COLOUR - Teenlock/johnlock

Enemies

The boys sat on the bus that afternoon, listening to music and staring thoughtfully out of the window at the dreary village they lived in. They passed a quaint little sweet shop selling all Sherlock's favourites: rhubarb and custards, sherbet fountains, sugar mice, liquorice allsorts and all manner of (what should have been) colourful delights.
Sherlock let out a small sigh in remembrance of his younger, more colourful years. He was disrupted by from his thoughts by John. 

"So who was he?" John questioned, "that Irish bloke?"
"He's my arch enemy" Sherlock spat through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, but who, exactly is he? And why did Sebastian attack you?" John questioned smoothly, with no hint of terror in his facade.

Sherlock took a long sigh, before continuing at an incredulously fast pace,
"His name is Jim Moriarty. We were roommates a few years ago in Reichenbach Boarding School. To put it simply, we didn't get on. He... bullied me. A lot. He's a spider. He has people everywhere. He knows the name of every man or woman in a fifty mile radius with a pistol. Trust me. This is worse than being bullied by Anderson. This is... Well, something very different. Stay away from him, John."

John just sat in his place for a moment, trying to comprehend the facts he had just received, until something hit him like a tonne of bricks,
"You're bullied? By Anderson? That Anderson?" John asked, pointing his finger in the direction of the greasy haired boy sat at the back. However, his hand was pushed down by Sherlock as soon as he had raised it.
"Don't point! And... Yes.

John turned and glanced out the window in his efforts to understand why someone would bully this wonderful human.
In the meantime, the music they were listening to moved from Beethoven to a beautiful yet unrecognisable violin piece.
"Who is this? I've never heard this before?" John questioned, genuinely interested.
"Oh, um. Well, that's... Mine?" Sherlock said with his fear of rejection noticeable in his words.
"Seriously?! That's so good! You wrote this?" John exclaimed, his body turned fully towards Sherlock and his eyes wide in curiosity.
Sherlock was rather taken aback by John's interest - this was quite rare.
"Um, well yes, I did. I composed and performed it myself, yes"
"That's brilliant. Amazing!"
There is was again. Amazing. That word that made Sherlock's heart glow.

"Well thank you, John. I've actually made quite a few at home. You could come if you wanted to?" Sherlock added with a hint of nervousness.
"Oh that'd be great, yeah" John replied with a smile blossoming of his lips.
"Great" Sherlock said with a small smile of his own trying to break free from his stone facade.

There they say for the rest of the journey, listening to the sweet sound of Sherlock's violin and smiling to themselves for longer than either of them would care to admit.

Guess who's back.
Back again.
That's right folks.
I'm back.
It's been a while but I hope this meets your expectations.
Until next time.