The Prince - Johnlock

7

As the sun finally made it into the middle of the sky, Sherlock was still sitting on the old beat up couch. Still reading the daily paper.

But this time John was standing right next to him. 

An eerie silence stretched on between the two. One that could be broken. They just choose not to. 

Which is rather strange when you think about it. 

After a while of the silence, Sherlock decided that it was rather boring. So he turned to his guard. 

"What's your name again?", he questioned as he finally put down the daily paper. 

"John".

"John what?".

John shifted on his feet a little. 

"John Watson".

"... Well John Watson. I am incredibly bored", Sherlock announced. And with this he dramaticly fell onto the couch. As if he fainted. 

John had to stifle a laugh. It was somewhat amusing to see a prince act like such a child. 

"But there had to be something interesting in the paper. Like marriage or something like that I presume", John offered. 

Sherlock huffed. 

"Nothing is interesting anymore. And you aren't interesting either! You are as open as a book. At least my old guard was kind of a mystery, you know before he was speared to death...", Sherlock pouted. 

John tilted his head a little at this. He didn't bat an eye at the death part. He was more confused about being an open book part.

"What do you mean I am an open book?", John asked. 

Sherlock looked up at him with a coy smile on his face. 

John felt his face heat up a little at that look.

It was so... what was the word he was looking for?

"Oh Watson, you are an idiot", Sherlock teased as he let out a very fake laugh along with a very fake smile.

John's heated face then turned cold. 

That was the word. 

Utterly infuriating.