He led me out the door to go to the restaurant. I didn't realize that, at the time, we were running. I was tired of running. It appears that running is all we do together. Sherlock stopped at the corner of the street to talk to a slender figure. Possibly a woman of my height and age. Was I picking up Sherlock's deductive skills? She wrapped her arms around his waist in an embrace. I turned and faced John, he looked at me in confusion. I started walking to Sherlock, but he glared at me harshly. I stepped back and turned left, toward John. I grabbed John's forearm and we ran. He was asking me where we were going, but I didn't answer. I just turned around and shrugged.
When we reached the next block, I turned and faced Sherlock. He was walking in my direction. I looked at John. He grabbed my hand and started guiding me around the corner. We turned left and started running again. I felt me cell vibrate. It was Sherlock.
"Where did you run off to? And why did you run?" he asked me in a cold voice. I didn't answer him. It's just like the incident 4 years ago. He told me to come back to him. I did as he told and started my way to him.
"Where are you going?" John asked as he followed me.
"Back to despair," I said, monotoned.