You left your jumper hanging over the back of your chair. I pick it up. Press it to my face. Feel the rough wool tickling my nostrils as I breathe in the scent of you. It is better than any drug.
I know it is ridiculous and I know that I should not get involved and I know that feelings do not matter. I know that sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side. I know that you love Mary and there is nothing, nothing I can do to change that.
But you have pulled me in, John Watson. Pulled me in with your smiles, your bravery, your acceptance. I know this is ridiculous, but I think I love you.
I think I love you, John.