Edited 01/06/2016
"John!" I could hear my voice echo off the flat walls. I knew he was there. He didn't work on Wednesdays.
'Why isn't he answering me?'
"John!" Still nothing; maybe he fell asleep at his desk again. "John!" I made my voice louder. Perhaps he couldn't hear me. No response. 'Fine, I will just try and make my own coffee.' I hadn't slept in a few days and John makes the best coffee, but since he wasn't responding I would just have to figure it out.
I rolled off the sofa, letting my body thump to the floor. I must have landed wrong, because a sharp pain cut through my shoulder and settled at the base of my neck. I reached back to massage the sore muscles, trying to move to a sitting position at the same time.
A yelp of pain involuntary slipped from my lips as I felt the muscles in my back tighten into a knot. I lay back down and tried to be still, hardly breathing as that made the muscles hurt.
I'm not sure how long I was lying there before I heard John emerging from the bathroom. Of course, he was taking a bath. He had mentioned that.
"Sherlock,"
"Yes John?" My voice sounded strained. Damn it.
"Why are you on the floor?" Shit what do I say?
"I wanted coffee."
"Okay?"
"I didn't make it to the kitchen."
"Why?"
"Because,"
"That's not an answer Sherlock." God I love how he says my name. It just seems to roll off his tongue so smoothly. I wonder what it would sound like if he was growling it out of passion-
"Sherlock," Shit. I wasn't focusing. Damn it, now I am blushing.
"What? Sorry?"
"Why didn't you make it to the kitchen?" There is something in his eyes. What was it, confusion, concern?
"I uh, I changed my mind?" Why did I say that like a question? Yep. It was definitely concern in his eyes. Damn those eyes. They look brown today.
"Tell me the truth Sherlock." His voice is softer now. God my back hurts so much right now.
I responded quietly. I hate admitting that I feel pain to John. He gets so worried. I don't deserve someone who cares so much.
"Sherlock, what happened?"
"I hurt my back. I can't move." I spoke more clearly this time, though I wouldn't look in his eyes as I said. It; he would laugh at me, lying on the floor, unable to move.
He didn't laugh, in fact, he got rather serious. He came over and knelt beside me, leaning over me slightly in order to see me face. God I liked seeing him from this angle.
"Can you roll over?" His voice cut through the fantasy that had started playing through my mind.
"Why?"
"I am going to check your back. Make sure you didn't slip a disk or something."
"I'm fine John. I'm sure I just pulled a muscle."
"Is it still hurting?"
"No."
"Sherlock,"
"Yes."
"Then it's not a pulled muscle. Now stop being childish and roll over." His voice dropped slightly, getting firm and almost harsh. He was going into army-doctor mode. His posture became more confident; an air of command taking over his shorter frame. God I love it when he gets like this. Confidence looks good on him.
