Author's Note: Back again with a little bit of angst for you :P
Sherlock let out a growl of frustration. Whenever he tried to concentrate on something, thoughts of a certain ex-army doctor would always stubbornly remain. He had tried many times to slam the door to the room labeled "John" in his mind palace, but he could never properly manage it. It was then that he made up his mind.
He was going to tell John how he felt.
Sherlock wasn't one for sentimentality; he would get straight to the point. Sherlock started to pace as he figured things out. He quickly lost track of time, immersed in his own thoughts. So immersed in fact, that he missed a text from John.
Going out with Mary, don't wait up. –JW
By the time Sherlock had put together what he would say it was very late. Just as he began to wonder where John was he was shocked as the man in question came tumbling through the door, a woman firmly attached to his lips. They made their way into the room, Sherlock frozen to the spot. John spotted him and broke away from the woman, grinning.
"We'll just be upstairs." he said. The woman giggled and they left.
That was when Sherlock made another decision. He would keep his ridiculous, clearly unreciprocated emotions where they ought to be, deep inside his heart, buried.
Author's Note: Reviews and the like are, as always, appreciated! :D