Chapter 2

Sherlock was waiting in the reception of the St. Bart's Hospital, clutching his left arm with his hand. John soon sat down beside him with a pen and form in his hand,

"Right, they said we have to fill this form in and then you'll be seen by a doctor to get an X-ray." John explained, writing in all the blank spaces for Sherlock.

"Name, Sherlock Jay Holmes. Sex, male. Occupation, Consulting Detective. Blood type, A. Injury, Dislocated left arm. Allergies, Kiwis…" John mumbled to himself as he quickly wrote, hardly needing to ask Sherlock to answer any on the questions, which made Sherlock rather surprised, and impressed.

"John, I didn't know you knew so much about me just on-hand.. " He said, glancing at John's well-written handwriting and then at John himself, which made him turn away embarrassingly.

"Well, of course I do," He explained quietly, "I mean, why wouldn't I? We live together, so of course I know a lot about you…"

Sherlock was about to say something else, but John had just finished filling in the form and stood up,

"I'll be right back, just got to hand this in…" He muttered, quickly walking away.

Sherlock sighed as he watched John walk back to the reception desk, there was something about John that made him wonder, he wasn't like other people; He was much more understanding than 'certain' people, he was bravely loyal, always jumping in to save Sherlock from being killed.

'He's kind, too,' Sherlock thought, not taking his eyes off him, 'Not just kind, he's also sweet, wonderful, a perfect partner… And adorable as well…'

He then shook his head and tried to block out the thoughts, whenever he let his mind trail it always lead to John, no matter what he was thinking of before, but they weren't just regular thoughts of his room-mate, just thinking of John made his heart beat a little faster or made his stomach go fluttery. Sometimes he couldn't even speak straight, and it didn't take long for his brother to notice the same thing when he visited him the other day when John was at work.

"It's obvious you're in love with him," Mycroft told his younger brother, who was just gazing out the window, "You have to tell him somehow, if he's survived living with you for this long, then he clearly thinks very highly of you."

"I don't love him, Mycroft," Sherlock growled, not even looking at him, "And what I do with my life is really none of your business, whether you're my brother or not."

"You'll regret it if you don't," Mycroft retorted, ignoring Sherlock's last comment, "What if he gives up of waiting and moves on to love someone else?.."

Sherlock didn't reply, he just continued to stare out the window, thinking. As much as he would hate to admit it, Mycroft was right, but how would he tell John? What if he didn't feel the same way? Would he be able to stay with Sherlock if he knew how he felt? In hi mind, John was too… Perfect… To risk losing. He could feel the tips of his ears burning and Mycroft staring at him,

"See? You're blushing just thinking about him! Do you even notice the way he looks at you? It's now or never, Sherlock. Either you tell him, or I tell him myself…"

"…Sherlock? Sherlock!" A voice exclaimed, snapping Sherlock back into reality. John was looking at him with confusion,

"You were just staring in to space for a moment, anyway, the doctor's ready to see you now…"

Sherlock just nodded and stood up, still holding his arm. He didn't speak in case his voice would crack, that would be the last thing he needed. John walked beside him as they went to the Doctor's room together, but John stayed outside,

"I'll just wait for you here, call me if you need anything."

Sherlock nodded again before entering the room, when the door slammed shut John gave out an exhausted sigh and lent his back against the wall,

"He's never going to leave my mind…" He whispered quietly under his breath, rubbing his eyes, "Why, out of every person I know, must I fall for Sherlock Holmes?.."