All I Want For Christmas Is You

14. Butterflies

Previous chapter: 13. School programs - Wednesday

Sherlock's POV

John follows me into the house, then into my room, looking around curiously since he hasn't been in here before.

"I like your room." He says suddenly and I smile.

"I guess it could've been a bit bigger." I say and he smiles.

"Shut up and get into bed, I'll make you a cup of tea." He says and I smile.

"Okay, but shouldn't I make you tea, since you're the guest?" I ask and he rolls his eyes amusedly.

"Just do what I said." He says and I sit down on my bed, my head still hurting a tiny bit. "Where's the kitchen?" He asks and steps out of my room.

"Just go down, it's opposite from the stairs." I say and he nods and leaves the room, then I hear him go down. I lean forward and try to look after him, but the wall doesn't let me see him, so I stand up and leave the room. I stop at the top of the stairs, watching him go into the kitchen. I chew on my bottom lip, trying to hold back a smile. Stop smiling! I rebuke myself and go back to my room. I'm standing in the doorway for a while, thinking. Why am I always smiling? I don't usually smile. But when John is with me I feel like I have to smile constantly. But why? Okay, he's my friend, but I didn't feel this with Victor (he wasn't really my friend, but I thought he was), I didn't want to smile constantly. I didn't have any reason to. And I still don't have. But then why? I don't realise footsteps approaching my room, so I just stand there, motionless.

"Sherlock, I told you to get into bed." I hear John saying. I turn around and see a mug in his hands, hot tea steaming in it.

"Okay mummy." I tease him and I smile to myself, seeing him rolling his eyes makes me satisfied.

"Finished?" He asks, obviously annoyed with me. I nod and sit down on my bed.

"Satisfied?" I ask back and he shakes his head.

"Lie down." He says and I send him a confused look. "Sherlock, you've got a concussion, please take a rest." He says and I roll my eyes, but do as I was told. He nods contentedly and then sits down at the edge of my bed, giving me the hot mug. "Drink it."

"But for that I will need to sit up." I say and he sighs tiredly.

"I hate you." He mutters and I sit up, chuckling amusedly. I hold the mug and take a sip.

"No you don't." I say and he shakes his head with an absentminded giggle.

"No I don't." He admits and I feel my heart start to race and fill with warmth. I scold myself in my head for acting so nonsensically, and start to drink the tea, trying to cover my blushing face with the mug. After I finish drinking John speaks up, taking the empty mug. "Better?" He asks and I nod.

"Much. I would've died without this tea." I say and he punches me in the shoulder.

"Shut up." He stands up and places the mug on my table. I don't lie back, just watch him looking at the photos on my table. In some pictures there is my little self, playing with Mycroft in the garden, or opening presents under a christmas tree. I see John smile softly and I thank God that the naked photos of both me and Mycroft in the bathtub are carefully hidden in a photo album, hopefully never going to be shown to anyone. "You seem so happy." He says, I think meaning it to both me and Mycroft. I nod. He's right, I was happy. And I think Mycroft was too. But unfortunately these times are far away now. "I envy you." He says. This surprises me, so I listen curiously. "Harry and I never liked each other." He says. "We were always fighting, the only smiling pictures of us are the ones where our parents and the photographers had positioned us and told us to stay like that. After some seconds we started to fight again and the thought of the happy photos of us flew away like a bird." He explains. "Most of our photos are made randomly. You should see them. My eyes closed, mouth open, Harry frowning or sneezing. They are really beautiful." He says, dead serious. I imagine the photos and hold back a smile.

"Don't worry, we have of those too." I say and he smiles. He goes over to my violin and takes a look at it too.

"It's nice." He says, admiring the instrument. He then looks at my notes and turns around in disbelief. "You're composing?" I nod in reply.

"Helps me to think." I say and he chuckles.

"You're unbelievable." He whispers and I blush. I stand up but he shakes his head in disapproval. "No, Sherlock, lie back!" He says and I roll my eyes.

"I don't want to." I say and step closer to him. He steps one closer too, but just so he can push me back towards my bed. "Jawn!" I say, but he shakes his head and keeps pushing me backwards.

"You need to rest." He says and I find myself sitting on the sheets. I send him an annoyed look, hoping it would change his mind. It didn't.

"But- "

"No but! Rest." He says and lays me down, sending fire down my spine. I try to protest, but he's stronger than me - another thing I wouldn't have guessed - and pushes me back.

"John, let me go!" I try to sound as natural as possible, ignoring his scent that tickles my nose.

"No!" He says. God, how can someone be so stubborn? "Sherlock!" He says and after seeing that I won't give it up in the near future, he pins my hands to the bed, leaning on them heavily. I look up at him in disbelief and he looks satisfied with himself. I can't do anything but watch him, trying to memorise every little detail on his face. I get a better view of his eyes too; they are dark blue, maybe there's even a little dark purple in them. They look like the galaxy. I can't get enough of looking at his eyes. I feel like I'm sinking into them and then starting to get lost in them, but I don't mind. I try not to breathe as fast as my heart tells me to, but it's nearly impossible. I try to escape from John's grip, but he holds me tight and firm. I know that he won't let go of me in the upcoming seconds, and knowing this makes the butterflies in my stomach go crazy. I look down at his lips. No! Sherlock, what are you doing? Stop it! You will ruin everything! I look back at his eyes, but notice that John's looking at my lips too. What the...? Wait... What if...? No, obviously not! Don't hope. Wait, hope? I'm not in love with him... am I? I can't decide whether John leaned closer or not, because in the next second I hear the front door opening. John must have heard this too, because he lets go of me and scratches his head uncomfortably. I stay there (lying) on the bed, trying to just understand what happened. "I think I'll be going." John mutters (not waiting for an answer) and hurries out of my room, leaving me there all confused. I bury my head in my hands, trying to catch my breath. The memories of the just-happened incident swims into my mind, causing me to moan furiously. I know I've ruined everything.

I've ruined everything by falling in love with him.

I'm in love with John Watson.

Next chapter: 15. School programs - Thursday (14.12.2023)