AN: I love "Sherlock" with all of my tiny heart and here is my story. So just let us begin, shall we..?
Intro
Small droplets of water hitting the window. A sharp breeze of wind blowing into his face. No traces of hard feelings or cold. Just pure determination.
Sherlock's fingers rested on the cool window while his breath hit the glass. He was starring outside, looking but not really seeing. Wishing but not hoping. His mind was blank but his eyes were transfixed on this one figure chasing a ball.
A few minutes ago the weather had turned into something quite ugly and it was starting to pour. But nonetheless John didn't care. He just saw the ball and his mind was set to get it into the goal right in front of him. He almost slipped a few times because the ground had become slippery and wet.
It was like watching a madman, adrenaline in form of a small man who seemed taller than the rest of his team and opponents.
Sherlock was fascinated. He didn't feel his black eye and the blood running down his hand. He just hold himself and watched, felt and his mind slowing down. A really rare occurrence.
John was ready to hit the ball when all of a sudden he was tackled by one of his teammates. It seemed that because of the heavy rain they couldn't know enemy from friend and he met a small puddle while missing the chance to score.
His teammate excused himself while John muttered profanities. It didn't matter anymore anyways. A few seconds later the game was called off due to the bad conditions and they had to leave the lawn unsatisfied. At least neither of both teams scored this afternoon.
Water was seeping its way into his eyes and he tried to blink it away, bringing his shirt up and starting to clean the mud off his face. All of a sudden he noticed the chilly breeze and how much he wanted a warm shower. Just being engulfed into warmness and hot steam.
Sherlock had seen enough. It was all enough. He had goosebumps and also the blood was dripping into the carpet and he knew he would get into trouble if this would be discovered. He was turning 18 in a few months but felt like a little child.
No one there to care, no one there to see. He was too emotional for his own good. Cutting off all of this nonsense would be the best thing to do and he just would go on like he always did. He was stronger than them. Mentally and sometimes physically but four against one was never a fair game to be played.
He went into his bathroom and cleaned himself up. His left eye stung and the pain in his hand was getting worse but he was used too much more evil than this. He would just go one and live his life even when there was nothing to live for.