Anonymous Blog Update: (00:13) 2nd August:

There is a fine line between routine and obsession, which most of us happen to cross during day-to-day life. When we fuss over our appearance a little more than we should or when we rearrange furniture just for the sake of it. I find that my obsessions tend to envelop me, but they define my persona perfectly and shape me to be who I am today. However, I hate to inform you all, but I have an obsession I simply cannot rid myself of. I Sherlock Holmes have become obsessed with something. Not nicotine patches or heroine, those are merely distractions from a greater obsession of mine. I can get rid of those with ease. My new obsession and craving in life is John Hamish Watson.

The ex-army doctor had me from his first word. I felt a dragging sensation from my core like nothing I'd ever experienced. It made me desire something. Him. He makes my mind slow its rapid pace and allows me to concentrate solely on him. My John. Well he's mine, he just doesn't know it yet. I leave him little messages, little things to let him know, but he's too blind, too ignorant to see them. Scratch that, he isn't ignorant and that's why I love him. He's just not as observant as I am; he doesn't notice how I position myself to face him constantly, or how I tap out in Morse code to him 'I love you' when he's busy. It's ridiculous I know, but I just cannot help myself. I have finally found someone who makes me feel wanted and honestly, he does not mock me, he just thinks I'm brilliant and that's a damned rarity! I need to go play my violin and clear my head. To anyone who read this, help?

Anonymous Blog Update: (00:47) 2nd August:

Okay so, I have a bit of an 'issue' here. I've gone insane, or perhaps everyone else would think that, but at this moment in time I find everyone else's opinion irrelevant. Why should they matter?

You develop some bad habits being a soldier. Mostly polishing all the time, whether it be weaponry or shoes, then there's becoming slightly paranoid and over-cautious even in normal situations. But, today I realized that I basically play boyfriend to Sherlock Holmes and it feels completely normal. I make sure he eats, sleeps and keeps the drug usage to a minimum. He doesn't even notice. We laugh together and stay up all night, talking about things that don't matter and its odd, but he really acts human around me. I think I'm the only person he acts normally around, or at least I hope I am the only person.. Would it be a bad idea to just tell him? I mean, he means the world to me and I think he deserves to know. I am in love with Holmes and his gorgeous cheekbones. I never thought I'd say this, but there is nobody I would rather drink my tea and share my favourite jumper with. He's actually adorable when we're alone. He likes Doctor Who and I just adore the way he plays violin late at night, it's soothing and it helps a great deal with my nightmares.. For instance, he's been playing it now for about half an hour and it's blissful. It's just amazing to listen to. I am in the right mind to walk down the stairs and sit down in my chair, he wouldn't notice. I've done it before. So many times.

Anonymous Blog Update: (00:51) 2nd August:

He stopped playing. I didn't even have enough time to go down there, but I have a cup of tea outside my door. He just put it there so he obviously knows I am awake, which can't be a good thing. God.. I might just go back to sleep. Yeah. That'll be a good idea. Although I doubt i'll get much sleep with this on my mind, it just seems too important to forget. By the way, thanks for reading this, whoever it is.

*2 MESSAGES*

John, I just made you tea and left it outside your room. I know you're awake, I could see the light under your door. -SH

You do have sugar, right? -SH

*5 minutes pass. MESSAGE*

John. Don't ignore me. It's really odious. -SH

*Another 3 minutes pass. MESSAGE*

Fine. You got me, I'm up. :) Thanks Sherlock. It isn't.. not bad, but I don't have sugar. -JW

*3 MESSAGES*

Your dialect comes across in your texts, stop. It's odious. -SH

Plus, double negative. -SH

Also, don't use smiley faces. -SH

*10 minutes pass. MESSAGE.*

John? I'm sorry. But honestly, your texting is terrible.

As the final text came through, Sherlock heard John's message tone go off behind him, he stiffened and turned after hearing a snort of derision. "Oh John, nice of you to join me.. What's wrong?" Holmes seemed baffled, but there was a grating worry in the back of his mind. His John was crying and he didn't know why. John's reply was simple, "Mrs Hudson found your blog and sent it to me."

The words sent a chill through Sherlock and he panicked, brushing back through his ebony curls, "I can explain, I am so sorry, John! I just couldn't tell you because you don't.. like me like.. THAT." His pauses were due to confusion and his brain was unable to process his situation rapidly whilst he spoke. Sherlock Holmes couldn't multitask.

John was walking over to him, clothed in his favourite woolen jumper, the tears clearing quickly and showing instead a broad, honest smile. He placed down his empty teacup and then raised his hand. Sherlock flinched in response, only to have his cheek caressed by a hand he had longed to feel the touch of. The shy touch made Sherlock's cheek prickle with heat and at full contact, he practically felt the electricity in the air, like static. John leaned close and uttered words quietly to him, "Just stop thinking about useless nonsense and just concentrate on me." A kiss punctuated his statement, not roughly, just as shy and awkward as every other kiss John had experienced, with one difference.. This felt right.

Soon, they were a flurry of tangled limbs, heated lip-locked kisses and there was a cacophony of low, intense groaning. John bit at Sherlock's lower lip and traced his hand down his back to settle on his backside, tugging the taller man close. Sherlock's breath was hot and heavy against John, causing the ex-soldier to shudder with delight. "By the way Sherlock.." He raised a brow and kissed John again, but deeper and they remained like that for a long while before John pulled away, "I know Morse code, you idiot."