I held onto John as he cried softly, gripping the back of my shirt. I hugged him tighter, fake tears coming from my eyes.
"I loved him..." I said softly, looking up at John.
He nodded, his eyes now glazed over. "I know Molly...I know."
I pulled away from him, looking down at my feet. "Well...I hate you leave you, but I have to go back to the lab."
He nodded, pulling his coat tighter around him. The bitter London cold nipped at us as we stood by his grave. This was John's third visit this week, I guess he was expecting Sherlock to show up. Poor man.
I had no clue were Sherlock was now, but I knew he was safe. He sent me text messages every once in a while, telling me he was alright. If he wasn't doing that, I don't know what I would do.
I pulled my hood up, looking back at John once again. "If you need anything...Just text me."
He nodded and I walked back to my car, leaning against it for a moment. I hated lying to John, especially after all we'd been through. I opened the door, strapping myself in. I looked in my rewview mirror at John, who was slowly walking back to his car. I got the bitter feeling that he loved Sherlock too, more than a friend.
I shrugged it off, starting my car. I pulled out onto the road, driving back to my apartment.
Locking my car, I pulled out the keys to my door, going to the elevator. Pressing "4" I stood patiently, waiting for the elevator to slowly go up to my floor. When the doors finally oppened, I rushed out, and too my door.
Putting the key in the lock, I turned the handle, only to find it already unlocked. Opening it slowly, I peered in. My heart stopped as I saw a dark figure in my kitchen.
"Stop! Or I'll scream!" I said loudly.
I heard the figure laugh deeply and my heart jumpped up to my throat. "Sherlock?"
He turned around, his bright eyes meeting mine. "Hello Molly."
