John lay on his bed, his hands were tingling and he was unable to sleep. He turned onto his side and looked at Mary, his girlfriend. Suddenly his whole relationship felt wrong.
He stood up and walked to the kitchen, clenching his hands. Only a few hours ago, his hands were around his best friend.
He walked over to his coat which was hanging on the door and reached into the pocket. He took out a small box which he had put there a few hours ago before what was meant to be a massive moment to him.
In a way, it still had been.
He remembered how nervous he had felt while sitting there, waiting for Mary to walk into the room. He hadn't got to the part where he asked the question and he thought, maybe that was a good thing.
John sat down on one of the chairs in the kitchen. He did not know what to do. How could he talk to Sherlock again after everything he did to him?
John had found someone that he felt happy with, the person that he clicked with. That's what he thought, but it all changed at that dinner. When he saw his best friend again.
John paced his kitchen, thinking about what to do. Without reaching a conclusion he went back to bed.
