sweet dreams

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


2. frozen tears

John was walking around the cold streets of London like he had done it so many times after sherlock's fall.
He couldnt stand being in a crowd of people anymore, so he went out and watched the snow falling.

A tear froze on his cheek when he arrived at the graveyard. He hadnt payed attention on where he was going,  and he had no idea how he came there, but there he was.

Staring at a black gravestone, crying tears that would freeze immediately, wondering how all of this had been able to happen and not realizing the pale tall man standing behind a tree, watching him.

Sherlock couldnt stand this anymore. He had watched John cry for two years now, and every time he felt worse. He just had to do something. Sherlock made a decision. He would get back to John. His John.

John had fallen on his knees without realizing it. He stood up and turned around, wanting to go home and drown his pain in alcohol, when he bumped into something.

Something black and soft.
John looked up in a face he hadnt seen for two years, a face he had cryed over every night, the face belonging to the most beautiful and geniuos man in the world.

He glared at sherlock. Then out of the sudden, he slapped him in the face.
Sherlock wasnt really surprised, as he thought that was a natural reaction, but he was indeed surprised when John pulled him close and kissed him.

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