Sherlock furrowed his brow, barely understanding that John was getting divorced.
"And why would she do that? She must have…loved you to marry you."
He said, the words sounding foreign on his tongue.
John shrugged and turned back to the kettle once it had boiled, making their tea like he used to. Something felt odd to John and he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"It doesn't matter, Sherlock. Okay? It's happened and I can't do anything to change it."
"Well it does matter if it is upsetting you so much, you are trembling."
Sherlock pointed out with ease, noticing the slight tremor in John's shoulders and hand. John let out a small huff, clenching his fists and tensing his body slightly to stop himself shaking.
"Just leave it, Sherlock!"
John snapped, pitching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep, soothing breath. He didn't know why he was getting so wound up, Sherlock was only looking out for him and he guessed that was a lot from Sherlock seen as the other didn't show that much emotion.
Sherlock just grumbled something and walked into the living room, a few minutes later the sound of gunshots could be heard echoing through the flat as Sherlock shot a new drawing into the wall.
John walked into the living room after half an hour; he'd needed some time to calm down so he didn't end up punching Sherlock again.
Sherlock was flopped in his armchair, just like he always used to be, and was twanging the strings of his violin.
The new gunshot drawing in the wall was placed just next to the first one made by Sherlock all those years ago, it was a sad face which made John roll his eyes.
He passed Sherlock the cup of tea but Sherlock reached out and grabbed his left hand, turning it over from one side to the other and examining it closely for some reason unknown to John.
But one thing he did know was that his heart fluttered at that gentle touch of skin, that feel of Sherlock's smooth finge-
He was cut off by Sherlock pulling away and taking his tea, beginning to sip it as he drifted off into deep thought and became completely oblivious to John's now flustered state.
John awkwardly shuffled over to his own armchair, his face bright red but the butterflies in his stomach were beginning to settle and his pounding heart was calming.
This could not be true; he would not believe this was happening. No. He was not falling for his flatmate who had supposedly been dead for the past three years. It could not happen. It would not happen.
Thank you for all the great comments so far! It's nice to see people enjoying the story. So this is the sixth chapter, I am aiming to get John and Sherlock together in chapter ten. Thank you once again. D-D x