It was the middle of the night when I woke up. No. The morning. The very early hours of the morning. I couldn't sleep. Again. And for once, Sherlock was fast asleep. I crept as quiet and stealthily as I could down the stairs so I wouldn't disturb him. It was the first time he had slept in days and he needed it.
I passed his room on the way down and his door was wide open, a rare but seemingly more often reoccurance. He slept so calmly. So peaceful. Angelic. It was a wide contrast from when he was madly running around the city. I watched for a few moments, hypnotized, as his chest rose and fell at a steady pace. I felt my mouth turn up into a smile as I turned away.
YOU ARE READING
Dear John
FanfictionOne night, when John can't sleep, he stumbles upon old letters Sherlock has written. What will he discover?... (Complete)
