A Study of Lovers (Johnlock fanfic)

Questions

Hey guys! Plot twist! What? Did you think it would just be those two living happily ever after? Is it ever with Sherlock? That last chapter went by very fast and I apologize for that, I had a very long day and was exhausted. But I updated for you guys so hopefully this one would be better!

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John felt numb. He could feel his heart beating in his throat and his stomach churning out of anger. He didn't know how long he stood there at the corner of Baker Street, waiting for some kind miracle to happen, hoping to tell him it was all just a dream and he would wake back up next to Sherlock like this night never happened.

"John!" He snapped out of his daze and turned around to find a man with bright orange hair and soft yet chiseled features approach him on the street.

"Walsh?" John was still a little confused and lost of the events that just took place.

"Yeah, you said needed somewhere to stay. Is everything all right?" John opened his mouth to say something but nothing escaped his lips. Michael pursed his lips.

"C'mon buddy, let's get you back to my flat." He wrapped his arm around John's shoulders and escorted him back.

Michael showed him inside and eventually to his guest bedroom, where John would fall alseep as soon as his head hit the pillow. But before even getting into a deep sleep, he was awakened by a blood curdling scream; realizing it was his own as his throat felt dry and a bit scratched. He couldn't do it.

No matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard, he couldn't bring himself to bury those feelings that had come to him from such long ago of loving Sherlock.

Not getting one measly hour of sleep, he figured he would get up, despite the time being almost 4 o'clock in the morning, and take a shower. He undressed and stepped into the running shower, letting the beads of scalding hot water run down his back and face, wishing they would cover up the tears that seeped into his eyes and his lonely cries of pain and depression.

It ached John to be this way. He knew he fell hard for Sherlock and there is no escaping those feelings of something that switched from love to anger to sadness and eventually all continuing in a vicious cycle that tore John apart, leaving him horribly lost and without direction as the hours turned into days and those turned into weeks.

How could he? How could he do such a thing to me? After all I've, WE'VE been through?! I love him too much to stand to be away from him from such a long time or go on with my life without him.

John thought he was being over dramatic when he thought of picking up his pistol and sticking it next to his head and pulling the trigger, and which he was, but he saw no reason to live without Sherlock anymore.

One of the days out of the long and gloomy weekends, John got a text.

John please, I miss you.
Let me explain
                        -SH

John decided to ignore it. What more he could do? The emptiness of the flat rang furiously in John's ears. As Michael was out, John was left alone and to squander in his own self pity. The empty space in the open living room was left for John to sit and take in all of the gloomy weather that London had to offer. His phone rang again. He got another text.

John please, I love you
Please come home
                    -SH

One after another, without hesitation, Sherlock sent texts nonstop to John to the point of annoyance.

John! Please! Answer me!
                    -SH

John finally gave in.