rough ashes ;; johnlock

Chapter six

(okay so I'm going to start every chapter with like a quote or poem. n.a means it's by me as a.n means anonymous)

Raindrops on roses,
bloodstains on linen,
long sleeves and razors,
Jumping off buildings,
like angles with fallen wings,
are just some things,
that don't bring me to my knees.
a.n

John sat on the side of the pond, the water splashing against the worn black converse that covered his feet in a rather enchanting way. Sunlight sparkled off the water sending daggers of light directly into John's eyes, making him squint to minimise the glare.
He was pondering over his thoughts.

Being rejected was one of the worst ane foremost thing that had he experienced in the short years of his life. He hadn't expected Sherlock to like him back in the intimate way he did himself, but the stomach twisting guttural feeling he felt didn't help his confidence.

There were awkward situations during meals, in which Sherlock would eat less than his usual small portions. He would treat Sherlock in a way that one wouldn't happily confronted to. He hated treating him like that, but his temper and subconscious mind got the better of him.

Later that week was more of an unexpected time where Sherlock felt his uncomfortable sorrow for John that washed through his veins.

"John?" he said quietly stirring around his drink.
"what?" snapped John craning his neck to glare at Sherlock.
"I-I'm-" he began but was shortly cut off by Johns vicious speech.
"You what?" he asked, "you're not gay, because I'm telling you that I very well know that so bloody Goddamned well, and I don't need you to tell me that."
Obviously shocked by John rash and very prompt behaviour he looked that tiny bit startled.
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry,"
Surprised he turned to Sherlock.
"really?" interrogated John hopefully.
"yes I'm sorry John, please forgive me. Please."
As his heart melted at the sound of Sherlocks pleading voice he smile and said,

"if every time we stepped on each other's toes and apologised, then willingly forgave each other, we'd never have time to be friends."

Smiling Sherlock leant over the table and placed the smallest peck of a kiss on his cheeks and went to his room.

"You're a pompous ass you know that right?" Shouted John over the sounds of footsteps and the rumbling of cars below.

"You got it,"

***

"Sherlock?"

The echoey sound of John's voice erupting from the shower, warped through the flat.

"What?"

"Where did you put my razor?"

"I didn't touch it!"

"Sherlock, it's missing."

"I didn't touch it okay,"

"I know what you do with razors, and it's not for shaving."

"So what?"

"We went over this Sherlock, razors are for shaving." explained John like a motherly teacher.

"They can also be used for pain."

"Sherlock don't make me come out of this shower, let me tell you that when I do, I shall be incredibly pissed."

"I'm not telling you."

"Fucking hell Sherlock, don't act like a child."

"Okay okay," Sherlock sighed shuffling towards his room."I'll go get them."

He walked into his bathroom, collecting the plastic packet that held most of his relief. As he emptied a quarter into one of his draws under the sink, he stopped for a moment.

"You're behind me aren't you John."

He turned around to John standing at the door way, a towel wrapped around the lower part of his torso. His golden honey colour hair hung down in strands in front of his eyes that metaphorically resembled a gleaming sapphires.

"Sherlock." he said neutrally,

"erm..."

He walked over to the draw and collected all the razors into the half filled bag that laid innocently on the floor.

"Sorry.-" began Sherlock as he ran is fingers through his hair.

"Bloody Hell Sherlock."

And with the last line of dialogue, he ambled out the door, his hair creating a trail of water from bathroom, to bathroom.

***

He had a special type of intricacy in the way he sat in his chair, his arm and legs folded like a entaglement of origami. He was absorbed in the book that he held meticulously in his osseous like hands. He seemed so peaceful, so tranquil, so cursive. He looked up ernestly at John, who insinuated to be standing, and watching.

Rather menacing, for someone to look up to after the death of a charater, Sherlock was particuarly fond of.

"Oh, hello John," Sherlock said, resuming to look back at his book.

"Ah, Sherlock, breakfast is done."

"You know I don't eat."

"Lets not go over this again." sighed John pressing his fingers to his forehead.

"Fine I'll come, but I wouldn't expect me to eat."

John led Sherlock into the kitchen, with small suppressed smile.

"Why are you smiling?" asked Sherlock impatiently.

"Screw the food you know, I want to show you something." smiled John as he collected his jumper and handed Sherlock his jacket.

"Where exactly, may I ask, is our suggested destination?"

"The park,"

It was one of the most straightforward and composed day he had experience this year. It was beautiful park, he thought, and quite frankly, resembled it towards Sherlock. However they did have quite a few qualities that they shared between each other. The complexity of their features that seemed to form slight sentences of there own with the little partials that put it all together.
They both seemed like the likeable destination for many people, almost like a tourist attraction.
And the final thing was the overwhelming fatigue that John sensed in both of them.

"It's a rather nice day," claimed Sherlock nonchalantly staring direct into the sprouting bed of roses.

"It is, I must admit." agreed John, "It's good to be away from school I guess. Much more calm."

Sherlock nodded.

"Are you okay there?"

Startled by the abrupt change of conversation, he stammered a quick "Yeah, sure."

"okay, you just seem a tad bit quiet, that's all."

"I'm fine, completely fine." he smiled, but John could see through the broken eyes and the silent screams of sadness that flooded his body.

John couldn't resist hugging him.

Sherlock say there stiffly, John's arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. He was still as ridge as a stone as John released him.

"Uh, erm, well..." he blushed as a crimson hue flushed against his cheeks.

"It's okay," he leant over and planted a kiss behind John's ear.

Dizziness made him fade as he fell back against the chair still so very, very confused.

AN: thank you so so so so much for reading this far, I'm sorry if none of it makes any sense but I'm working on it, I think there'll we 15-17 chapters so or, anyway I love you if you've kept reading to this far, you are an angel Ilysm
jbkvkkvkc lmaon

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