sweet dreams

Just another johnlock tale.
Feels, many feels. A lot of johnlock-fluff and maybe some tears.

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1. snow

Johns mind was in a cloud of warm, soft something. Everything he could feel was that he was comfortable and warm, eventhough he couldnt say if he was standing, laying or even flying.  Actually he couldnt speek at all, he was far too sleepy to open his mouth.

John opened his eyes and fully woke up. He was in his bed, in THEIR bed, and he could feel Sherlocks arm around his shoulder.

He remembered the previous evening and smiled. All the wonderful kisses, the wonderful man beside him, all that was nearly too perfect to be real.

He slowly got out of the bed, carefully not to disturb his lover's sleep, and quietly opened the window. He watched the sun rising beyond the clouds as it quietly began to snow. The cold wind blowed some fluffy, white and light snowflakes through the window straight into his face, where they melted.

John Watson woke up because of something wet on his face.
He tried to wipe away the tears that were rushing down his cheek, but the memory of the awefully beautiful dream he just had was ripping apart his heart.

John punched his pillow and whispered:"why did you jump sherlock.  Why did you do that to me?"

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