Sherlock preferences

Writingmas - Day 21

John oneshot - ice skating

As you slowly paced the bustling night of London's streets, snowflakes began to fall. Minute, white crystals fluttered to earth, some getting caught on your eyelashes and clothes which melted into little distilled teardrops that finally made it to the floor. As you walked on, admiring the silver hue radiating from car lights, Christmas trees and snow, John squeezed your hand excitedly.
"Look, they've opened the ice rink outside the Natural History Museum! Do you... Want to go with me?" He asked, nervously, in a tone in which you may observe he expected the answer to be 'no'.
"Yes, yes, yes!" You squealed excited, bobbing slightly with unconfined joy.

Once on the ice, you assumed that John would actually be good... You assumed wrongly... His body was shuddery and unstable as he clutched onto your arm for dear life. Suddenly, one of John's skates caught a dip in the rink and he stumbled forward, his legs flailing and panicking in a cartoon-like sequence.

He fell...

As you were holding his hand, you were pulled down with him into a cold, bruised pile on the floor. Robotic, faceless people blankly skated past you, showering you in shaved ice.
"John, are you ok?" You asked, holding your arm which buzzed with a static, muted pain that seemed to fizz up every time you moved it. His eyes deepened with worry as he saw the hurt-induced grimace hanging on your face.
"Yes, I'm fine... But what about you? Are you hurt?"
You cradled your forearm close to your body like a weak child. John sat up and eased you across to the edge of the rink to inspect your arm.
"Really John, I'm fine... It's probably just a sprain!"
You flinched violently as John gently pressed the centre of your arm
"Sorry, sorry..." He whispered as he rolled up your sleeve "no... It's not a sprain. More likely a fracture. You'll need a cast."
He unwrapped the navy blue scarf from round his shoulders and tied it about your own, placing your wrist into it like a sling.
"Try not to move it ok? I'll get you to a hospital."
John then proceeded to remove his ice skates and lift your limp, chilly body up in his arms and carry it through the streets of London.
"Wait... John, are you wearing shoes?" You asked, curiously, trying to catch a glimpse at his feet.
"No." He replied, soldiering on like a tank.
"JOHN! You'll catch your death! You should have put your shoes back on!"
John stopped for a moment, turning briefly into a dainty little side street lit by white fairy lights. As he gazed lovingly into your eyes, he stated:
"Some things are more important than shoes"
You giggled childishly at this and he leaned down, pecking your lips softly, endeavouring to not cause you any further pain.
"Well John, if you are willing to walk two miles to A&E with me in your arms... You are the most amazing person I know. I love you John, utterly, completely, entirely..."
John's eyes twinkled back at you with delight through the fairy-lit darkness.
"I love you too. Extremely, eternally, infinitely..."