Sherlock P.O.V.
"You almost died, Sherlock!" You cried out. "You can't just keep bloody well doing that." My mouth just opened and closed uselessly. For once, in my existence, I could not form the words I needed to. They were caught on the tip of my tongue. I'm sorry. I just wanted. No, needed to save you.
You raised your eyes to meet mine. You looked on the verge of screaming. I want to beg for forgiveness but the apologies are choking me. My breathing has become laboured. I beg silently. You nod and walk off. I know you have understood.
"John, wait." I call out to you. You stop. You're back rigged. I close my eyes. A shaky breath drags through my lips. "I'm…" I try to apologise. I can't. "I'm not sorry."
I can't apologise for saving you. You know I can't. You keep walking. I'm not sorry for saving you John. I'm sorry for hurting you. Don't go. Don't leave.
You stop again and turn around. "You're a bloody arse, Sherlock." You grind out. Your eyes look moist. "John…" Your sad eyes make my chest ache. "I'm not sorry. I never will be. " You turn to go again. "I will never regret saving your life. But I will regret every moment you hurt." You're worth so much more to me.
You're the first person to stick around longer than a few days. You can't go. Not now. You're why I sleep and eat. I have someone to live for instead of just work. You're all I need. Please stay.
I care for you, so much. More than either of us knows. I have never cared for anyone, John. You are the exceptions to all the rules I've placed on my interactions with other human beings. I'd do anything for you, John. I step towards you.
John P.O.V.
I've come to terms with my feelings towards you. I thought they'd go away eventually but I hoped. Oh god, I hoped so much. I started noticing the extended glances, the touches, the secret smiles we share.
Maybe it's me. Maybe I only see what I want.
I know that someone like you wouldn't fancy someone like me. You're gorgeous and so bloody brilliant. I'm not that lucky. I just want to be us instead of you and I. I want it so much but even I'm not daft enough to think it'll happen.
You're so brilliant and beautiful and so bloody amazing. You're so brilliantly you. You're the world's only consulting detective. You're Sherlock bloody Holmes. You're my Sherlock. My insane, childish, brilliant Sherlock. I don't want to leave, I just can't take this. I can't see you nearly die. I'll go mad. I can't be just your best friend any more. I hear you step forward. "Sherlock, please. Just let me go." My voice hitched. I feel your hand on my shoulder. My heart leaps. I turn to meet your eyes. Your grey eyes hold mine. You're lips part.
"John…" You gasp. "Please don't go." I look down, unable to meet your eyes, begging me to stay. "
"I have to." I look back up. Your hand rises to touch my cheek. I close my eyes, dragging another breath in. I open my eyes again, letting out the breath. "I'm so sorry."
"I can't let you leave." You whisper. You step closer, lowering your head. Your eyes drift close, as do mine. Our lips touch. They are as soft as I had dreamt they would be. My hands move on their own accord to cradle your face. I pull you closer. You pull back, resting your forehead on mine. Our breath mingles. This is too much. I have to go. You pull back and whisper one word that changes my mind.
You stroke my cheek. "Stay." Your voice is pleading. You're eyes are scared. You look terrified. Uncertain. And I've never been happier or more certain. I know I need to stay. I'm just as scared as you though. Things will change forever. There will be new things I've never thought about before.
What if nothing changes? What if this is a game you're playing with my heart and you're just trying to get me to stay. You pull me into your arms. Pressing your cheek into my hair. Your hand cradles the back of my head. You inhale deeply. I hear the hitch in your breath. Your shoulders shake. You're crying softly. My heart breaks. I am making you cry. My arms wrap around your shoulders. I bury my face into your crook of your neck. Everything has changed.