John's pov
Three in the morning! Three in the bloody morning and Sherlock's still playing that bloody violin.
"Sherlock that's enough! You need to sleep!" I shout coming down the stairs.
The music abruptly stops as I turn the corner in time to see Sherlock slink into his chair, sliding the instrument into its case.
"Can't sleep to bored." He says not looking at me.
I thrust my head into my hands. "I suppose you want a nighttime murder right now."
"That would be almost as nice as you look."
The last sentience shocked me. Even though we'd been dating for over a month Sherlock hardly made comments on my appearance, his brain to wrapped up in his work, though he always made certain to kiss me each night before I went to my room.
"That's um that's great..." I stutter pulling the blanket closer to my naked torso.
"Hmm your suddenly feeling shy. Why is that?" Sherlock asks yawning.
I suppress a smile, beginning to enjoy this overtired version of Sherlock.
"Did I say something wrong?" He asks walking up to me.
"Not at all." I murmur pressing my face in between his shoulder and neck.
"Good!" He exclaims jumping up and wrapping his legs around mine so I'm holding him. Then pressing a kiss onto my awestruck face.
"To my bedroom?" He suggests leaning in that direction.
I go so as not to be toppled over by his weight.
As soon as we're in his room he flings himself out of my arms and onto the bed.
"Goodnight Sherlock." I murmur turning to go.
"Wait!"
"What's wrong?"
"Sleep with me?"
I chuckle and crawl into the bed, feeling Sherlock instantly curl up behind me.
"Goodnight Sherlock."
His soft snores are the only answer.
