it.  As you looked at the rest of them you noticed that they were all victims that you killed. The last table had a vase in the center of the table with a single rose that was slowly wilting. Two pictures laid on this table. Your eyes widened when you saw them. They were pictures of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. On the back of John's picture was a note written down.

"Time is running out for them. Better hurry!"

There was nothing else but that!  No initials. No description of where they were or even a clue of how to find them. You looked around at everything trying to see if the criminal left some sort of hint but there was nothing. You huffed and sat down in a chair hitting Sherlock's picture with your elbow. It flipped over and you saw scribbled writing on the back. An address!  You took the picture with you and left the building.