Off My Chest

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Johns POV

I was going to tell Sherlock. I had sworn I was going to keep my feelings for him a secret but it hurt too much. He was sitting in his chair. "Sherlock I have to get something off my chest,'' I said,

The next thing I said could be my doom, was going to be my doom. I looked at him again. He had his fingers crossed. What the? "Is it your shirt, I hope it's your shirt ple-" he said before clamping a hand over his mouth.

I turned bright red. "What?" I asked.

"I said that I really hope it's your sh-" he said again halfway through clamping a hand over his mouth.

I chuckled. I knew Sherlock got like this when he lacked sleep. He said things fully truthfully. He basically had no filter and anything that came to mind he said. "How much sleep have you gotten?" I asked.

"About three hours," he said.

"How many days ago?"

"Four days ago."

"Oh god," I whispered.

"What did you want to say? I mean I assume it was something you want to say unless you were really going to ta-" he clamped his hand on his mouth and didn't move it this time.

"Well, I." I tried.

Words were really hard. I moved over to him and took his hand off his mouth. I then kissed him. He gasped and immediately melted. "I love you," he whispered.

He looked scared after he said it. I smiled and kissed him again. "I love you too."

We kissed again. After that, I curled up with him. Forcing him to sleep.

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