I was bored. Hope you enjoy! Please leave me some constructive critisism!
"Sherlock?"
The lean figure lying on the floor groaned a little in response. His eyes were closed, finger tips touching, left sleeve rolled back to reveal three round patches.
"Are those really necessary?"
"Are what really necessary?" He turned his head, pale eyes meeting John's. "These?" He turned his head back and raised his arm.
"Yes."
"I crave mental stimulation. These are the cheapest, most convenient substitute for real work. Would you like to try one?"
"No thank you." John leaned back in his chair. He sat in silence for a moment. "What does it feel like?"
"The patches? Why don't you just try one?"
"No, the need for work."
Sherlock sighed, having obviously answered the question before. "It's exhilarating when I have something to do. It's all I can think about. I can't really explain it; it's just how I've always lived."
"If you had the chance, would you give it up?"
There was silence again. John was afraid he may have probed too far.
"No. Sometimes I think I would, but I can't imagine being any different. I have no idea how normal people survive. It must be so boring."
John chuckled to himself. He had often found himself wondering the same thing since he'd moved to Baker street.
"Do you think differently?"
He paused before he spoke again. "Not really. Every once in a while, I wonder how I got on before I met you."
The flat was quiet again. "I'm really glad I met you, Sherlock." The tall man on the floor remained motionless. John, not having expected a reaction, gathered his book from near his feet and stood. He moved towards the stairs to retreat to his bedroom.
"Thank you, John."
He turned his head back and nodded. "Thank you."
John mounted the stairs and exited the room feeling considerably better than a few moments before.