My head is a mess. I would never have thought that I would hesitate to meet Sherlock Holmes. I've always thought that when the opportunity came, I would jump on him, snog his face off, love him not so tenderly. But now, now I'm nailed to the cold hard floor, leaning my back against a brick wall, watching people's legs pass by.
At Sherlock's written words, I pull in my feet and wrap my arms around my legs, putting my chin on my knees. I play with the phone in my hands, twisting it between my thumb and index finger. Shall I stand, and man up, show him who the real Jon-eh John is and woo him over with my English charms and bright smile?
Oh who am I even kidding? Sherlock Holmes cannot be woo-ed so easily. Especially not by some idiot who steps on his toes and runs into him.
John_Watson
DM @Sherlock_221B: I'm really sorry for being such a klutz. Hope your toes are all right. X
I put my phone in my pocket and stand up. I brush the dirt from my jeans with a sigh. Goodbye Sherlock Holmes, goodbye chance on marrying the hottest man alive, the cutest boy of the universe, the love of my life. Am I being a bit too dramatic? I think not.
"Maybe a broken toe will improve my dancing."
Right then, I'm back on the ground. I don't even feel my behind hit the concrete as the now familiar smell hits me. It's close, so close that it causes me to shiver. I know that voice and I don't know how I didn't recognize it before. It's low, slow and it sounds like music to my ears. It's the best sound in the world and it's directed to me. What is my life?
He sits next to me, the boy that is worth over fifty million pounds or so just put his bum next to me. I can feel his elbow hit my arm but I'm afraid to look up. I'm afraid it's all a dream and that I'll wake up cold and alone. As always.
"Hey John." He says, voice smooth and sweet. I don't know why he's doing this, why he takes the effort to talk to me. Especially not after what I did only minutes ago. Why is he so kind?
"Hi Sherlock." I reply but I don't know if he heard me as I could barely hear myself. I'm breathing hard, almost panting. I feel awkward, I don't know what to say, what to do. I don't know where to put my arms and legs. I want to look up and see if it's really him even though the voice is a dead give-away but I can't seem to move my head. My eyes are glued to the ground where a lot of ankles are passing.
"Why are you sitting here?" He asks and I can feel his eyes scanning my figure. "It's kind of harsh on the bum, no?" From the corner of my eye I see him shifting a bit. Somehow he's scooted closer and I can literally feel his arm against mine from where both of our t-shirt sleeves are rolled up. I might have stolen that look from him.
I know I should answer him instead of shrugging my shoulders but it's hard when everything I've ever wished for is sitting right next to me. I should keep this conversation going if I don't want to mess things up even more. It was so nice to be able to talk to the real Sherlock even if it was on the
Internet. It was easy and comfortable so why would this be any different? Oh yeah, because I made a complete fool out of myself, that's why.
"Do you think your toe is actually broken?" My eyes jump from my feet to his suede boot clad ones. The material looks soft and bendable and guilt washes over me.
"I walk in big crowds a lot." He states, not making any sense. He pauses for a really long time before he continues. "People stand on my feet a lot. I have pretty big feet so it isn't easy for people to walk around them." He laughs a little at his own words and it's hard to keep up the sadness when I hear the silent chuckle escape his lips.
"I think I should go soon." He says after a silence that's lasted too long.
I'm ruining it. I'm ruining it. I'm ruining it. I'm actually surprised that he's still here. If I was Sherlock I would've ran while I could instead of sitting next to a complete freak show. My head snaps up then and feel my cheeks burst in flames when I find his eyes immediately.
Green wouldn't be the word to describe them. No, that would be an insult because his eyes aren't just green. They're like green stones, all different shades and specks. The outer ring of his irises are dark but closer to the pupil it gets lighter. It's like a perfectly coloured picture that I can't tear my own eyes from. It's when he blinks rapidly a few times that my trance is broken and I look away again.
"Not to sound all popstar-ish who has his head in his own arse but people are looking at us and once someone tweets where I am, it will take only minutes before I get mobbed. Since you're with me, you'll get mobbed too, you don't want that, it's horrible." He nearly whispers and my heart swells because instead of pitying on himself, he's thinking about me.
Come on English man, get your stuff together. One part of me wants to jump his bones, kiss him until he loses the ability to do anything but make love to me. It's what I always imagined, what I always wanted to do but I never ever would have thought that he was close enough for me to act out these fantasies. Now that he is, I'm turning into an awkward schoolgirl who can't do anything than fiddle with her own clothes and blush at the floor.
"Hey John, are you going to one of the concerts in the O2 next month?" Sherlock suddenly asks and I stare at him again.
"N-no." I stammer. "Tickets were sold out in three minutes." I think back to the day that Mary and I were behind our laptops to score tickets to any of the concerts. Tickets were gone before we even made it to the site that sold them.
"Do you want to go?" The smile he gives me is small and sincere and it's the best one I've ever seen.
"I wish I could."
"I asked if you want to go. Not if you could go." He pushes with a little smirk, eyebrow raised and eyes shining. "I mean, if the lack of tickets is the reason you can't go."
"Of course I want to." I reply without missing a beat.
"Great, I'll see you there then!" He stands up and offers me a hand to lift me from the floor as well. I make sure to hold my balance even though it's very tempting to 'stumble' for the third time and wrap my arms around his body to hold me steady.
But, huh? "I'm sorry what?" His words hit me like a brick all of a sudden. He'll see me there? I'm not going. I. Don't. Have. Tickets. I look at him confused and only now do I realize how tall Sherlock actually is. I have to lift my head to look him in the eye and it's another plus on my why do I want to date Sherlock Holmes list.
"I said, I'll see you there. Unless you've changed your mind already? Did I bugger up today?" He lets go of my hand as soon as I stand and I look at him cautiously. Is he trying to be sarcastic now?
I squint my eyes and he huffs out a laugh but doesn't say anything.
"I don't think you could ever bugger up, Sherlock Holmes." I emphatize his name and hey, welcome back John, this is how I know you-me. Wait, what are you even--
"Is that so?" His cheekbones became more evident up in a half smile and no, he could never screw up and if he does, he has dimples to make it up for him.
"Nah, you're Sherlock Holmes, teenage heart-throb, people would be honored if you vomit all over them." He scrunches up his nose in a way that can't be described other than cute or adorable and lets out a disgusted noise.
"That's... so gross." He splutters but he doesn't deny it. The fucker knows I'm right. He doesn't have to barf on me though, I wouldn't love him less but like he said, it's gross. Oh my God, ew.
"Eh." He mumbles after yet another silence. This one not as uncomfortable as the others, luckily.
He holds his hand up with a phone in his palm and I look at it warily. Does he wants me to put his number in his phone but doesn't dare to ask? Hey, wait. I recognize the case around the white iPhone and see that it's not his but my phone. Unless he has a 221B phone case as well. "I think it fell from your pocket."
I take my phone from his hand with shaky fingers and hold my breath as my skin brushes his. It's nothing but my fingertip grazing over his hand palm but still, I'm touching Sherlock freaking Holmes.
Oh shit, fanboy mode is coming up. I put my phone back in my pocket with a blush and shake my head to clear myself from my thoughts. Not the right time to freak out when he stands in front of you, you were doing so well, don't screw up again.
"Thanks." I say, looking back to him. He's taken a few steps backwards now and I realize he's really walking away from me this time.
Goodbye my lover. Goodbye my friend. You have been the one, you have been the one for me. He winks at me and it takes a lot for me not to turn in a puddle of my own emotions right here.
"I'll see you around, Jon. Don't make me change my phone number."
A/N: SURPRISE UPDATE. UPDATING BECAUSE I'M CRAMMING MY MINI THESIS HAHAHA <3.