Sherlock watched the smaller body, with a fascination he'd never had before. He was completely unaware of his hand moving back and forth on John's blonde head. He just stared at the boy as he relaxed. He became aware that his shirt was clutched in John's fists. Normally, he would have been appalled at such a rumpling of his shirt, but at this moment all he cared about was John.
"You can let go when you're ready," Sherlock said, hoping John would never be ready.
"O-ok," John had whispered.
But he didn't let go. He hung on tight to Sherlock and Sherlock loved it. He could feel John's heart beat and breath. He could smell the citrus shampoo that John used and the ordinary deodorant that he applied lightly. There wasn't much to this boy, but Sherlock found every detail intriguing and wonderful. He heard John's breath becoming deeper and steadier. He's falling asleep, Sherlock thought. Then, before he could stop himself, he leaned down and pressed his lips to John's head. He saw John smile lightly and could tell he was about to completely fall asleep. John's hands relaxed and slithered down Sherlock's torso. Sherlock shivered, as something sparked inside of him. Suddenly, he felt pleasantly warm all over. He decided he liked the feeling.
When John woke up the next morning he expected to feel warm. He expected to feel Sherlock holding him. But he didn't, because some time during the night, Sherlock had laid him down and gotten up. He shivered at the lack of warmth and curled up into a ball. Why did I think he would be here? John scolded himself for being stupid and rolled out of bed.
"Good morning, John," Sherlock's baritone voice made him jump.
"Ah! O-oh," John blushed furiously, "G-good morning, Sh-sherlock."
Sherlock didn't look up from his large, dusty looking book. John peeked at the cover and only saw ornate drawings in golden ink. He walked up behind Sherlock and read over his bony shoulder.
"A connection may be made with a human. This connection has only been known as a Link. Little is known about Links as few vampires are willing to share details. However, it is known that when a link is formed, the vampire will feel a warmth spread through them. The first time this happens, the vampire will have helped the human in some way and then locked eyes with them. At this point the heat will fill the vampire up to the point of breathlessness. If the Link is also accompanied with a Compassion Link, then it will be even stronger. The vampire will feel compelled to do anything they think is necessary to make the human happy. There is rumor that if the human rejects the vampire, the vampire will cease to exist. Though this has not been confirmed, it is known that this will be the strongest force to the vampire. The vampire will have no will to fight the human and will have to do anything they feel necessary for the human. If the Link is not accompanied with the Compassion Link, the vampire will still feel strongly motivated to help the human in any way possible. However, the force is less strong…"
Suddenly, the book snapped closed and John jumped violently. Sherlock was looking at him with one eyebrow raised. John stumbled backwards, away from Sherlock.
"S-sorry," John sputtered, "I w-was just c-curious what y-you were r-reading."
"No need to be sorry," Sherlock said, soothingly, "It's just some vampiric mythology that I'm reading up on."
He got up and adjusted his shirt, brushing away some invisible dirt.
"D-do y-you h-have one?" John could barely control the words.
"Have one what?" Sherlock questioned.
"A L-link," John gestured to the book.
"Links are very rare, John," Sherlock stated, "Hurry and get ready. We have classes."
John obeyed Sherlock, quickly showering a dressing. He wondered why Sherlock hadn't answered his question. Maybe he does have one and he's embarrassed, john thought. He shrugged. Sounded like a vampire thing. He quickly joined Sherlock back in their room.
"Ready?" Sherlock cocked his head at John.
"Y-yes," John nodded.
They grabbed their bookbags and left quietly. John wasn't really sure where they were going, but Sherlock seemed to know, so he just followed him. Neither said anything as John tried to keep up with Sherlock's incredibly long strides. When they did arrive at their first class, Sherlock abruptly stopped and John almost kept going.
"I had the administration make our classes the same," Sherlock informed him, "So that I can be there if you have an attack."
"O-oh," John wasn't sure what to say, "Th-thanks."
Sherlock glanced at him and then swiftly opened the classroom door. He breezed, into the room, leading John to the very back. He sat with a thump in the farthest chair on the right and gestured for John to sit in the empty seat next to him. John sat quietly placing his bag on the floor.
They had arrived long before class was supposed to start, so they were left to sit quietly with their thoughts as the room slowly filled with students. Sherlock pulled out the big, dusty book and set to reading, leaving John to stare into space having thoughtless time. He was grateful to have this time to do and think nothing. However, it was short lived as he heard his name being called.
"John Watson," came a gruff, nervous voice.
"Wh-what?" John startled out of his trance.
He looked up to see the three rugby players from yesterday standing in a huddle near his desk. They were all shuffling nervously, their gazes flitting to John's right and back to John. He shrank back in his chair wondering what they could possibly want. He noticed that it looked like they'd been in a fight. The middle one had his arm in a sling and had a black eye. He also had a pretty nasty looking cut on his lip. Furthermore it looked like his ribs were hurting him. The other two sported similar bruises and cuts, but didn't seem as beat up as Drake.
"We're sorry," Drake stated.
"Wh-wh-wh," John took a breath, "Wh-what?"
"We're sorry for yesterday," Drake glanced over to John's right again, "We realize how wrong it was of us to do such a thing. We apologize and if there is anything we can do for you, let us know."
The two goons nodded at John, solemnly, confirming Drake's story.
"O-o-ok," John mumbled.
The boys looked to John's right and then turned around and walked to their seats. They sat down and didn't look back to John again. John couldn't help but stare in confusion. Why would they do that? He pondered. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Humans were so confusing. He sighed, wishing he could just have a normal life. Maybe a nice, unsucky life, he mused. He shrugged and laid his head on the desk, no use wishing for what you can't have.
Little note: I know I usually have more space between updates, but I had to get this chapter out. Please review! It means a lot to me and all other authors for that matter. Thanks for your continued support!