Paparazzi
Sherlock had insisted on making me breakfast. I didn't trust him, considering he was doing an experiment at the same time. I made myself scrambled eggs on toast. I offered Sherlock some, but he snorted and went back to his experiment. I sat at the table, eating my breakfast and looking through the daily newspapers. I bit into my breakfast, hearing the crunch of the toast and feeling the warmth of the eggs in my mouth. I placed my finished newspaper aside and grabbed the other one. I almost had a heart attack as I read the front article.
"Sherlock! You'll want to see this!" I called out. I heard a moan and footsteps coming towards me.
"What is it John?" Sherlock asked.
"Look at the front cover article," I answered, handing the paper over to him. He frowned.
"Oh," he said. He handed it back to me. The front picture was a photograph of Sherlock and I kissing from a few nights ago. I remember that night; we were out on another date. We were madly in love, and it seemed the press knew too.
"What are we gonna do?" I asked, looking up at the blue eyed man. He had his arms around me, his elbows resting on my shoulders. He was deep in thought.
"Not sure. We can't deny it. You knew they were bound to find out someday," Sherlock replied.
"Yeah, you're right," I said with a sigh, looking back at the paper. The press were mad about us. Sherlock kissed the top of my head, making me smile.
"You shouldn't care what the press think, what others think. We're in love, simple as that," Sherlock said and walked away. I heard the fridge door open and a grumble come from the kitchen. "John! We're out of milk!"
"Well what am I supposed to do?" I asked.
"We have to go out," Sherlock said, returning from the kitchen.
"Out there? Really? The press are out there," I replied, "I saw them this morning. I opened the curtains and I was attacked by bright white flashes."
"Let them watch and gabble on about pointless gossip!" Sherlock scoffed. I nodded in agreement. I finished my breakfast and we got dressed. I followed Sherlock down the stairs. He called out to Mrs Hudson, telling her that we were going out and to not let anyone in. We stood at the front door. We could hear the murmur of chatter just beyond. I entwined my fingers with his.
"You ready?" I asked.
"As always John," Sherlock answered. I twisted the doorknob and opened the door. We were greeted with bright flashes and thousands of questions.