Love is a Mystery (A JohnLock Fanfic)

-Chapter 6-

John's POV

After Sherlock looked at the scars, and recent red cuts on my hand, his expression changed from sad, to surprised. He backed up from me, and bent over his 'grave', and picked up the gift, but quickly walked off.

"Holmes!" I yelled, and he quickly turned around, walking to me.

"I have a name John." I bit my lip. He was alive, so I suppose I could say his name now... No, its been too long. I need to gain his trust back first.

"If its alright with you, Holmes, I would like to call you that until I can trust you again."

His face fell, but quickly gained his expression again, nodding. He turned on his heel, and waved at me to follow, while walking to the street.

The taxi ride felt awkward, not talking at all. I caught him looking at me a few times, until he gave up and looked out the window. When I started staring at him, I knew he knew, but he didn't wish to stop it, so I continued to.

He is so lovely. His eyes are such an intense shade of blue, and his curly hair falls over his forehead perfectly and-

I found myself admiring his features. My heart fluttered when I looked at him like this, I tried to ignore it, but it just wouldn't stop. I admired him until we reached 221b Baker street.

Sherlock walked throught the front door slowly, taking in everything.

I felt a smile tug at the corner of my mouth when Mrs. Hudson and him hugged, tears running down her face. She was about to tell her about me, but I quickly cut her off, asking her to go get the shopping. She agreed, and left.

When Sherlock swung open the door to our flat, he was surprised. I did keep everything remarkibly (A/N: I realise that is spelled wrong, sorry, I have no spell check.)

the same. Not a thing was moved, apart from nessecary stuff of course, but other than that, nothing.

All of Sherlock's files remained on his desk, cluttered. The skull, Billy I believe it was, has gathered some dust. The microscope was still on the kitchen tabl, including all of the other scientific stuff, sadly (no, I lied, gladly) having to throw out the eyes, thumbs, and that head.

Sherlock moved around the flat carefully, not wanting to disturb anything.

"Wow, looks just how I left it." He whispered.

"Yeah, I didn't let anyone touch anything. As time went on, I didn't let many people into the flat anymore, just Mrs. Hudson of course."

He looked to me, and frowned, but quickly replaced it with another forced smile.

Why was he forcing it? forget it.

I moved closer to him quickly, in two strides.

"So, do you think... you'll still live here... with-with me?" I felt my cheeks warm, although I wished they hadn't, it made Sherlock smile.

"Obviously so." He simply responded.

He looked around the living room again, while I sat back in my chair, suddenly finding myself looking at his chair.

God, his chair.

I remember cold nights, just spending hours staring at it, trying to imagine him sitting in it.

My heart felt cracked, but somehow found a way to stay together with simple duct tape and glue.

I clutched my heart, hoping that the pain would go away soon. He's back now, it should be gone! I shouted in my head.

"Please excuse me Sherlock." I said, standing. He turned from searching to look at me.

"Whats wrong John?" He had worry in his eyes.

"Nothing, I'm just a little tired is all. Don't worry about me so much Sherlock."

He nodded, and let me by him, so I could go to my room.

I'll make the pain go away.

Opening the door to my room, I quickly shut it, and went for my dresser. I pulled out the all too familular army blade I used to use.

The pain will go away.