Dear god (see what I did there),
Living with John is hard enough. He sings in the shower, he enjoys talent shows, and he is INCREDIBLY ATTRACTIVE. How can I be expected not to stare as he comes out of the shower, with a towel wrapped around his lower body, and fuck-all covering his upper body. The last time I saw him in that.. state, he said good morning, and I just sort of sighed and walked casually to the bathroom, like a 14 year old boy seeing his French teachers cleavage in class.
After he cooked dinner we sat down in our respective chairs, and somehow ended up in a conversation about sex. I never thought I'd tell anyone that my first time was with my English professor in uni, but apparently today was the day. During the story, I did however notice John shifting in his seat, and begin to look generally uncomfortable. I wanted to ask, but 'wassup John, I noticed you looked uneasy while I was telling the story of my first fuck, may I ask why? Excitement? Confusion?' Sounds a bit presumptuous.
He's driving me crazy, I can't stand it.
Why can't he be mine? It kills, he's the first person I've ever relied on, the first I've ever been excited by, the only I've ever loved.
John Hamish Watson. I love you so much. You're my world, and before I met you I didn't know anything outside of solving crimes, I feel like you've enlightened me. You're too good for me
Don't say that
J.W
//Ooooooooh, exciting. Hope all 3 of my readers are enjoying, and if not, piss off ❤//
-miss sherlocked