Title: Nothing To Say
Word Count: 233
Prompt: Inadequate
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Because it's difficult, living with a genius.
Author's Note: I thought that, realistically, if anyone were to live with a character like Sherlock, there'd be moments of not feeling good enough. So, I wrote my first 'angst'-ish vignette. Hope you enjoy.
Nothing To Say.
The flat is still, silent, and the air smells of experiments, books, and Earl Grey. John isn't quite sure what to say of it, because the flat is rarely silent and his roommate rarely still. Feet bare and toes like crippling ice in the cold morning, he stands partially in the doorway, hearing pages rustle from within the dimly-lit room. Some part of his mind, tells him to watch and remain quiet, and he follows the thought without thinking.
Sherlock reads haphazardly, sprawled across the sofa in a way that shouldn't be elegant but is, his book hanging a little too close to his nose. His eyes are flickering, absorbing the knowledge and sorting it into his fantastic mind with a pure and childlike joy. His free hand dances by his side, as though impatient to learn what the book has to offer.
John can't help but stare now; Sherlock is startlingly stunning in this unguarded moment he's created for himself. The air around Sherlock crackles with genius, the silence tauntingly whispering words too complex and theories too convoluted for John, even as a medical man, to fathom.
The trembling inadequacy surges in him, freezing his movements, shivering as it begins at the pads of his fingertips and clenches around his heart - He has nothing to say to a man like this.
Hoping Sherlock does not hear his movements, John slips away.