Johns POV
I woke up this morning and realized it was a year ago Sherlock died. I never told him the truth.. I loved him. I still do. I remember the time when he was alive, and it was the best time of my life. When we solved crimes together. I miss him so much. His eyes, his cheekbones and his personality.
It's gone so far that I like my nightmares because it’s the only way I can see his beautiful face again. I take another sip of my tea. Since today is exactly a year ago he died, It's so hard for me to go to his grave today. I’ll do it tomorrow. I get up from Sherlocks armchair. I look towards his room. And I think that he’s standing in the doorway.
“I miss you John” He says, and then he starts to disappear.
“No, please, this can't be true!” I scream and start to cry.
I walk over to his bedroom and lay down on his bed. I press my face into his pillow, it still smells like him, Sherlock, and I will soon be drenched with my tears. I fall asleep and three hours later I wake up. His pillow is still wet and my eyes are puffy. I miss him so much and I don't know what to do. I understand that crying won't make anything better but I can't help it. He wouldn't like me to cry but its hard to smile when I'm sad. I walk down the stairs and go to the florist's shop to get some flowers for Sherlock for tomorrow. I want to give him the red roses and of course a letter. I wish he could read it, but he doesn't exist anymore. I pay for the flowers and start to walk home. It's been a long day today and I'm exhausted. I check the time, only 7pm, i don't care. Even though it's only 7pm I go to bed, I'm too tired to stay awake right now. I crawl into his bed. With trembling but heavy breaths I pull pit his scent though my nose and then slowly exhale. Then i fall asleep.
