Sally gave Sherlock the number of that guy she dated. As they ate their fancy, expensive food, they helped Sherlock craft the perfect texts and analyze the responses.
Right there, at the dinner table, a hookup was arranged.
John payed the check with pride, but it all faded as Sally drove Sherlock to Josh's house, and then drove John home alone.
The feeling that swelled up in John's chest was unpleasant. He felt nauseous once he got back inside and found that he felt too gross to write.
This really isn't jealously, he told himself. He had no reason to be jealous.
It's not like he and Sherlock were, like, together.
Sherlock could do whatever he liked.
YOU ARE READING
Melancholock
Fanfictionpain is beauty. {cover art drawn by me, pieced together and colored by @queen_mycroft, my best friend, son, and grandmother}
