Here's the next chapter! Expect another soon!
Subject: Last night
Dear you, I thinking about you last night. I couldn't go to sleep. How are you?
Love, Sherlock
Well, well, Sherlock. What a surprise! After a brief encounter and a month of silence, I never thought you would ever write to me again. Which John are you writing to, your illusion of perfection or the shy man from the cafe, Speedy's?
Much love, John
I'm writing to the John that with a strong, firm hand brushes away imaginary Blond bangs away from his face as to actually see if I'm there with him. As if he's had this dream before where he met the mysterious E-mail sender and was so disappointed when he woke up. He carries that disappointment all through-out the day and nothing can make him happy. But then I ask myself if he's happy in his marriage.
Oh Sherlock. If I were to get an E-mail like that everyday, I would be the most happiest person in the world.
Thank you, John. But I'm sad to say that happiness is not made up of E-mails. I'll write to you later.
Love, Sherlock
...
John, I can't sleep. And I may be, correction, I am just a little bit drunk. I wanted to tell you something. I wanted to tell you that there's a point on my right hand. It's in the middle of my palm. When I so much as glance at the point, I get dizzy, it warms me, it governs my pulse. Just a tiny little point. The thing is, John, that one day in a certain cafe something happened on my right palm where the point is. My hand reached for some sugar, but it stopped in mid-air as another rougher, much older hand reached toward it at the same time. For a millisecond the rougher hand lightly touch my hand, the point, as it passed the sugar. It was just a moment of contact. I've stored it away, in my mind palace, where no one can reach it. I can feel you, John. Night John.
Sherlock, that was so amazing. How do you learn to write like that? I say you close your fist around that point, to keep it safe.
...
Subject: Five glasses of scotch
Dear Sherlock, my fifth glass of scotch wanted to know whether I am only attractive to you with alcohol in your system. Given with only with water and coffee that day in the cafe, you lost all interest in me physically. You know what I did to that fifth glass of scotch? I annihilated him. And now I am off to bed. Good night! Or rather Good morning, now.
Wow, drunken out pourings? I think that's wonderful. Expect many more, but maybe not. I don't think so. maybe three more. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! :D