I love you
Normal is Sherlock's perspective
Bold is John's perspective
We had just gotten back from dinner and had been snuggling on the couch when John kissed me on the cheek. "I'll be back in 15, we need milk since you threw out our old one because you needed room to put your thumbs," he jokingly said. I rolled over so he could get up. "I love you Sherlock," god I loved it when he said that. They were four very beautiful words he would never get used to, coming from the lips of the person he loved the most and that made for the best thing imaginable.
As John was walking out the door I was left alone to my own thoughts and feelings. I kept thinking back to the things leading up to this moment.
"No it's not that I don't…no I do care"
Lies, all lies I thought. Looks like he was fighting over the phone with his girlfriend. Again. I walked into the room aggravated about what happens every time he has a girlfriend. Who was his victim this time? Janice, Jane, Jenny? I had a feeling in my stomach it wasn't sitting well. Jealousy? I thought. Usually I'm suppressing these feelings to avoid getting hurt, but it's hurting me more to not act on it, than to avoid it.
"Jackie," John said getting more annoyed by the second. He shot me an exasperated look.
Jackie, that was it. He returned his gaze to the stack of papers he was pointlessly reorganizing over and over again. Sherlock was getting madder, and madder by each stupid, pointless thing John did.
"Meeting your mum isn't a national crisis…this is a serial killer we're talking about." John argued
"Hang up and break up already save her the heartache," I told John. Save me the heartache, I thought.
"Sherlock, I can't just break up with her," said John.
"I know, but I can" and before he could protest I stepped up and over the coffee table and snatched the phone from his grasp "goodbye and good riddance," I said with a snarl and hit end.
I fell back onto the sofa with a triumphant "ha!"
"Why would you do that?" John exclaimed.
I realized he didn't have an answer. Of course the question was rhetorical because John went on.
"You have no feelings! You are a heartless, cold machine! The only one you care about is yourself!" John was practically shrieking at the end.
I could tell my words struck home. Good, I thought he deserves it. I always do everything for him and he does nothing but complain, mope, and sabotage my relationships. Why should I always wait hand and foot on him to be scolded when I try to hold my own?
That comment stung, but he knew it was true. At least for the image he tried to project for himself. "You call me heartless when you lead girls on pretend that you like them, then you break their hearts. I don't know much about relationships but I do know that that is mean and cold," I was loosing my usual cool demeanor quickly.
"What do you really want?" I asked "or a better question is who do want? For whom do you always drop everything? The only person who makes your life here worth living? Your therapist was wrong, nothing new there," I couldn't resist the snide comment "you weren't afraid of war. You miss it in fact. There you had a sense of purpose, a cause to be. That is why you love being with me, on a case. You seek the thrill of the hunt and then kill, just like me."
He realized John was crying quiet little sobs but he couldn't stop now he was on a roll.
As always Sherlock was right. I felt wet droplets of salty water land on my shirt. I quickly tried to wipe them away before Sherlock saw them. Too late, he saw them. But he didn't care. He kept yelling
"How long is it going to take for you to realize that you crave not them, or anyone else besides the one who you would die and kill for? I was astounded to what Sherlock was suggesting, but I was even more surprised when I agreed with him
"You are so afraid to admit to what you are and what you feel, and you know you feel it. Whenever I thought of loyalty and courage I thought of you. Guess I was wrong," he continued
"You're right," a whisper barely audible above Sherlock's ranting's.
That stopped Sherlock mid-sentence.
"You're right," he said with more conviction. "I have just been kidding myself this whole time,"
"How could I have been so stupid to deny what I wanted and to not see that it was hurting the one I love the most instead?" he spoke softly more to himself than me.
Suddenly John leaned in. close enough so that I could smell his shampoo, peppermint.
"I love you," it was a whisper. Like a secret that was that was too precious to be overheard by anyone.
Then I closed the gap between the two of us so our foreheads were touching, lips barely apart. We were savoring the moment before out first kiss. Then it happened. I was only able to think of how good John tasted. He tasted of tea, honey, and a little salty from his tears. Just thinking of the pain my words caused him brought on a new wave of passion. Hugging John to me like someone was going to take him away, and I didn't want to let go. Sensing this John, the far superior kisser of the two, traced his tongue on my lips lightly. I opened up for him and let his tongue enter my mouth. Our tongues tightly entwined we collapsed on the couch and let our bottled up emotions out through our mouths. Minutes, hours, days could've passed like this, they had lost track of time. Slowly they broke apart.
"So what are you going to do about Jackie?" I inquired.
"Who? Oh um… well I have to break up with her to be with you," he answered.
"Do you want to go out for supper? You're always nagging me to eat," I asked.
"What about the case?" he said confused.
"You're not the only one who drops everything for his boyfriend" he said with a smile.
John smiled back at me.
"Come on" he said. His coat already on he helped me put mine on "well talk about this at the restaurant."