Chains (Johnlock)

Chapter 13

Sherlock's P.O.V.

Things were indeed quite different. John didn't make him tea in the morning and kept to himself, except for the occasional 'move your feet off the table'. Everything was quiet and solitary.

It was absolute torture. John's silence felt like physical cuts, going deeper and deeper into his stomach.

With each passing day, Sherlock's thoughts circled more and more around John. The way his eyes crinkled when he John use to smile at him. The soft pink shade of John's lips that were just a bit darker than his own. How if he wanted, he could just tilt his head down and plant his lips upon John's soft sandy hair.

All Sherlock wanted was for John to love him back. He didn't need anyone but John to love him. No one mattered as much as John. Sure there was his, what, three other friends. But they weren't John.

So Sherlock concealed his pain and put on a good face. He helped John with chores, and attempted to keep his complaints to a minimum.

As John was vacuuming the flat, Sherlock sitting on the couch with his feet upon the table, Sherlock was flipping through the morning paper.

"Boring... Boring... Who cares?... Obvious... Red heals and matching lipstick... Lies... Wait wha- JOHN!" Sherlock shouted suddenly.

John, startled, spun toward Sherlock. "Who- What is it?"

"You never told me that we didn't have a king anymore..." Sherlock muttered.

"For such a brilliant man, you're a complete dumbass. Sherlock we've had a queen for ages." John sighed giving a Sherlock a 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me' face.

"Really? Must've deleted that." He said, taking the insult.

"Dear God Sherlock," John furrowed his eyebrows together in the most adorable fashion, "I wonder why I ever missed you." Sherlock was hurt slightly by the venom in John's voice.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock looked straight into John's warm vanilla-honey eyes.

"What now? You did buy the milk like I asked right?" John looked at Sherlock with confusion as he turned off the vacuum.

"Yes, it's in the fridge. I'm just, sorry for compromising your safety. You've seemed on edge and I just wanted to apologize-" He was struggling slightly with his words, distracted by his 'romantic gay feelings for John' to quote his brother, "for putting you in danger by living here with you. Except you of all people are probably the last person I need to apologize to about danger seeing as it is definitely something you are... attracted to."

"Are you serious? Are you freaking serious? You think I'm on edge because you're putting me in danger by living with me again? I was in danger without you!" John pushed up his sleeve and, to Sherlock's horror, revealed jagged scars on his forearm. "So screw you. I'm on edge because the man I- you threw yourself back into my life after you caused me such pain and I was just getting my life together.
"I got a girl, stopped hurting myself and had stopped writing you those damn letters." John was shaking with anger and was finally saying everything he had been holding in. All Sherlock could think about was how much he had hurt John, and that John has a girlfriend.

"And then you-"

"You have a girlfriend?" Sherlock inquired, hiding his hurt, newfound, feelings.

John laughed as he shook his head. "Screw you, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock watched helplessly and confused as John grabbed his keys and walked down the stairs and through the door, slamming it behind him.

He remained stunned for a couple minutes, then closed his eyes. Sherlock felt betrayed, guilty, and furious. The sudden flood of new emotion was overwhelming. He was about to revisit an old friend.

John's P.O.V.

How could I ever have loved him?