A/N: Hey there! I'm back! This one-shot was inspired by another poem on tumblr which was something like: "things that fall: petals, teardrops, snowflakes, rain, stars, tides, eyelids, time, shadows, the sun, and I, for you." well, of course it was much more beautifully written, but I needed to reproduce it here for you so that you'd know what I'm talking about in this fic :).
Well, thank you for reading and please review, it means alot for me! :)
Falling things
The first time you arrived at 221B you wanted to make things a little more cheerful, so you bought a bouquet of daisies. You placed them on our coffee table and watched them with so much love that I couldn't help but stare at you every time you got up to change their water or their vase.
Then, something strange happened and your eyes didn't sparkle anymore; their petals started to fall and your papers were now covered in them. So you got up from your armchair and sighted; resigned, you cleaned the mess and threw it away, then you sat down again. Somehow, something inside you was sad because of those flowers.
You always had this power, to get attached easily, to love so deeply things that were insignificant to others, and I started to like that in you.
One night, your phone buzzed and I looked. It was Harry, so you decided to call her. She was bad, very bad indeed, and I could see the sadness in your eyes, the way you placed your hand over your mouth to keep the bad things inside yourself; you comforted her, told her everything was going to be alright, that you will be there with her the next time she felt bad, then she hung up. You stared at nothing for a moment, and then I could see teardrops falling from your eyes. You thought that I couldn't see the pain, so you went to your room and I decided not to follow. I decided that you were better on your own but I was so wrong.
You always were so good to people, so nice, no matter how much they hurt you, you kept crying all alone and the next day you would pretend everything was fine, just for the sake of others, and I started to like that in you.
One December evening I caught you in front of the window. You didn't use to watch the life outside too much, so I thought that maybe something happened. I approached you and as I did you turned to face me and smiled the most beautiful smile that I have seen in my entire life, and said:
"Look, Sherlock, the first snowflakes are falling!"
You were just like a child and I couldn't help but smile too; I wished that I could hold your hand and watch togheter the cloudy sky, the people below us, the dancing snowflakes as they approached the cold ground. Your happiness became my happiness, and for a moment everything bad in the world had disappeared. It started to smell like Christmas and joy and I really thought that I was capable of actually feeling for once.
You always made me feel happy when you smiled and I started to like that in you.
One day, you came home very angry and shouted at me. Your clothes were all soaked, your sandy blonde hair became sightly brown and you hung your wet coat on the door. You approached me and yelled at me:
"The rain is falling, you idiot, why did you take the umbrella out of my bag?!"
I didn't move or say anything, just watched as you made your way through the house, heard your steps as you entered the bathroom, and sighed.
Your soaked hair and your cold hands touching mine were so beautiful, so human, and I remembered that this was another one of your abilities: being beautiful no matter what. And I started to like that in you.
One night, after tracking down a murderer, you said that you were hungry so we stopped at Angelo's. Just like always, you were the only one eating, so I just sat there and stared at people, deduced their lives, their affaires, their fears. When you finished, we went outside, and you stopped for a moment and lifted your head.
"Look, Sherlock, a falling star" you said "make a wish!"
And so I did; I closed my eyes and wished that maybe I was in love with you and that maybe you could love me too; I wished that I could tell you how I felt every time you came next to me.
Then I caught you staring at me.
"It's okay, don't tell me what you wished for, they say that it won't come true this way."
You always made everything seem so special, and I started to like that in you.
One time we were in the common room, watching crappy telly, and I could see that you were daydreaming about things that were impossible for me to deduce.
"The falling tides…look how beautiful they are, Sherlock. I miss the sea..I wish we could go there sometime."
The way you said "we" made me feel butterflies in my stomach, and I pretended to go to the bathroom, just so you won't see my flushed cheeks.
You always said words in such a special manner that made them seem much bigger than they truly were, and I started to like that in you.
One evening we returned from a case we spent many sleepless nights on. You sat at the desk, your head in your palms, and listened to me as I ranted about the murderer. When I was finished, I spun around to see why you weren't answering, and I saw how your eyelids fell, how you fell asleep just before my eyes, my last words like a fairytale for your tired ears. I could feel you dream about our last case, about the murderer, and you seemed so fragile to me that I picked you up and rested you on the sofa, covered with a blanket. I watched you sleep so peacefully, your eyelids occasionally fluttering, perhaps remnants of a wild dream.
You always seemed so precious, so small next to everyone, so adorable, and I started to like that in you.
One Saturday I saw you watching some old photos that Mycroft had lent you. They were photos from my childhood, and you watched them with a silly grin plastered upon your face.
"Time falls fast, doesn't it? Look at you now, all grown up. But look how cute you were, Sherlock!"
Yes, John, time falls fast, but when I'm with you, I wish I could stop it, at least for one moment.
But you had this power, to make a moment seem like an eternity, and I started to like that in you.
One time, you were away for a week and I felt so alone. I could barely get up from the couch and I felt so bored that I could have died. The shadows started to fall, covering my whole body as I tossed and turned in my sleep, dreaming of you.
But when you came back I felt so happy, even though I didn't show it. You know very well that I'm incapable of expressing feelings the way you want me too.
Your presence always lit up the room, and I started to like that in you.
One autumn morning, we were out on a case, when I could feel that you weren't next to me anymore.
"I'm tired, Sherlock, okay?! I haven't slept in three days, give me a break!"
You sat on a bench and I sat next to you, two huge trees above us, and I could feel the leaves falling and surrounding us like a cocoon.
You always got what you wanted from me, and I started to like that in you.
One day, Jim Moriarty threatened to kill you, and I decided that I couldn't let that happen. The sun might have fallen, but no one was going to kill John, my John. I could have done everything for you, everything Moriarty wanted me to, and so I did. I had to kill myself.
And as I stood up on that rooftop, watching as you tried to convince me not to jump, I felt like I could finally tell you about my love for you, but I knew that I could come back one day. I had to follow the plan, play his game right, and it hurt to know that I was hurting you, it hurt seeing you kneel next to a stranger's body. But I fell for you in the end.
You were mine all this time, and I adored that in you.