Ch.7

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     Sherlock stirred a bit in his sleep as he lay his head against me. I glanced down at him, my pulse quickening. His lips looked to form a word, but he made no sound to indicate. I admired the view of a sleeping Sherlock as he shifted, his head moving down to my lap. I tensed and my breath hitched, but I relaxed, not wanting to wake my Sherlock. I tried to watch the news that had come on,curious as to what weather was soon to come,  but  was rather more distracted by the sleeping man in my lap. 

      "John.." The voice was soft and nearly inaudible. I glanced down, seeing Sherlock's eyes closed but his mouth half open. I looked back to the telly, trying to ignore the soft , sleepy voice of Sherlock. "John...." Sherlock said quietly again, followed by a soft moan. My breath caught in my throat, glancing down hesitantly. Sherlock's mouth was further open, his eyes closed a bit tighter. 

John, just wake him up. 

        I nudged Sherlock softly, his eyes immediately opening. He looked up at me, eyes widened. He stared at me for a moment, his face blank. "You fell asleep." I said, not sure what else to say. Sherlock slowly sat up, his hand brushing against my thigh as he fixated his position. His face was rather close to mine, and I turned my head. A lot closer. "Uhm-Sherlock." I started, his eyes boarding into mine. Our lips were inches apart, Sherlock's eyes now sleepy and half-aware. It seemed he got closer- "I'm going to wash this muck off my face." He said rather loudly, gesturing to the makeup on his face. He quickly jumped off the couch, going to the bathroom. I blinked a few times, trying to figure out what had just happened. 

    He's just Sherlock. He probably hadn't realized how close he was. 

     I mentally tried to convince myself of this, not noticing the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs until the door creaked open. Just as Mrs.Hudson walked in on the other side, Sherlock stepped out of the hall. He froze, eyes widened. I gestured frantically for him to go back, him quietly retrieving. My breath was still hitched in my throat as Mrs.Hudson came into the living area. "Watson?" She called. "Oh, hello Mrs.Hudson!" I called, getting up off the couch. "Hello, deary. I was just checking up on you." Since the fall, Mrs.Hudson regularly checked up on me with reassuring smiles and sometimes a treat from her shop. "I'm great," I said, More than you would guess. "How's the hip?" I asked. She patted her hip, laughing softly. "Oh, this old thing?" I chuckled as she did. "Well, I was just checking up-I'll be out again for a bit." She looked around the flat for a moment, her eyes sad as they landed on Sherlock's skull. 

   Silence fell over before she started up again, "Well. I'll be on my way, take care of yourself." She said, patting me on the shoulder lightly before making her way out. I gave a small 'Goodbye', watching as she closed the door behind her. A few moments later, Sherlock returned. His face was clean of the makeup he had on before, his nose tinged pink from washing.  "Why would Mrs.Hudson  go out at an hour like this?"  Asked Sherlock. I pulled up my sweater sleeve, checking the time on my watch, 9:02. "I think she's seeing someone." I said, sitting back down on the couch. "She's been going out late the past couple of weeks." 

    "Obviously." I gave him a look, "Why would you ask then?" His lips curved to a smile. "I needed a second input."  Of course. 

       "Are you hungry?" I asked, feeling my own hunger grow. "Chinese." He said without hesitation.

        After ordering (and Sherlock picking nearly everything on the menu) We awaited for the delivery to come. I noticed Sherlock staring at something, looking in the direction questionably.I I hadn't noticed until he took wide strides towards it, picking it up ever so gently. His violin. He drew his fingers over the strings, leaning it against his chest as though he would play. But he couldn't. It saddened me to see him look at it so longingly, knowing he couldn't play it without neighbours hearing. The room was in an odd silence until the delivery came. It feels like we're not saying as much as we should be. It felt...Odd. I didn't know what to say and whatever Sherlock had in mind, he wouldn't say aloud. 

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