John
I finally stood outside my house with my bags after spending too long packing them and even longer persuading my mum to let me go. Eventually, she gave in, much to my delight, which now left me outside in the cold mornings air. Sherlock never specified where he'd pick me up from which made the situation a lot more difficult.
I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. On one hand, I couldn't wait to spend a week alone with Sherlock. However much the idea appealed to me, it also terrified me. What if Sherlock didn't turn up? What if things were awkward between us? What if I accidentally told Sherlock that... No. I wouldn't tell him. I'd keep it to myself. Sherlock didn't need to know and besides, I'm pretty sure Sherlock doesn't feel the same way. No, scratch that. Absolutely positive. Sherlock doesn't feel like that - whatever that is.
"Doctor Watson." The voice in front of me pulled me out of my daze. Sherlock was calling to me out of the open window of his car.
"Mr Holmes." I replied, picking up my bags.
"Your carriage awaits." Sherlock smirked.
After throwing my bags in the back, I took my place next to Sherlock in the front of the car. "What kind of date are you, making me carry my own bags. Didn't even hold the door open for me." I joked. Any anxiety I felt had disappeared. I relaxed into my seat.
"So this is a date then?"
I didn't reply to that. Instead I asked my own question, "Where are we going?"
The smirk spread across Sherlock's face once again and I tried to refrain from squealing like a giddy school girl. I caused that smirk. Me.
"Ah," he muttered, "now that would ruin the surprise element of our 'date'."
Once I was sitting comfortably, I turned to Sherlock who proceeded to ask, "Ready to go."
I felt a smile appear on my face as I nodded.
As Sherlock turned on the ignition, the car was filled with the beautiful sound of a violin. Before I had chance to understand what had happened, Sherlock pulled a wire out of the radio which was connected to, what looked like, his phone.
"What was that?" I asked as a blush creeped it's way onto Holmes's face.
"Uh... Um... Nothing. Must have been a classical radio station or something..." Sherlock blatantly lied.
"It was coming from your phone..." I pointed out, enjoying the colour Sherlock's face was turning.
"Was it?"
I smirked, "Sounded like a recording."
Holmes continued to avoid eye contact, "Did it?"
"Was that you playing?"
"Uh... Yes. Yes it was."
"What song was it?"
"I composed it..." Sherlock replied before quietly adding, "for you..."
I'm pretty sure the blush transferred onto my face.
"Can... Can I hear it?" I asked nervously.
"Um..." Sherlock pondered for a moment, "W-well... Okay..."
With that, I watched closely as he plugged his phone back into the radio and hit play. I smiled to myself as the melody began.
We sped down the road as the tune filled the otherwise silent car. I imagined the bow gliding across the strings. I imagined the notes on the page. I felt as if the music was meant only for my ears which, in a way, it was. It was more than a song to me.
"John?" Sherlock asked suddenly.
I turned my head towards him slowly.
"Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?"
I lifted a hand to my cheek. It was wet.
"No." I replied after some time, "No you didn't."
As the tune came to an end, I felt a hand on my own. I looked down to see Sherlock's hand. His hands were a lot bigger than mine. I knew that the gesture was meant as support and nothing more. Then why could I hear my heartbeat in my ears?
Sherlock unplugged his phone once more and turned on the radio. The sound system crackled slightly before a song blasted out of the speakers, making me jump. The words "sex" and "bomb" were repeated a lot.
I tried to keep a straight face, honestly I did, but failed, bursting into laughter. Sherlock looked at me as if I'd gone insane before joining me, giggling like a serial killer.
There we were. Two men. Giggling in a car on the way to god knows where.
This was going to be fun.
~
A few hours later, Sherlock and I arrived at our hotel. I still had no idea where we were but I hadn't been paying much attention on the way. I was too busy singing along to stupid songs about love whilst travelling down a stupid road in a stupid car. It was so stupid. Perhaps I was starting to enjoy the stupid things in life.
Sherlock and I walked up to the front desk. He booked us a room whilst I looked around. Everything in the reception was white. The desk looked like it had been scrubbed within an inch of its life with the floor in a similar condition.
With the room key in his hand, Sherlock handed it to me explaining the situation.
"The hotel was fully booked except for one room."
I looked at the key in my hand, "So we have to share a room?"
He nodded adding, "And a bed."
I giggled slightly.
"Is that okay... With you?" Sherlock asked, almost nervously.
"Of course." I made an effort to smile using my teeth, which most likely made me look more like I was planning to murder him than anything else.
Instead of making Sherlock run out of the building screaming, my cheesy, yet creepy, smile made him laugh. Soon, I joined in, and we were giggling like two teen girls in a soap opera once more.
"Shall we?" Sherlock asked, pointing in the general direction of our room.
"We shall." I replied.
