A/N: Ok so I'm sure this has been done like a million times now but I just want to write dabbles here. Sometimes cute. Sometimes sad. Always from John's POV since it IS his blog. Thank you for reading!

June 20th

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He took me by storm, this love of his. First time I saw him he amazed me, he stunned me. He was astounding and he couldn't even see it himself. He was so insecure with himself, but he buried it deep. He locked it away so no one would know. But I knew. I could see it, I could feel it from the first moment. And then he let me in. So far past what others were allowed to see. Only me. I was in his flat, I was in his space, I was in his head. And he was in mine. I gave up everything for him. My romantic interests hated me, they hated our relationship. I didn't care. I didn't even know what I was doing with them. I only wanted him and I can only guess he wanted me.

There was this time when we were in our flat and I was making tea, I always make tea its pretty much all I know how to make, and he was watching me. He usually never watches me because he's always too busy with his work. It seemed like I was more interesting now.

"What?" I asked, curious as to what I was doing that was so appealing to him.

"Your hands," was all he said. He could be frustrating like that sometimes. What about my hands? What was I doing with them that was different than usual? Did he like it? Did he hate it? Did he want me to stop? So many questions, but I kept my mouth shut. I just accepted what he said.

This time he felt like he needed to explain, though.

"The way they move…" He began, his voice deep. His voice was always deep, it was like a gentle reminder that he was a man, not a child that he acted like once in a while. "They're so graceful."

It was unexpected. Me? Graceful? This seemed like an experiment to me, some weird experiment. So I went along with it. Sometimes that's all you can do with him.

"Are they now?" I poured the tea over a strainer in the first cup.

"Yes. They know what they are doing. They are experts. They would never make a mistake even if you aren't thinking about it." I couldn't even understand where this was going.

"Oh," was all I said. I should have said more. I should always have said more to him.

"One day," he began. I noticed in my peripherals a nervous fidget from him. He's never nervous, so I looked at him. Those blue eyes caught mine. "One day I want to know how that feels."

And my heart stopped. And the world ceased to exist. Did he want to know… how that felt on him? Or did he want to be so experienced at something so trivial that he didn't have to think about it? What?

I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out. His fidgeting got worse. I knew he was going to run from his insecurities. This was one of them; opening up to anyone. Even me.

"Sherlock," was all I could say before he fled. He stood from his chair and bounded from his experiment table and went into his room. The door slammed shut.

What did he mean?

I should have asked more questions. I should have looked at him more. I should have made a move. I should have loved him better.

John paused from his frantic typing and leaned back to stare blankly at the laptop screen. His blog was pulled up and this post was in its drafts.

CTRL+A

Delete.