The next couple of days are absolutely miserable. I don't want to move or eat, and I can't even sleep without seeing his face.

Sherlock isn't here- and it's making me sick.

He doesn't show up to school the rest of the week. No one knows where he went. I asked my chemistry teacher where he might be, but he hasn't heard from Sherlock's parents at all.

I'm starting to get worried.

I wake up Sunday morning and check my email. 'Nothing interesting, as usual…' I think, until I see an email titled, 'John' sitting in my inbox. The sender is titled 'ScienceofDeduction243', so I assume it's Sherlock. My heart leaps in my chest. 'How did he get my email? Never mind.. it's him!' I think, excitedly.

The email reads:

John,

I need to talk to you.

Meet me at the park by your house.

Now, please.

-SH

I quickly put on jeans and a t-shirt, heart pounding frantically and almost painfully against my ribcage. I run out my front door and sprint to the park. I see Sherlock leaning against the lonely lamppost. The sun hasn't risen yet, so I shiver as I approach him.

"Sherlock?"

He turns toward me, and stays silent as I walk closer and closer. The sun has barely risen, and the sky is pink and yellow. I hear every crunch of gravel under my feet as I get even closer.

Sherlock still hasn't said anything.

"Sherlock… Are you okay?"

When I am close enough, Sherlock takes my hand in both of his. I turn red at the touch. 'His hands are so warm…'

"John…"

His voice is so deep.

"…yes?"

"I can't stop thinking about you… About.. this…"

"Sherlock…"

"I thought about this endlessly these past five days… I needed to hold your hand again… I don't know why… I haven't been able to think about anything else but you…"

"Sherlock… I've been worried sick about you."

"You… were worried?"

"Of course. When you didn't show up to school, I was worried that something happened to you… I thought I did something wrong-"

"You could never do anything wrong, John."

"Sherlock… Without you there I felt… sick."

"You…" He laces our fingers together and leads me to a bench. I shiver again, and Sherlock pulls me closer to him.

"John… I don't know what I feel about you. But… I need you in my life. I can't explain it… I've never felt this way about anyone before…"

I don't say anything, and neither does he. We sit and watch the sunrise together. Eventually, I realize that I have to go back home.

"Sherlock… Promise me that you will come back to school tomorrow. I… don't think I could stand it if you didn't."

"I will."

'I don't want to let go…'

We stand up slowly. I don't know what I feel about this boy, but I feel like this is the start of something beautiful. We've only known each other for a couple days, but it feels like an eternity. We've only spoken a couple times… but.. even so… Looking into his eyes then seals it for me. His eyes… They are oceans of pure blue.. I can see the raw emotion in them, they convey more than words can express. They tell me that there is a deeper story, a sadder story, behind them. I can tell Sherlock has been through hell, but it has made him the person he is now. It has made him beautiful. I don't know why he has chosen me, but I will try my absolute best to make this wonderful for him.

I find his other hand, and link our fingers together. I am standing right in front of him. 'He's so tall…' I think.

"I'm cold.." I say.

"John…"

I lean my head against his chest. 'He smells nice…' I think. I can feel him rest his chin on top of my head.

"I have to go, Sherlock…"

"I know. But… I don't want you to go…"

"You could come to my house." I suggest.

"This early?"

"Yes. Sherlock.. I want to ask you questions. I want to know everything about you. I want to know all your favorite things, your family, your past… Everything…"

"John. You don't want anything to do with me.. I'm broken…"

"I don't care."

"John… Oh, John…"

"Come home with me."

"Okay."

'I used to think I wasn't gay…'

I was brought up by parents who thought being gay was an abomination. A disgrace. They thought that it was something that could be cured- something that could be taken away. I personally didn't think so. You were born with it. Sure, I like girls, and that's what I was brought up to like. It's what my parents considered normal. It was socially acceptable.. But…

'I used to think I was straight.'

I considered being bi. I considered everything. Except...

'What am I now?'