HEY GUYS!
So I wrote this chapter and it deleted it so umm yeah it might not be as good because I am writing from memory.
THANK YOU FOR READING! I love writing fanfiction and it makes me overjoyed to know that some are reading and enjoying. I only ask for one thing, besides from to read it. If you can think of any, give constructive criticism! I just want to make this fanfiction better to read. I'll be trying a different way to break up paragraphs in this chapter. This chapter, like many will be, starts off pretty fluffy.
And now for the weather.
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I wake up curled in a ball, Sherlock's arms still wrapped around me. His head is rested on mine, so we are cheek to cheek. I do not want to stir, to wake him up. But his eyes flutter open anyway, looking down at me with a smile. His bandages are all still attached, but some are starting to peel off. I touch one and he flitches, but finds his smile again. I turn to snuggle my head in his chest, breathing in the smell of smoke.
"Why did you do it?" I whisper softly
He just runs his hand through my hair.
I close my eyes and let the warmth conceal me. The daylight shines through, landing on us almost like a spot light. Sherlock pushes away from me and stands up, stretching. I frown.
"John it's time to get up." he says in a groggy raspy voice.
"Why? I don't see anything wrong with cuddling all day."
"Oh, but you are forgetting. There is a place called school we are both required to attend." He seems more awake, but the raspiness is still there. It's so attractive why did he have to stop talking.
"Fine." I sit up on my bed and groan. School is such an unpleasant place, why must we go to it. A school uniform is tossed next to me. I ignore it and stare stubbornly at Sherlock.
"Come on John. If you want to be a doctor you need to go to school. A lot." Sherlock says, "Fine I'll dress first."
He pulls out a slightly larger uniform and starts stripping off his clothes. I catch myself staring at the shirtless Sherlock, but I do not stop myself. If he sees me watching, he doesn't care. He fixes his collar, and then turns to me, throwing the uniform once again at me, but this time right directly to me. It hits me on the face.
"Hey, asshole. Fuck off." Sherlock just smirks.
I pull my shirt off, and catch Sherlock looking at me. I don't care. After I'm dressed, he jumps up, grabs my hand, and pulls me downstairs. We walk into the kitchen together and take our seats at the counter.
"Morn'n snuggle bugs." Harry gives us two bowls of cereal.
"We weren't-" I start
"Oh don't even start. You guys were adorable." She starts to put the food away. I roll my eyes.
"Whatever."
We finish our breakfast and I throw Sherlock his outerwear, pulling on my leather jacket myself. Harry tosses me my backpack, and I turn to wait for Sherlock. He rests a hand on my shoulder.
"John. I don't have my backpack. It has my homework in it I don't know what to do."
"Calm down. You can run by your house, we have time."
"Thank you, John." He pulls on his black trench coat with the collar up and ties his scarf around his neck.
"See you on the bus!" I call after him. Then I jump on the bus to sit down in the usual spot.
After a while, the bus starts to close it's doors. Sherlock still isn't here. God damn it.
"No, stop!" I shout
The bus driver ignores me and starts to take off. I look back to Sherlock's house. The light isn't turned on. He never went into his house. He abandoned me again. So what was this? Embarrassment? I ride with my head down, holding in my tears.
We get to school and he isn't waiting for me. The first three classes are worst than yesterday. I can't even hear them. I just see the teacher's mouth moving but no sound comes out.
Break I see him again. Almost all of his bandages are off, red marks left behind say that they have been ripped.
I start to walk his direction, but again he shoves me off. Why is he acting like this. The rest of the day goes pretty much identical to yesterday.
When school is dismissed I run to the alley. I think maybe I will meet him there again. I turn the corner and at first think I'm wrong. But it is him.
Three boys are kicking another, one punching his face. Sherlock tries to break free but he can't.
I know I have anger issues. And I'm pretty good at controlling them. But I let go. My eyes narrow and I fix them on the first target, charging towards them I jump and tear one to the ground, stomping on his leg to keep him down. My hand throws itself up to punch another behind me, and I turn to punch his rib. He keels over and I push him down. One last lunges at me. It's Anderson.
"Protecting your boyfriend?" He teases
"Yeah, I am." I punch him in the nose. He pulls his head back up right, facing me with blood dripping to the floor.
"Well then, protect him." He pucks up the already whimpering Sherlock and pushes him to the brick wall, punching him in the face. One punch. That's all I allow Anderson before I tackle him to the ground and attack him full out. Sherlock falls to the ground unconscious behind me. Three boys rest on the ground in a painful sleep, not dead but should be. I run to Sherlock and see his wounds. He needs to go to the hospital, having me isn't enough. I carry him again, straight home. Harry opens the door, and for a moment this whole day just seems like a rerun of the last. But this time it's more serious. She sees the body and swallows. I notice my own coughs and tear stained face,
"He needs professional medical treatment." I say, my voice quiet and depressed
