He made breakfast for two:
1. Boiled the water for one cup of tea and one cup of coffee
2. Toast the two pieces of bread and spread jam on them
He placed the tray that contains one cup of coffee and one slice of toast on the table where case files are still messily placed. Sighing, he arranged them properly to lean against the wall before he ate his breakfast while reading the papers.
Nowadays, he has learnt how to not be bothered by the coffee nor the toast getting cold before someone actually ate them. This is because most of the times, only half a cup was drunk and one or two bites would be taken from the bread.
Starting to get absorbed into the news, he didn't hear the footsteps of someone stepping into the room and picking up the toast. He snickered to himself as he flipped a page where Sherlock was once again featured with the infamous hat.
"John…"
The sound startled him, making him spill tea over the papers. Turning his head towards the direction of the voice, he realised he was looking upwards towards his flatmate who had been…dropping breadcrumbs all over his hair and now on his face.
"Sherlock! Would you mind not eating over me? I am not appreciative of the crumbs on my clothes and hair, especially hair. And now the newspaper is wet."
"John, John, this is revenge for laughing at my picture again. I think it looks better smudged like it is now."
Soon after, he felt warm large hands on his head, brushing those breadcrumbs away. The closest to an apology he could get from the one and only consulting detective in the world.