Not knowing what came over him, Sherlock grabbed the nearest thing to him, the dictionary he'd used earlier, and threw it across the room. Unsatisfied and still needing to get the unwanted emotions out of his system along with the hatred he now had for his transport's betrayal, he picked up a glass of water that had been sitting on the table and threw it as well. It hit the wall near the fireplace with a satisfying crash.
John rushed out of the kitchen into the living room at the sound of the glass breaking. "What the hell are you doing?!" he yelled. He looked from the water and broken glass on the floor to Sherlock who was still sitting on the sofa with a hand covering his eyes. "You truly are pathetic, Sherlock, you know that? Absolutely pathetic. Throwing a tantrum like a two year old just to get what you want. I already told you, it's not going to work." Though Sherlock couldn't see, John tilted his head toward the glass on the floor. "And I'm not cleaning that up." He then went back to the kitchen to finish making his tea.
Sherlock picked up another book from the table and threw it across the room, knocking over a lamp. He was so angry with himself, letting his emotions take over. And yet he still couldn't stop the tears no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't even get into the safety of his mind palace to help him suppress everything he was feeling.
Sherlock brought his feet up on the sofa, keeping his face hidden in his hands. He felt absolutely mortified that he was truly crying, and in front of John no less. Sure he'd shed a few tears here and there at crime scenes in front of John, but this was completely different. Sherlock felt raw, exposed, and vulnerable. He never felt so out of control in his life and it was all because of John.
John was obviously not his friend, and now thought him pathetic. Normally Sherlock wouldn't care what people thought of him, but with John, it was completely different. Anything John said or did mattered, and he could surprisingly admit that he was a lot happier now that John was a part of his life. John thought he was brilliant and clever at his deductions, and didn't seem to tire of saying so. He even put up with his experiments and rude behavior. Most importantly, Sherlock liked John's company and even started taking John's feelings into consideration at times, though rare it was. John didn't seem to mind his company either, or at least he thought that might be the case. In any event, no one else had stuck around as long as John had. The longest he'd had a flatmate in the past was maybe a month and a half max.
Re: Just One Word - Part 6
John rushed out of the kitchen into the living room at the sound of the glass breaking. "What the hell are you doing?!" he yelled. He looked from the water and broken glass on the floor to Sherlock who was still sitting on the sofa with a hand covering his eyes. "You truly are pathetic, Sherlock, you know that? Absolutely pathetic. Throwing a tantrum like a two year old just to get what you want. I already told you, it's not going to work." Though Sherlock couldn't see, John tilted his head toward the glass on the floor. "And I'm not cleaning that up." He then went back to the kitchen to finish making his tea.
Sherlock picked up another book from the table and threw it across the room, knocking over a lamp. He was so angry with himself, letting his emotions take over. And yet he still couldn't stop the tears no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't even get into the safety of his mind palace to help him suppress everything he was feeling.
Sherlock brought his feet up on the sofa, keeping his face hidden in his hands. He felt absolutely mortified that he was truly crying, and in front of John no less. Sure he'd shed a few tears here and there at crime scenes in front of John, but this was completely different. Sherlock felt raw, exposed, and vulnerable. He never felt so out of control in his life and it was all because of John.
John was obviously not his friend, and now thought him pathetic. Normally Sherlock wouldn't care what people thought of him, but with John, it was completely different. Anything John said or did mattered, and he could surprisingly admit that he was a lot happier now that John was a part of his life. John thought he was brilliant and clever at his deductions, and didn't seem to tire of saying so. He even put up with his experiments and rude behavior. Most importantly, Sherlock liked John's company and even started taking John's feelings into consideration at times, though rare it was. John didn't seem to mind his company either, or at least he thought that might be the case. In any event, no one else had stuck around as long as John had. The longest he'd had a flatmate in the past was maybe a month and a half max.