John slams his english mug on the table, tea almost spilling out, spooking Sherlock out of his spiel of the after effects if their most recently solved case. Looking rather perturbed the older soldier glared in Sherlock's general direction, leaving the younger male confused in his sudden outburst.
"What?" Sherlock questioned from behind slender fingers.
"Is that all?" John seemed to get steamed up even more at Sherlock's egotistical remark.
Sherlock only looked even more confused, looking over John.
"I swear Sherlock, couldn't you have restrained yourself to show off to see what effect you take on people around you, for bloody hell's sake?" Resting his hands on the table.
"I..." Sherlock still confused, attempting to catch up with what John's getting at. "you'll have to elaborate for I have, many times before, showed off in massive propor-"
"Don't," cutting him off. "just don't."
"but I still don't-" Sherlock opens his hands away from his lips, for accentuation holding them up in the air.
"Yes, you do," pausing to look at the detective intensively. "you know what im talking about, Sherlock."
It takes him a moment to get what John's angry about, still he shows no interest in the issue.
"You're hung up on that?" raising an eyebrow and curling the corner of his mouth in confusion. "That happened hours ago, John. Quit living in the past, this is now, its over. Catch up, you're lacking." Sherlock resituated himself thinking the conversations over.
That remark sent John over the edge this time. Balling his fists in the air, elbows on the table, John slams his fists onto the table in frustration. This startles Sherlock a little more than last time.
"I'm done, Sherlock." Standing quickly, he pushes his chair back almost knocking it over.
"No reason to get frustrated, I can get you more tea." Sherlock dodges the actual problem... again. Of course, only upsetting John more.
"Sherlock, this isn't funny! For someone whose brilliantly intelligent as you are, you're just so bloody insensitive!"
Sherlock just sits there in amazement.
"No wonder no one can tolerate you, you're just so incomprehensibly conceded with yourself! There's no one else, just you! You can't even look passed your own bloody pride to notice those around you! Have you noticed that its not all about you, Sherlock?! It may not come easily to that big brain of yours, but others opinions and thoughts do matter, but I should know better to expect that of you, the great Sherlock Holmes, right?" John has moved himself further from the table in his frustration, pacing short distances and pointing at Sherlock, after pausing he stands leaning against the table, taking in short breaths and huffing deep breaths out his nose, avoiding eye contact with Sherlock, looking down at the table.
Sherlock, completely dumbfounded, blinking, says nothing in response.
"So, like I said before," John shifts his weight, continuing to lean on the table with one hand, sighing before he goes on, he looks up to make eye contact with Sherlock. "i'm done."
"John, what do you-" Sherlock stands as John turns to the door, beginning to walk towards it in pursuit.
"Sherlock," John intervenes sternly, looking back only half way. "I said, i'm done" pausing momentarily to turn his head back to the door, John shrugs on his jacket and opens the door, slamming it hard behind him leaving Sherlock standing in the living room of the flat purely conflicted.
"Did I miss something?" Sherlock scratches his cranium and looks around. Curious, he looks out the window to see John walking down the sidewalk.
He'll come back,... John always does... I hope...