The rest of the notes are much of the same; he talks about my quirks, my habits, the good, the bad - everything.
When I finish reading them, I can't move.
John did everything in his power to make me happy. Of course I noticed, but did I really not give him thanks enough? I know he said to not feel sad, but I do. Constantly.
I put the notes back in the box and close the lid. Standing, I grab the box and hold it to my chest. A few tears make their way down my cheek, but I don't care.
I go to my bedroom, open the box, and take out every note. Going to the kitchen, I find some tape then go back and put a piece to the top of every note before placing them all over the flat.
Every corner I turn, I'm met with John's writing. I smile at each one and go about my day.
Each night I dream of John and place him in my mind palace. Whenever I'm feeling down or withdrawn, I just visit John and everything is okay again.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Sherlock
FanfictionAfter John's suicide, Sherlock sets about to clean out John's room. While doing so, he comes across a box of little notes addressed to him. He falls in love with John all over again, except this time, it's with his memory. Credit to whomever painted...
