Hey guys sorry I took so long to update! Luckily my Xmas holidays start in 3 days so after that I will probably be constantly updating because I am so sad that I have nothing else to do! (Not that I mind or anything...) So hope you like and please review, and to any who already have, I love you!
Later that night, Irene was curled up on the sofa, wrapped in layers of blankets, holding a steaming cup of tea, courtesy of John. John was sat next to her, making sure he didn't invade her personal space, but she had snuggled into him, and he had eventually put his arm around her. It felt good. Sherlock had gone into his room, probably bored and annoyed that John's attention had been turned to someone else, which rarely happened. John and Irene sat in a comfortable silence, appreciating each other's presence.
"Irene?"
"Yes John?" Irene smiled up at him. He smiled back.
"Can I ask a question?"
"Anything John."
"Who was chasing you?"
Irene's beautiful eyes filled with fear and John immediately regretted asking the question.
"Moriarty."
That one word made John bristle and his insides filled with cold fear and hatred. He despised that evil man with a hateful passion. Couldn't he just hurry up and die that scum bag bastard...
"John? John?" Irene cried. John realised he had gone tense, eyes glazed over with hate.
"Sorry, sorry. Why is he after you?"
Irene winced. John stroked her arm.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"He wants me." Irene closed her eyes. John was shocked.
"He wants... you? You mean you personally?"
"Yes. Surpirsed?"
"Not really, I mean you're so beautif..." Irene looked at him. "I mean I can see why he would be attracted to you."
"I hate him." Irene's beautiful blue eye filled with a terrifying combination of fear and hate.
"I promise I will never let him touch you."
Irene smiled, looking up at him. "You're so good to me John. Thank you." Then much to John's surprise she leant forward and pecked him on the cheek. It was brief, but John's limbs melted like butter. No woman had ever had this effect on him before. Never. He grinned at her, and she grinned back. John thought he had never smiled so much in his life before. He'd never had anything really to smile about. Irene lent back into him, burying her face deep into his shoulder. It was only when her body began to rise gently and evenly did John realise she had fallen asleep on him. Smiling inwardly to himself, he found for the second time that night carrying Irene gently upstairs, cradling her sparrow body in his steady arms, where he gently laid her on his bed, tucking under the sheets and duvet, being careful not to wake her.
Closing the door to his room, he smiled again to himself. Life was getting much, much better.
