W.S.S.H.

A Day in the Life of Sherlock

When I woke up I jumped to my feet, going over to the desk and getting out a pencil. The book had closed, which I don't remember doing, but Sherlock had been able to flip all of those pages the other day, so I'm guessing he did this.

Are you there? I wrote hopefully.

Have I ever not been? The cursive handwriting appeared once again, making me smile with relief. It wasn't just a dream.

So, just to be sure, that wasn't just something I made up in my mind right, the glowing light, Hogwarts, you?
No, all real as far as I know.
Well that's a relief; I'm not going crazy then.
Everyone is going crazy, just extremely slowly.

That's nice...
Some fall faster than others though.
That's a nice sentiment.
Truth is rarely nice.
Obviously. But god, that was so amazing. I never really pictured you like that, I mean, I did and didn't, if you know what I mean.
No Mr. Watson, I fully understand, I knew you were one of those athletic funny kids but it's the little details, like your hair, height, and cute creases when you smile.
Umm.... Thanks?
You're welcome. I could imagine him laughing to himself at my presumed reaction.

"John, Harry, breakfast!" Mom called through the house. I heard a loud groan, so Harry was up as well.

"20 more minutes!" Harry called.

"No Harry, you know the rules, eight o'clock on weekends. John are you up?" Mom called.

"Yes, coming!" I yelled back with a groan.

I need to go eat breakfast; I'll hopefully see you later.
Enjoy your meal. I wondered where Sherlock ate, it seemed like the Great Hall was deserted, and there was no one else in the castle, at least no one I had seen. He said only select people he liked were still there, I had to guess that meant cooks and waiters and stuff like that. I walked out into the dining room, where Mom had set up a whole buffet of Saturday breakfast, including French toast, eggs, and bacon. I loved breakfast; it might even be my favorite time of the day. A lot of families, like Greg's, don't really cook breakfast anymore; they just kind of throw cereal and milk together and call it a meal. But at the moment I wanted to be with Sherlock, not just pages on a book. I wanted to be with him, see him as a living, breathing human, be able to link arms with him, smell whatever that beautiful scent was, hear his deep voice that sounded too beautiful to be aloud. If I had to put together the ideal man, Sherlock would be the first person I would pick. Not that I thought about him, like that, it was just something I took notice of. My heart was still set on the beautiful Mary Morstan, even though Sherlock had become a sort of friend/family member.

"How'd you sleep dear? I saw you fell asleep on your desk." Mom said with a little laugh. I smiled, shrugging and saying that I had slept alright. Poor Mom, she'd never know what I was really up to.

"You've been awfully quiet lately, anything I should know about?" she asked again. I felt all of the family's judging eyes turn on me.

"Oh, no, just homework. I'd like to see anyone of you last one minute in Mrs. Fletcher's class." I said with an annoyed smile.

"Now what are they teaching you?" Dad grumbled, he didn't sound like he cared about anything more than the food on his plate, but it was a nice attempt to pretend that he gave a crap about the rest of the world.

"Oh, just atoms, the periodic table and all that." I shrugged, swishing a piece of French toast around in the puddle of syrup on my plate.

"I remember Junior year science, good luck." Harry laughed.