Organised Chaos - Sherlock x Reader

XLIII • 43

Your POV:

You stomped off down the street, tears blurring your vision.
You couldn't believe that John- John- would do this to you.
You walked until you reached a park, then you sat on the nearest bench. Coincidentally it was the very bench that you and Sherlock had occupied the night he asked for your help on Stauffer's case. The night that John saw you kiss him and lashed out.
You screwed your face up into a resentful frown.
You still didn't know if John had ever begun to approve of your relationship with Sherlock.
You laid a hand where he had sat, weeks before.
It seemed so long ago.
Fresh tears welled in your eyes.
"Just come back. Please." You said out loud. "I know you're there, so just- come back."
You didn't wipe them away, but let them fall, uninterrupted.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped. You turned to look and saw Sebastian hovering behind you.
"Oh God, Seb, you scared me!" You spoke, now hurriedly rubbing the back of your hand across your wet face.
"Sorry. I saw you sitting alone. What's wrong?"
He looked and sounded truly concerned.
"Oh, it's nothing."
"That's not true. The least you can say is that you don't want to talk about it."
"I was just thinking about a friend of mine who died recently."
"Ah." He looked like he understood completely. "Me too."
You turned, slightly surprised.
"Really?" You asked, wiping your eyes once again.
"Yeah. He... Never mind." He looked away. Now you saw the difference between the usual sad and lazy look in his eyes and when he actually was upset.
It was shocking how different it was.
"Oh. I'm sorry." You responded, quietly.
He didn't say anything in return, but sat down on the bench next to you.

John's POV:

I still sat in my chair at the flat, gazing at the door which you had slammed 45 minutes ago.
I knew that it was my fault, but it seemed like the only thing to do to keep from breaking my promise to Sherlock.
I knew that I couldn't tell you, but it was so hard. It had been a daily battle since he had initially revealed his secret to me.
I'd wanted to rush downstairs and tell you the good news.
It was a heavy weight holding me down, causing me guilt, so I'd felt that the only way to deal with it would be to deny the possibility.
I wasn't sure how I could patch this up, but I couldn't have the only one I had left hating me.

Your POV:

Sebastian sat beside you, a silent confidant.
You were quiet for several minutes, contemplating whether to keep your feelings to yourself or to tell him.
You'd tried telling John and he'd shot you down. You couldn't bear to experience that again.
Finally your fear of rejection won over.
"I should go." You said, quietly.
"Yeah, okay. Me too." He got up, stuck his hands in his pockets.
"Thanks for staying with me." You said, looking at him gratefully.
"Yeah, no problem."
You were once again struck with his unique beauty that you found so attractive.
You turned, shook your head to clear it. You still loved Sherlock.

You'd only made it several yards when he grabbed your hand.
"Call me later." He said, slipping a scrap of paper into the hand he grasped.
You looked down at the scribbled number.
"Okay." You said, looking back up into his watery blue eyes.
He turned away without another word.
You stared at the paper for another moment.
He wasn't being suggestive. He was simply being a friend.
You tried to reason with yourself, glancing between the scrap in your hand and the rubbish bin not far from you.
You finally made up your mind, stuffing the paper into your pocket.
Just a friend.

John's POV:

I heard you come back a half hour later. You didn't slam the door this time, but you didn't come up either.
After a moment, I heard the sound of your keyboard floating up from your flat.
I sighed.
I had no idea what I would say. Sorry probably wouldn't cut it this time, but it was worth a try.
I went downstairs, knocked lightly on your door.
Your playing stopped for a moment, then began again.
I knocked again, a little louder.
This time I could hear you get up, but you still delayed for a minute.
Finally, the door opened a crack.
"What do you want?" You asked.
I could see tears running down your face.
"Can I come in for a moment?"
I asked quietly.
You didn't respond, but opened the door wider.
I stepped in, then wrapped my arms around your shoulders in a hug.
You sighed heavily, as though you were releasing all the resentment you'd been building up for the last two hours, and laid your head on my shoulder.
I held you there for a minute without speaking.
Finally, I released you but kept my hands on your shoulders.
"I'm sorry, (N/N). I really am. I know this has hit you a lot harder than me. I'm sorry if I seemed insensitive."
"I don't really hate you." You responded quietly.
I breathed a sigh of relief. "I don't think I could deal with this if you did." I said, genuinely consoled.