Sherlock was slouched on the couch when I got home from work. I could tell by the new holes in the wall that he was extremely bored today. I hate it when he shoots the wall when he gets like this. I took a seat in my chair and tapped my fingers against the soft arm chair.
"Sherlock, there hasn't been a single case for weeks." I stated.
"I know," mumbled Sherlock, annoyed that I was stating the obvious.
"Go do something fun!" I offered.
"Like what?" Sherlock striated up a little trying to deduce what I had in mind.
"I don't know, hang out with some fr-" I had realized my mistake and cut myself off. Sherlock always hid his emotions, though I could see through his mask that I had hurt him.
"You and I both know that I don't have any, John." He said.
"I don't know why though," I murmured, shifting in my seat.
"What do you mean by that?" I could see that I had clearly confused him.
That was a first...
I should have known he would hear my quiet mumble. I stumbled for words not knowing what I meant myself.
"Um... Well, everyone says that you are a selfish psychopath but I don't see it. You are extremely intelligent, extraordinary, mysterious, adventurous, and a lot more. I mean like, that's why I lo-" I cut myself off, shocked at what I was just about say. I didn't even know I felt this way about him and now I just blurted it out to him! I could feel all the blood draining from my face as I saw the complete shock on Sherlock's face. I wanted to run, hide in a corner, and never come out. I ran towards the door like a coward but Sherlock grabbed my wrist and pushed me so I was facing him. I dared not to look at him. Though when I could feel his heart beating faster than usual and his sweet perfume –like breath surrounding me, I had to look up. The expression on his face was like nothing I have ever seen before, and most certainly not on Sherlock's face.
"Now then," he said, "What were you saying?"
Still grabbing my wrist, he pulled me into him until his perfect lips pressed so lovingly on mine. Chills ran down my spine as he kissed me. I wrapped my hand around his waist as the other played in his hair. Sherlock's hands found my face and held me in a lovely embrace. I was so close to him that I could feel every muscle in his body move as we kissed. But it wasn't enough; I wanted to be closer to that amazing detective.
"Oh god I love you," I managed to say between kisses, my lips finding his again.
"I love you too," he replied, his long, perfect fingers ruffling my hair.
I never want this moment to end. I want to stay in this bubble forever, with him. This single moment in time I felt more at home than I ever have felt in my whole life. Though of course, this was real life and this moment had to end, and I knew that. But when Sherlock's phone beeped and his soft lips pulled away to read his text, I yearned for him. I yearned for the gentle pressure of his hands on the small of my back, his eyes looking at me in that remarkable way…
"It's, Lestrade" he explained, "He needs us at the police station." He walked over to the door, nudged his jacket on, and arranged his blue scarf.
"Aren't you coming? I might need my blogger," He winked at me.
"You will always need your blogger," I smiled a warming smile, walking up to him and looking deeply into his strong, emerald eyes. He took me by the hand and I slid our fingers together to make one perfect harmony. We walked out into the hallway to approach our next adventure, together.
