I was sitting by the fire, my eyes fixed upon the glow. The sun had long disappeared and the streetlamps shone upon the empty streets which were so crowded the whole day. Holmes´s head was lying on my shoulder and he was covered in a warm blanket. He had fallen asleep about an hour ago, after we sat down on the sofa. He had had a breakdown that day. After he had solved the case of the Oxford murderers during which he had worked night and day and had, as usual, refused to eat, his body and nerves had given away under the pressure.
Of course I was there for him. I built him up again and we had a nice dinner together. Now all was silent. The crack of the fire and the long deep breath of my friend were the only sounds in the room.
It was no unusual thing for us to sit together in this way. We both enjoyed being together.
Suddenly, Holmes lifted his head. He looked at me with two tired but shining eyes and smiled.
"Are you not tired, Watson? Let´s go to bed. It is very late and we don´t know what tomorrow may bring to us." He stood up and sized my hand. We went to our bedroom and got dressed for the night. Then I lay down upon the soft pillows and felt the homely feeling of tiredness. I felt Holmes as he moved beside me and put his arms around me. His beautiful grey eyes were searching mine as I blew out the candle on the side table. "Good night, Watson." said he softly. "Good night, Holmes" I whispered smiling as I fell asleep.
It was no unusual thing.