Title: At every joint and motive
Word Count: 169
Warnings: None
There is ink stained on his fingers and he isn't sure at all how it got there. When he looks up, Holmes is still sitting across from him on the duvet. Pose languid and yet still full of energy. Unresolved energy. There is ink smeared across his jaw.
"Holmes," he broaches but his voice seems terribly stiff. Holmes looks his way, as if interested, and Watson hides his fingers. "Do you think—" Something is keeping the words at bay, lodged in his esophagus. He takes a deep breath, tries again. "Do you know if we will ever find out how this happened?"
Holmes blinks in a way that suggests he hasn't a clue what Watson means. But Watson knows better. He can see in the subtle changes that moved through Holmes form with each word that fell from Watson's lips, a domino effect. Holmes often forgets the things he says to Watson with a simple twitch. Forgets that body language is the one Watson reads all too clearly.
