The sunlight landed on the table that the journal, causing shadows to drift across the cover. Sherlock stared at it, his hands locked in his hair. She had left it for him for a reason. She had never let him look at it before. There had to be some reason she left it for him now.
But Sherlock couldn't bring himself to look at it. He knew he owed it to her after what he did to her. He knew that if he didn't he would be betraying her.
His hands fell from his hair towards the cover, his long fingers pulling the cover open. On the first page there was another note, written in her looping handwriting that he had never thought she would have.
Dear Sherlock,
In this notebook I have drawn my memories. These are ones that I hope you share, for we experienced them together. I hope that for my sake, you remembered our childhood.
Thank you Sherlock. For the good memories and the bad memories. Because at least they were memories spent with you.
With all my love,
Aura
Sherlock quickly closed his eyes. He couldn't do this. It would torture him too much
But he had to.
For her.
