A short Johnlock fic - reviews are very welcome.
Disclaimer – I do not own Sherlock
My Dearest John
Three days had passed since Sherlock had fallen. John sat on the floor of his flatmates bedroom with his friend's dressing gown wrapped around his shoulders, utterly exhausted from crying. He had searched through Sherlock's things for some sort of answer to his death and in the process had found a letter addressed to him.
My dearest John,
I have no idea how to write this letter – so here goes.
Every single day of my life has been a lie – I forced myself to believe that I was incapable of love and such frivolous feelings, but lately, I am starting to doubt my own assumptions.
I believed that my mind could only be described as a machine and that "normal" human thoughts were far from my capability. I decided that I was created to help solve mysteries and deduce truths … but lately all I seem to do is stop and think of you.
I have been unable to concentrate on any cases for weeks as you confuse me - completely!
Instead of focusing on the evidence, I simply study you! I have watched your every movement and that most fervently. I have even memorised the lines on your face and I love the way they crease around your eyes when you chide me for my constant experimenting.
I find these thoughts entirely confusing.
You must forgive me for the way I have conducted myself in your company recently – I am utterly at a loss as how to behave in your company anymore and therefore have been treating you awfully. I snap at you for no reason, refuse to acknowledge your presence and on occasion I have even pushed you away physically and mentally.
My confusion about US clouds my judgement. What are we – friends or something more?
I researched the definition of love from so many different sources but still I am at a complete loss.
I always thought that love was a chemical defect – an imperfection if you wish and I believed that I would never allow myself to experience it. Unfortunately since that day at St Bart's, when I looked up from the microscope, being somewhat imperfect didn't seem so bad.
Where should I go from here?
Should I tell you that I may be falling in love with you?
Will that scare you, make you run away and leave me desolate?
I have only just found you and I'm not ready to lose you – you make me a better man. I think I should just stay quiet and hope the feelings subside, especially as you introduced me to yet another lady friend-today. You brought her to our home.
Please don't think that I'm being bitter, I want to give this one a chance – but every time you touch her arm or tuck her hair behind her ear I get jealous and imagine what your touch would feel like.
I have tried deleting these feelings from my mind palace but it seems that it is entirely impossible. You inhabit almost all acres within it – and therefore I believe that this must be love.
Although it sounds cliché – I love you and wish you everything you could ever want.
I will make it my mission to protect you and care for you no matter what the consequences and for that very reason I will never give you this letter. You deserve to be happy and I am fully aware that I am entirely insufferable.
I will love you always.
Your Sherlock x
