For the truly brilliant watsoninthetardis 's oneshot contest!! :))
I hope you like it<3

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I was back.

Sherlock Holmes.

Back for good.

The world's only consulting detective back again after being pronounced dead for two years.

Ready to go.

Ready to be Sherlock Holmes.

I needed to get to know London again.

Breathe it in.

Feel every quiver of its beating heart.

But there was one thing I needed to do first.

One person I needed to see.

John.

John Watson.

My addiction, my air, my blood, the antidote to save me from myself.

I needed to see him again.

The last time I saw him was when he visited my grave last weekend.

He brought the same bunch of achromatic lilies, and with trembling hands placed them down next to my headstone, removing the dead ones from the week before and tossing them aside.

After wiping away the tears that formed at the corners of his eyes and clearing his throat abruptly, he would always sit next to my grave and chat to me about anything and everything as if I was actually there.

And I was.

And it pained me to have to sit behind that old oak tree and listen to his voice, in silence.

So far away yet so close.

And then after a while, he would get up, stretch, look around to see if anyone was watching, and lean forwards to place a small, gentle, tear soaked kiss on the top of my grave before whispering softly, 'Goodbye my Reichenbach hero, I'll see you next weekend,' and leaving without another word.

And now he would get to see his Reichenbach hero.

Let me hold you for the last time,
It's the last chance to feel again,
But you broke me, now I can't feel anything,

As I jumped into the taxi, my heart pounding with nerves, I gave the cabbie the address of the restaurant Mycroft had told me he was at.

He told me not to get involved.

I don't really know what he meant by that but how would Mycroft know anything of importance anyway?

When I love you it's so untrue,
I can't even convince myself,
When I'm speaking it's the voice of someone else,

As the taxi stopped at the traffic lights, I remembered that time when me and John got a bit 'too drunk' at the Scotland Yard Christmas party and ended up sneaking back to Baker Street early and sitting opposite each other with our legs crossed on the floor of the lounge.

I remembered us sitting there with the lights off, giggling, with only the moonlight shining upon our faces.

I remembered looking at John, our eyes locking intensely as I scanned the features of his moonlight stricken face.

His crevices, his dimples, the way his perfectly shaped salmon pink lips curved upwards slightly at the corners when he caught me studying him.

The way that his majestic scar on his shoulder just came into show when he leaned slightly to the left, like a glorious badge of honour and dauntlessness, hidden away from the world like a precious ruby.

I remembered when he slowly uncrossed his legs and crawled towards me, his pupils dilated and his breathing soft and steady.

I remembered him sitting right in front of me so that our knees were touching.

I remembered him leaning forwards slightly so that our noses were brushing, our alcohol infused breath's mixing together, creating a cocktail of lust and vulnerability.

I remembered the way his lips felt soft, yet hard against my own.
How they felt like a cold fire.
How they felt electric and dynamic and wonderful and pleasurable all at once.

I remembered the sparks I felt in my lower abdomen when he touched my collarbone, and the fireworks I felt in my chest when he attached his lips to it and planted light, feathery kisses along the pale skin that formed around it.

Oh, it tears me up
I tried to hold on but it hurts too much,

I remembered how that night soon turned into passionate, desperate decelerations of drunken love, and how the silence of 221b was soon filled with whispers of bottled up emotions and sonorous cries of need and lust.

I tried to forgive but it's not enough to make it all okay,

I remembered the next morning as I woke up with my blogger curled up in the rumpled sheets next to me with his head on my chest, breathing softly.

I remembered the way he stirred slightly and how his eyes fluttered open and filled with admiration and love as he saw my face peering down at him wearing the same expression.

I remembered that he said he loved me with a trembling voice and how he said that he never ever wanted to lose me.

That was the morning of the fall.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when the cab driver told me we arrived at our destination.

I looked up at the restaurant and felt my stomach flip over.

I was going to see my blogger.

I stepped out of the cab and paid the driver before slowly walking towards the window of the restaurant to see if I could see the man who saved me.

I started scanning my eyes around the room until I finally saw him.

And then,

my heart stopped.

I saw him knelt on one knee.

I saw him open a box.

I saw a blonde woman stood opposite him with a wide grin.

I saw her nod her head and mouth an excited 'yes' as she embraced my John with a passionate kiss.

That's when time felt like it stopped.

Those five seconds felt like a lifetime.

Tick,

Tick,

Tick,

Tick,

T i c k.

You can't play on broken strings,
You can't feel anything,

I turned away and hauled another taxi in silence.

That your heart don't want to feel,
I can't tell you something that ain't real,

The taxi ride home was the longest journey I had ever taken.

Memories burning into a crisp, just like they never even mattered.

Oh, the truth hurts and lies worse,
How can I give anymore?

My John.

No longer mine.

When I love you just a little less than before.