A/N: I don't know where this came from, but here's a thing I wrote when I was browsing Tumblr. It made me sad. (I don't even actively ship Johnlock, so wtf?)
He knew that it was impolite, but since when had Sherlock been polite? Sherlock couldn't help but stare at the man sitting across from him. John. John Hamish Watson. Such a simple name for such an intriguing man.
John had looked away for a moment, for which Sherlock was grateful. It gave him ample time to commit the perfect angle of John's jawline to memory. He wondered what would happen if he told John the truth, told him how he really felt. For once, Sherlock couldn't predict what he would do by his jumper sleeves or the button on his trousers.
His mouth opened soundlessly, and for a second her just sat, his heart thumping wildly in his ears. "I love you." Sherlock whispered.
John's head turned back to look at him, his eyebrows raised. "Sorry, I couldn't hear that. Did you say something?"
Sherlock's heart caught in his throat, but he kept his face neutral. "No."