Forgive me for intruding on your inboxes XD
John received the text at 3am, 14th February. Almost a year after he lost Sherlock.
Go to Angelo's. He'll take you to your seat.
He frowned in the darkness, the light of his smartphone blinding him a little.
Now.
He groaned before pushing back the covers, revealing his form. A little skinnier than he remembered, but more muscled as well. He almost dropped the phone as he reached for his cane, disoriented and still half asleep, he managed to his feet. However unsteady he was, he got out a set of clothes. Sherlock's old coat, a little tight across the shoulders, and a bit long. But it still fit, it was like having Sherlock draped across his back all day. His jeans, boots and a button down plaid shirt. Three o'clock in the morning? Angelo's isn't even open! He sighed and put his phone in his pocket, and, yawning loudly, made his way down the stairs.
There's a car waiting for you.
With another yawn, he stepped out into the air.
"Jesus it's cold!" he drew Sherlock's coat around himself tighter, neglecting for a second, his cane, and leaning it against the door. He almost forgot it, but grabbed it at the last second before hurrying into the waiting limo.
He never actually suspected Sherlock until the got to Angelo's. There was no one sitting at the table, but a small box with a white rose laid across it. He frowned and sat down at the box. It was simple, brown and messily packaged. He smiled a little when he picked up the rose. It smelled beautiful.
Open the box.
That text gave him a fright and he almost dropped the rose. He's been dropping everything lately. He pulled out his phone and laid it on the table. He let his fingers drift over the table cloth before pulling the lid off of the box, inside was a little box. It looked about the size of a ring box. But no, it couldn't be. He flicked it open and a little piece of paper fluttered out.
I'd let you read the paper, but I think this works better. Shut your eyes.
John frowned, before doing what he was told.
"Open."
Trolol.