A/N I thought this would be cute and sweet. Best way to deal the Johnlock pain is to write warm fluffy stories. Enjoy!!! <3
I heard the front door slam and felt my stomach tighten. John was home and sounded angry. I never liked Angry John; he shouted at me and said things that were unnecessarily rude and cruel. I stood from my place in my armchair and moved to the window, picking up my violin and starting to play a melody that had been playing through my head for the past few days. Over the sound my fingers made, I heard John enter the apartment and hesitate in the doorway. I continued playing, trying desperately to calm him down enough for me to talk to him. I could feel the tension starting to fade the longer I played. I finished the song and slowly turned around. John was sitting in his chair, his eyes closed and head leaning against the back of the chair. He always looked so content when I played, that is why I played.
"Did I ever tell you how much I love your playing?" He didn't open his eyes as he spoke.
"Yes."
"Did I ever tell you I tried to learn how to play?" This shocked me.
"No."
"I did. After the fall, I thought I could try and connect with your memory by playing. I was terrible." He finally opened his eyes and looked up at me, his eyes sheepish and a slight flush on his cheeks. I shuddered at the memory of how I hurt John.
"Why did you never tell me?"
"I was embarrassed. I was worried you would want to hear me play." He wasn't wrong. "I had no idea how difficult the violin was to play."
"It can be challenging, but once you get the hang of the basics it is rather simple." He laughed slightly and stood, starting to walk into the kitchen. "I would love to hear you play." He hesitated, turning to face me.
"No, you really don't."
"Yes, I really do." He laughed, not the laugh I loved though, this one seemed empty. "Please John, play for me." I held the violin out to him and he looked skeptical, but walked towards me. He hesitated before taking the instrument. His hands were shaking as he moved the violin into position. His form was all wrong, but he looked like he was really trying. He took a deep breath before pulling the bow across the strings. The song he played was familiar, the sad melody hitting me in the gut. The notes were shaky and uncertain, but unmistakable. He was playing the waltz I wrote for him. He missed a note and stopped playing.
"I told you it was bad."
"You learned the waltz." His face was filled with confusion at my words.
"It was one of the only songs I could remember you playing." His voice was soft. "I recorded you playing once and listened to it until I figured out the notes." I could hardly breathe, my chest tightening with love for the man before me. We had been dating for a few months now, but we had yet to exchange love confessions.
"It was beautiful John." He laughed and I stepped closer, I wanted to hold him. "I am being serious, John. I can't begin to describe how amazing it is that you learned that song."
"You are just saying that."
"Did I ever tell you what my inspiration for that song was?" He shook his head. I walked closer to him, taking the instrument from his hands and setting it on the chair behind me. I placed my hands on his shoulders and smiled at him. "You, John, you were the inspiration for the waltz." I could see the shock fill his eyes.
"You wrote it for me?" I nodded, moving my hand up to his face and stoking his cheekbones. "But it- it's so sad."
"I wrote it before the fall, before I knew how you felt. Before I really knew what I was feeling. All I knew was that my heart hurt whenever you went out with some woman, or flirted with someone. All I wanted was to hold you and tell you what I was going through. I watched you pushing yourself farther and farther away from me and it hurt so much." I could feel tears falling from my eyes as I spoke. John set his face and looked up at me; his eyes were moist and filled with something I didn't recognize. He reached around me and grabbed the violin.
"Play with me." His voice was shaking as he held the instrument in his trembling hands. Our eyes met and I nodded. I spun him around and stood behind him, taking the violin in my hand and guiding it to its place under his chin. I grabbed his hand and adjusted his grip on the bow, positioning his hand appropriately. I rested my cheek against his hair and started moving our hand, playing the waltz with the man it was written for. I changed the notes, adding something new to the music. I added the love that was pouring through my veins. We played for a while longer, until I had no more notes for him. John pulled away from me, taking the violin with him. He set the instrument down and turned to face me, placing his hands on my hips and pulling me close. He moved one of his hands to my face and pulled me in for a kiss. This one was different than the ones we had shared before; there were emotions there that were never shown before. He pulled away and smiled softly up at me.
"I love you, Sherlock." My chest tightened at those words, and a grin pulled at my lips.
"I love you too." He grinned and kissed me again. I felt more joy then than I have ever felt in my life. I clung to the man I loved, silently vowing to myself to never let him go.
