The final problem...love (Johnlock)

Three. The final argument

Hiyaa guys...I'm too tired to write so bear with me alright? But enjoy it anyway guys!^^^that picture though.
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John's pov.
Another day, well...not really, yesterday Sherlock and I got into an argument, and...you can say that it did not turn out the way it was meant to turn out...
....*flashback*....
"Sherlock for the last freaking time, you are not going outside without breakfast!" I sigh in annoyance and agony, why can't he just eat a grain of rice? I am not his babysitter.
"Watson...I'm fine."
"No you're not. Look at the state of your body...it is like a endoskeleton that resurrected from hell." Okay that went a little too far.
After a second...Sherlock clenches his fists and starts to scream out loud "I am truly sorry that I cannot meet your standards of modern human culture, but next time I'll wear makeup for you-"
"THIS IS NOT ABOUT PHYSICAL FITNESS IT IS ABOUT YOUR INNER HEALTH." I let out a shaky breath.
I look over to Sherlock and observe him...Sherlock looks, rather disappointed.
I should say sorry, shouldn't I?
Well I 'try' to apologise by saying "I'm...sorry, I know you don't like humans-i mean you don't like to move with the times-Ugh". I can't make out a sentence!
I flop down on the couch next to Sherlock. But he doesn't seem to move an inch from where he was sitting. I intentionally sigh so I could grab his attention but no...he's in the same position, with tears coming out of his eyes.
I really effed up hadn't I?
....*flashback ends*....
So yeah, I really need to do something before I get kicked out, and I do not want to live with another person besides Sherlock...sounds scandalous, I know. Anderson and Mrs. Hudson always make out a conversation about me and Sherlock sharing the same bed.
Yes and we do share the bed for heaven sake!
As my mind was still fighting over the 'sharing beds' phenomenon, I quickly snap out of my thoughts as I hear footsteps coming up the stairs.
Holy hell.
I abruptly stand up as Sherlock breaks the door open. Yes John great job, that'll make him think that I am some kind of a weird stalker.
I trace every movement of his from coming in through the door to sitting down on the sofa, yet he seems to not notice me or my existence.
Great John, now you'd done it.
Nonetheless, I wait for Sherlock to look up but, nothing causes him to even glance at my direction. I clear my throat as loud as possible. Which even causes mrs. Hudson to gasp downstairs. But he, that persistent little sh*t stats still.
After what it seemed like an eternity, I decided to speak up.
"Look Sherlock-"
"It's okay." Sherlock interrupts what was about to be, my longest sorry speech of my life.
I confusedly ask "What?"
Sherlock folds the newspaper in his hands, then places it on the table. He finally meets my eyes. To my surprise Sherlock smiles.
I repeat.
He SMILES.
I try to obtain a great composure, but after three seconds, my lips turn into a devilish grin as well.
Then something unexpected happens.
Sherlock hugs me tight and starts to cry.
"I am so sorry, I should've had heard you and try to sustain a healthy diet...bu-but I didn't and-oh god, damn you sentiment!" Sherlock manages to say this in one sentence.
After a while, my shirt is soaked in water from his tears, normally I would push anyone away because I don't want anybody's filthy tears on my shirt. But...
Sherlock is one of a kind.
And I know that he also finds comfort in me. Which is...
Satisfying.
Two hours pass and I am sitting on the sofa, with Sherlock clung to my neck. To be honest it is a very gentle feeling, to be the one comforting the other person.
Even though Sherlock manages to keep a straight face in front of everyone and convinces us to believe that he is not human but...
In reality he is the complete opposite.
Once I remember he told me:
"I only let out my feelings rarely, which is never because I do not have someone to pour my heart out to."
And after three years...wow.
As I am going through my thoughts, I look down to see Sherlock sleeping on my stomach. I ruffle his hair and put his arm around my neck in order to lift him and get him to bed.
After a while of struggles with Sherlock, I still managed him to lay down on the bed without waking him up.
I turn around to reach the doorknob when i hear a silent "John" coming out of Sherlock's mouth...I had work but...who cares?
I decide to lay down next to him...but then.
HE FREAKING SPOONS ME IN HIS SLEEP.
...um...wow.
I thought that I would not like to share a bed with Sherlock. But I guess I was wrong.
Way wrong.
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How is it? Again I'm tired so I don't know how I managed to write this buuuuttt....enjoy and vote please?
Bye readers...(can't even spell that right...)