"Are you happy, John?"
Such a simple question that ought to require a simple answer, yet John couldn't force his mouth to form words and phrases and to be honest, he had no idea what to say. Was he happy? He didn't even know the meaning of the word anymore, though he did once—before it was so brutally taken away from him. His happiness had come in the form of unruly dark hair and clear blue eyes that John had not had the privilege of seeing for many months. It broke his heart to think about it, but John didn't want to lose the memory of Sherlock.
Oh, Sherlock.
Just the name evoked strong memories that John had struggled to bury in the back of his mind. He had tried to move on; the flat had been stripped of Sherlock's possessions, he had cleaned it thoroughly—no trace of Sherlock had remained. His room though—John sealed the door and refused to ever step foot in there again. John had even obtained a girlfriend—a lovely girl named Mary that managed to dull the ache that had taken residence in his heart to a point where it was manageable.
But Mary was no Sherlock.
She was lovely enough, John supposed. She as sweet and observant –always asking how he was feeling, making sure he was happy as he could possibly be at all times—Mary was nothing if not conscientious. John liked it at first—the feeling of being taken care of and being treated like a human was wonderful—but after awhile, it started to annoy the piss out of John.
She was boring, John had found; there were no surprises when it came to Mary and instead of being relieved about the predictability and routine that his life had fallen into he found it incredibly dull. Boring. Life with Sherlock had been anything but and it had been at times, incredibly overwhelming—he missed it more than he cared to admit.
"John?"
Roused from his thoughts John turned to look at Mary. Her eyes were brown, a deep color that would make most men swoon at the sight of them but John could only think of the blue ones that still haunted his thoughts on an almost constant basis. He gave her a tight-lipped smile and shook his head slightly.
"Of course."
She smiled brightly. "Alright, let's do this then." Mary held her hand out and waited for John's fingers to slide next to her own. Mary was beautiful he supposed, especially in the white dress she had been waiting for months to wear. He kept the tight smile on his face as Mary picked up a simple gold band and slid it onto his left hand. John gazed at the ring and pretended that his battered heart wasn't slowly dying.
This is what needs to happen, John.