The fridge's covered in them.

Paper blue, pink and white, little notes scribbled in haste and love, have taken over Sherlock's fridge.

Gone for milk. Liver's in the fridge. Stay safe.

John doesn't recognise the cursive M, initalled at the bottom but it adorns every single one.

He begins to clean them off when suddenly he's called out.

"What are you doing?"

"They're cluttering it-don't they bother you?"

He's given a firm gesture in the negative.

When John excuses himself to the bathroom, he finds the mirror much the same but the little notes, well-

You're so very sexy. I'll be thinking about you. I'm in love with you.