Onions

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Johns POV

I walked into the flat to hear sniffles. Mrs Hudson was out at a friend's house so the only one in the house was my husband. Sherlock. I ran into the kitchen to see him crying. I ran to his side and hugged him. "Are you ok dear?" I whispered.

He looked at me funny. He was still crying. I stood up a bit and kissed him. "Love?" I questioned.

He looked at me then started laughing. I glared at him. "John, I'm cutting onions," he choked out.

I looked at the counter. Oops. "What were you doing cutting onions?" I asked.

"I was trying to make dinner," he muttered.

I smiled. He had gotten better at cooking since he first tried. That was before we got together. He burned the oven beyond recognition. "I'll help," I said.

We managed to make dinner. We only burnt one this because we got distracted. Mostly because he got something sweet on his face.

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