Thursday. Tea. Kettle. Click. Wait. Cups from the sink. Looks dirty. Don't care. Click again. Teabags. Pour. Milk. Spoon. Also dirty. Still don't care. Stir. Clunk. Spoon back in sink. Door. Unlocked, open. John enters. John. Tea for John. Surprise. He's surprised. Must give John tea more often. Small talk. "Thanks, Sherlock." Use of my name. Affection. "You're welcome, John." Use of his name and a pleasantry. Affection. Notice the dark shadow under John's eyes. Long day at work. Tea makes it better. Will give John tea tomorrow. Smile. Return smile. Sip. Tea. And John.
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Saturday. Crime scene. Easy. Gun shot. Woman killed her husband. He was cheating. With her brother. Arrest woman wearing a red coat and carrying a brown suitcase. Gun in suitcase. Easy. Too easy. Complements. "Amazing." "Fantastic." From John. Always John.
Taxi. 12 minutes. Sitting on the left. Let John get in first. Buzz. Phone. Mycroft. Ignore. Arrive. £14. Pay with £15. Exit. Baker Street. Home. Tea. Kettle. Click. Walk away. John will do it. Always does it. Sofa. Lay down. Cup pressed into my hands. Fingers brush. John. Tea. Warm. Noise. TV. John's favourite show. Canned laughter. John's laughter. Real laughter. Genuine. Sip. Tea. Drown out noises. Except John's laugh. Likes John's laugh.
Night. Dark. Not tired. Bored. Face down on the sofa. Dressing gown. John's pyjamas. Soft. Cotton. John. "Please get some sleep." Ignore. Not tired. He sighs. "Goodnight, Sherlock." Smile. Footsteps. Bedroom door open. Close. Goodnight John. Sleep well. Bored. Not tired. Alone.
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Monday. 6:43 am. John's awake. Click. Kettle. Tea. Pop. Toast. Two slices. Don't give one to me. Don't. Not hungry. Plate and cup placed on table. For me. Tea and toast. There's a "please eat" on John's tongue. Isn't said. Eat. For John. Tea. Warm. Toast. Buttery. Footsteps. Coat. Zip. "Bye Sherlock." Grunt. Don't go, John. He leaves. Alone.
Door. John's home. Quick. Make tea. For John. Clean cups. Clean spoon. John washed up yesterday. No milk in fridge. Will ask John to get it. Tea for John. Smile. Sip. Tea. Buzz. Phone. Mycroft. You're becoming soft for him. Don't reply. Can't retaliate. Won't. Deleted. Finish tea. Cup in sink. Next to John's. Smile. Silence.
Violin. Scratchy. Must tune violin. Probably won't. John's reading the newspaper. Trying. I'm distracting him. Sorry, John. Pace quickens. Violin. Scratchy.
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Monday. Still. Date tonight. John. With Jessica. Or Sophie. Or Louise. Don't care for names. Not hers. Relationship won't last long. She will hate how much time he spends with me. They always do. Violin. Angry violin. Loud and fast. Rough. Fits my mood. Angry. Stupid date. Stupid woman. Jessica. Sophie. Louise. Stupid.
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Friday. Dinner. Mycroft. Mother. Father is absent. Mother disproves. He didn't want to see his children. John, also absent. With Jessica/Sophie/Louise. Stupid. Expensive food. Not particularly nice. Mycroft is paying. Always does. "You know, he will find someone good enough for him. Enough to leave you. He won't need you much longer." No name mentioned but I know. John. Ouch. Get up. Walk out. No goodbye. Angry. He's right. Always is.
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Monday. Tired. It would happen eventually. Calculating the time since I last slept. 6 days. I will sleep tonight. Just tonight for now. Dreams. I don't want to dream. I want to stay awake. But I'm tired. Eventually I will always get tired. Raining. Pitter Patter. Wet umbrella by the door. John's home. Didn't tell me. He's not here for long anyway. He'll be at work tomorrow. Then with her. "Go to bed, Sherlock." Use of my name. Not affection. Not quite. Not anymore. Don't argue. Tired. Move feet. Bed. Warm. Black.
Dream of John. Stupid. He smiles. Likes his smile. There's no Jessica. No Sophie. No Louise. Just John and me. It's nice. But stupid. Eyes open. Over. Gone. Real life. Without John. He's already left for work. I won't see him tonight. I know I won't. Angry. Sad. That's new. So very sad.
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Tuesday. Dinner? Angelo's at 8pm tonight.-SH Why-JW. Pause. Why? Do I even know? Does there have to be a reason. I miss him. Is that reason enough? It's for a case- SH. Liar. Okay, see you tonight- JW Pause. Should I? Don't bring her-SH. Send. Regret. Anxious.
Angelo's. 7:59pm. Waiting. Class of wine. Red. "On the house" For my nerves. Don't get nerves. Only for John. 8:00pm. He's coming in. Drink the wine. In one. Anxious. He's alone. Good. "Hello, John." Use of his name. Affection. Lust. Love? "Hey." No name there. No affection. "Mary was quite upset that I had to leave her." Ahh. Mary. Stupid Mary. "Oh, I'm sorry. I won't keep you very long." It's a lie. I know it. He knows it. He also knows I hate her.
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Wednesday. Buzz. Phone. John. I'm coming home-JW. Don't reply. Happy. But sad. They broke up. Poor John. She hurt him. John. I'm sorry. Tea. For John. Quick. To the shop. Milk. And biscuits. For the tea. Tea for John. He's coming home. To me. Finally.
"Thanks, Sherlock." Use of my name. Affection. Relief washes over me. He takes the cup from my hand. Fingers touch. Linger. Sip. Tea. Warm. Won't ask about Mary. She made him choose. Her or me. Me. Not her. Me. Good. But poor John. John is always made to choose. Always picks me. Why? Why me?
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Sunday. Morning. John. In the kitchen. Noisy. Kettle. Frying pan. Tea. Eggs. Too much for just John. Two cups. Two plates. Not hungry. Won't eat it. Smells okay. Good, even. Maybe I'll eat a bit. Won't hurt. Pop. Toaster. Fork. Knife. Plate. Breakfast. With John. "Morning, Sherlock." Use of my name. Affection. Smile. Morning, John. I love you. I grunt. It's easier. Distraction. Quick. Tea. Warm. Eggs. Nice. John's a good cook. Not hungry. Stop eating. Watch John. He looks up. Stare. Time slows down. John. Only John.
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