Sherlock's eyes fluttered open and he looked about the room. His professor stood at the chalkboard, arms crossed and glaring at him. A small smile spread across his lips and he leaned backwards. "Holmes, would you like to explain the reason for your little nap?" the older man angrily inquired.
"To put it quite frankly, sir, I was bored. The lesson, if you could even call it that, was simply trivial recitation. Recitation of things I learned years ago. So I do hope you'll excuse my little doze, sir. It was for good reason," Sherlock's deep, gravelly voice filled the small classroom, even at its low volume. His professor sighed and dismissed the arrogant student as he returned to the board.
Sherlock smirked and glanced to the side. He saw a shorter boy quickly snapped his head away. He shook his head and shut his eyes again.
John Watson flushed a deep pink, his heart racing. Sherlock amazed him. Intrigued him. Fascinated him. Sherlock sparked something in him. Every time John saw the tall, dark, mysterious boy he felt something. He didn't know what, but something. An unknown feeling stirred within him. God I do hope this doesn't last, John thought to himself.
"Watson?" the professor asked, staring down at John through his wired spectacles. "I-I'm sorry what?" John stuttered, his face turning redder than it already was. The hum of a quiet laugh rippled across the classroom and John saw Sherlock's smirk fade. "Um, would you mind r-repeating the question?" John asked, flustered. The professor opened his mouth to speak, but Sherlock shouted the answer from his seat. "Get out of the class, Holmes," the professor angrily shouted, pointing at the door. "Gladly, sir. Excuse me," he smiled as he sauntered out.
Sherlock strolled through the hallway, inspecting the cream colored walls. He made his way to the main office and stepped inside.
"Oh! Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson called. An grin erupted on Sherlock's face as he leaned across the wooden desk she sat at. She pecked him on the cheek and smiled warmly at him. "Well, what did you do this time, Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson sighed. "Oh, nothing. Just decided to take a little walk," Sherlock smiled, his soothing voice charming the old woman. She laughed and returned to filing her papers. Sherlock heard a door slam and then quiet grumbling and cursing. "Hello, Mycroft," Sherlock smiled, his back turned.
"Oh, not you again," Mycroft exclaimed, clearly agitated. "Yes. You can't seem to get enough of me, so I thought a visit was in order," Sherlock spun around, taunting his older brother. "Just give it a rest. Let your professors feel at least slightly adequate," Mycroft mockingly pleaded. "Never," Sherlock grinned. The sound of rowdy boys entered the halls and echoed into the office. "I'd best be off, then," Sherlock said. Mrs. Hudson gave him another peck on the cheek and he stepped out into the hall.
Sherlock noticed the shorter boy from class and hurried towards him. His heart rate quickened as he reached out for the boy's shoulder. He tapped his shoulder and cleared his throat. Here we go. You'll be okay, just focus, Sherlock thought to himself. John turned around and saw the lanky boy towering over him.
Oh no, the two thought.