[ The floor is very pointedly cold. Cold in such a way that his bones are beginning to ache, the way in which cold just seeps through your clothes and up into your skin, cold, so cold, but never enough to make him move. His wrist is caught and he makes no move to pull it free, though his hand is still poised, refusing to relax. His pulse is steady, his breathing is rhythmic. All in all, very much alive, very much there and very much with John's head in his lap.
Still, it's not as though he can even force himself to care, whether someone walks in or not (but they won't, no, Sherlock has back up and the CCTV cameras have been switched off and there are no footsteps echoing in the adjacent corridor. They are, for all intents and purposes, alone - which is especially impressive, given that this doctor's surgery is very much a public place). ]
I suppose I'll settle for a cup of tea at yours.
[ Because he didn't answer, and the irrational part of his brain is telling him because it's possible John doesn't want him any more, can't stand him, moved on, has a life. Illogical with nothing to prove any of those thoughts as anything more than conjecture, the very thing he hates to do without evidence and yet here he is, doing it anyway. ]
no subject
[ The floor is very pointedly cold. Cold in such a way that his bones are beginning to ache, the way in which cold just seeps through your clothes and up into your skin, cold, so cold, but never enough to make him move. His wrist is caught and he makes no move to pull it free, though his hand is still poised, refusing to relax. His pulse is steady, his breathing is rhythmic. All in all, very much alive, very much there and very much with John's head in his lap.
Still, it's not as though he can even force himself to care, whether someone walks in or not (but they won't, no, Sherlock has back up and the CCTV cameras have been switched off and there are no footsteps echoing in the adjacent corridor. They are, for all intents and purposes, alone - which is especially impressive, given that this doctor's surgery is very much a public place). ]
I suppose I'll settle for a cup of tea at yours.
[ Because he didn't answer, and the irrational part of his brain is telling him because it's possible John doesn't want him any more, can't stand him, moved on, has a life. Illogical with nothing to prove any of those thoughts as anything more than conjecture, the very thing he hates to do without evidence and yet here he is, doing it anyway. ]