Still The Addict

The Most Boring Man on the Planet

(Sherlock's POV)

It's been a week since John implemented the new routine. A stern approach to my bad habits, zero tolerance towards my tendency towards self- mutilation and blood. He always asks how I'm feeling, a question I must respond to I'm graphic detail.

"How are you, Sherlock?"

He'll ask me. It's often a different answer every time, and sometimes I don't even know what I'm going to say. Sometimes I say I'm fine, avoid the question. Other times I expose myself. It's a freeing thing, and a welcome relief. I know, trust John that much to make myself vulnerable. Dropping to my knees, hugging his legs and crying out my manic depressive episodes. Cutting. Cocaine. Coitus. My addictions seem rudimentary now. Concepts brewed from base ingredient on my mind rather than complex enhancements.

I'll always be depressed. But with John, under his control and guidance, it's like I'm finally at peace with myself. With everything. The CDs I own are used for composing music. Our Saturday nights are comprised of John drinking hard alcohol and falling asleep in is chair, listening to my personally serenade him on the violin. I cover him up with a blanket afterwards and plant a kiss on his cheek.

This is more than addiction. It's love.

Like, the storybook kind. Sleeping Beauty, that's who I am. A person immersed in their own dreamland until a kiss plunges them into the wonderful reality of the other's existence.

John is updated his blog, which sucks, when he offhandedly offers. "Sherlock, we should go out tonight?"

Immediately I am full of captivated questions. "Where to, John? Why, John? What kind of date anyway, John?"

He answers them chronologically. "The Italian place a few blocks down. Because I want to have fun. A dinner date,"

I tentatively wrap an arm around my stomach. "But... I'm fat,"

"Sherlock, look at me," I do, and feel myself blushing. "Don't put yourself down, eh? You're the smartest bloke I know. Even if you are also the most foolish,"

"You should get that on a t-shirt," I joke, and it makes him smile. I don't understand emotions very much, but I can read John. It's a worried smile. All his smiles are tainted like that.

The next night, we dress for our date on the same room. I admit, I radiate an elegance he just can't pull off. A certain grave that comes with height, posture and a stubborn sense of entitlement. I can feel John staring at my scars when my shirt is off. Just as I'm about to clip my cuff links, he holds out my wrist and places the most chaste, beautiful kiss on the first visible scar. I'm shocked, stunned at such gentle love.

"Let's have fun tonight, huh Sherlock?"

I nod in affirmation, determination shining in my eyes. We walk arm-in-arm to Angelo's, where I know we'll get served for free. Sitting at our usual table, away from the main floor but just enough to get noticed by the waiters when we want served, I watch the flame flicker in he small glass holster. "So, how's that mundane job of yours?" I ask, coyly smirking. I flag the waiter over and order for us while John is waiting to respond; it's more efficient to do it this way since he tends to waffle on for so long.

"Well, That other doctor Sarah is-"

I lean into the waiter and whisper into his ear while John carries on his monologue. "Bottle of white, the Risotto for him and just some garlic bread for me,"  patting his shoulder, I give John a wide grin of feigned interest.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes?" Shooting him an innocent smile, I let my fingers glide across the rim of my plate, absent-mindedly glancing out the window, focusing on the orange glows of traffic. "Problem, John?"

He grins wryly. "What did I just say?"

"Something about..,Sarah...?" My best guess, one I don't put much faith in. Damn him; he's been with me so long he's no longer so easily fooled. I'm impressed, but also pissed.

"That was ten minutes ago, Sherlock," he chuckles and sips from his glass: when did he wine get here? "Want a glass?" He shakes the bottle in front of me for emphasis.

"No, thanks," I dismiss and Kohn stayers babbling about a trip he took to visit vineyards. God, I love this man even if he is the most boring person on the planet sometimes.