John knows he screwed up.
Mom's totally pissed that they seem to keep moving dates around involving the Sherlock S2 release. She went to the gym to go burn off steam when I told her it may have shifted a week later.
At Fault
John brooded until closing time. What had happened to make Sherlock so…off?
His classmates? he wondered. No, they seemed friendly enough, and Sherlock been looking at him strangely. So it's my fault.
He sighed on the walk home, remembering his days fighting with Harry. It was a bittersweet memory; he missed times where their fights were petty, like who got to watch their program on the telly.
The rain pounded viciously against his umbrella and his mind jerked guiltily to Sherlock, imagining his poor flatmate walking back in the storm, curls and clothes dripping. It made his heart ache.
Prompt was #57: bittersweet