It was early morning. Sun was shining even harder than yesterday and the day before. It was annoying-...
After I hardly got up, I walked up to my closet which was giant, noting that it was separate medium room, with two big hangers and couple big cabinets. I had tons of clothes but I always wore dark ones. It's not that I'm emo or smth. I just don't like light colours, and I don't have to.
I picked myself some clothes and I changed up.
Then I slowely walked to my bathroom, looking at the mirror like every morning. I always looked the same so why it was so worth it? I don't know.
After brushing my hair and styling it a bit it looked like this:
I went downstairs for breakfast and instead of two men sitting and drinking coffee in death silence, I saw a note. A simple note.
I took it and red it to myself."We went on a homicide case. We'll be home late.
Ps. Don't play truant!
Love. Dads♡︎"
Judging by the handwriting and the unusual little heart gesture at the end, it was obvious that John had written it. Sherlock never gave any informations about his existence, where he was or when he would return, let alone give any kind of gesture, such as a heart or a smiley face. He was known from always sighning his name at the end of a message so it was known it was him, even though everyone always knew from his specific messages that IT WAS HIM.
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Fanfiction15𝚢𝚛 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒�...