Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the content and do not take profit from it, purely for your entertainment 3
Sherlock was getting very bored, very quickly. He had already made at least a dozen smiley faces like the ones on the wall at 221B Baker Street around the house he was staying at. The dozens of shots through them would need to be fixed before the owners came home.
Then the day came, the day his plan would take place, exactly a month after his 'death'. To the rest of the world it was the same as any other day, but not to Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock hadn't slept a wink the night before so that there was no chance that he could miss the day that would change his life, or at least give him a life. He kept himself wired on coffee not just to help him stay awake, because it did that anyway, but so that he was alert for every tiny detail. He never wanted to forget this.
Today is THE day Sherlock thought to himself there is no turning back now.
He grabbed some clothes from one of the wardrobes that he was making great use of, he wouldn't wear any of the houses' owner's clothes of course, for starters they were both women, partners he presumed. Sherlock had brought a good collection of clothes from the surrounding shops they were only cheap clothes but he had managed to get his hands on some of his old clothes through the use of internet cafe's, a copy of his coat was the most difficult to get his hands on, and the most expensive.
Today he was wearing an outfit the exact replica of one of his previous ones- purple silk shirt, black fitted suit, shiny black shoes, grey coat and blue scarf. Sherlock hadn't warn anything that resembled his old self since his 'death' in case he was seen, but today he wanted to be seen, by one set of eyes in particular.
Sherlock stepped into the shower, Sherlock was very thankful that there was a working shower in the house, he had no idea what he would have done if there wasn't. Sherlock usually felt out of place using the shower but today he felt different.
He felt a little more alive.
Sherlock had felt so odd for the past month. It was as if he really was dead and was just floating about watching the world go by. It was as if something was missing and it didn't take a genius to guess what that was.
Sherlock could think of nothing but John, he missed him so incredibly much. Sherlock had never missed anything so much, then again he'd never really had anything to miss before.
Sherlock missed the sound of John's laughter, he missed John's moaning, he missed John's amazing smile, he missed John's eyes, his skin, his clothes, his knitted jumpers and most of all he missed John's amazingly comforting homely smell.
Even though Sherlock saw John out of the window twice every day it was not the same, John did not see him.
Today that would all change.
Sherlock couldn't eat anything. He felt like he used to felt on the morning before going back to school after a holiday only a hundred times worse.
He was nervous.
Sherlock turned on the TV, it had taken Sherlock a few hours to guess the TV's pin but the owners had been rather obvious when Sherlock thought about it. For the first week Sherlock only played it on mute and tried to be as quite as possible in the house but it soon became obvious that the woman who lived in the house next door was deaf, meaning Sherlock could have the tv as loud as he wanted it and could fire as many shots from his gun as he needed to. He missed his violin though and often wondered what had come of it.
The house was a new two bedroomed property, it was way too clean, very cramped and tiny and was neutral colour themed it had absolutely no personality. It was the exact opposite of 221B and Sherlock hated it.
Sherlock glanced at the time on the news 8.05 am. He watched the news for ten minutes there was nothing out of the ordinary only an overturned boat and global warming, boring. Sherlock sprayed on some cologne he had taken this with him from 221B beforehand he'd left an empty bottle of it there just in case John snooped and saw it was missing as this would only cause suspicions.
Sherlock left the house, he wanted to be there early rather than be late, he wouldn't miss this for the world.
Sherlock walked into the graveyard imagining how John must be feeling right now, it gave him an unsettling feeling in his stomach.
What if he doesn't come, what if he's decided it's time to stop?