A/N: How's the end of the world going for you all? Holding up alright?
I'm leaving on a long trip tomorrow. I'll wake up at 4am and my family and I will start driving for about 15 hours straight. Lovely.
Anyways, I'm going to try to type up tomorrow's chapter today and post it at 4am. If I can't, I'll post it next time I'm in wi-fi, which could be anytime between now and Christmas. I'll have every chapter ready and will post them once I have a few minutes in wi-fi.
Also, to the request of more Sherlock torture- that'll be next chapter. I have a plan for something happening in each chapter, and it'll work with tomorrow's. Onwards!
The next day, it was snowing really hard. The soft flakes covered every surface and coated London in a soft white blanket. John had both of them bundle up for the cold, and pushed Sherlock outside.
Laughing childishly, John opened his mouth and let the snowflakes fall onto his tongue. Sherlock watched him with a raised eyebrow, wondering what the heck John was doing.
"John, why are acting so childish?"
"Because it's fun, Sherlock! Ever heard of it?"
As Sherlock huffed and turned to go inside, he felt something wet hit the back of his coat. As he turned to see what it was, another snowball hit him right on the face.
John clutched his stomach in laughter at the look on Sherlock face. Looking away was a mistake, however, as a snowball hit him right on the nose. The cold slush slid down his face and into his jacket.
And thus began the Great-Snowball-Battle-of-Sherlock-Holmes-and-John-Watson,-Men-But-Not-Really. This continued for about an hour before John fell to the ground, thoroughly soaked.
Sherlock lay beside him and took John's hand. He gazed into John's eyes, noticing some of the snowflakes had stuck to John's eyelashes.
John looked up as Sherlock took his hand. They gazed at each other for a moment, before John said, "Come on, let's go inside. I'm freezing."
They got up and went inside 221B, still clutching each other's hands tightly.