After Sherlock sent the last text to John, he strolled over to his violin and started playing a wonderful melody. The moonlight went in through the window, His body, his face were slashed with the moonlight, paneled dark and light. He closed his eyes while playing, thinking about John. He hoped that John will come tomorrow. He knew John had to work the next day. But maybe he comes visiting afterwards. Sherlock didn't know why. But he felt like he wanted John's attention, company the whole time. Not because he felt pity for him, no. For the first time, Sherlock accepted someone in his life. And he liked it.

The next day, nothing special happened. Sherlock laid the whole day on the sofa, being in his mind palace. His stomach grumbled loudly the whole day, reminding him of the fact that he hadn't eaten properly in days. He did eat when John told him to. But he only ate two slices of bread.
Before Sherlock headed to bed, he took a shower. And after a long time, he finally closed the curtains in his bedroom so he can wake up without the sun shining brightly in his eyes.

It's Friday now, and John still didn't come to visit. Sherlock felt disappointed but cheered up at the thought that he will see him in school tonight. Sherlock was lying on the sofa, his stomach gave another angry gurgle. He felt weak and tired, and it was hard for him to think straight. After a while, Sherlock stood up. He decided to eat a toast or something. When he stood up, his legs were slightly shaking. He leaned against the armrest of the sofa and took a deep breathe. The last time that he ate something properly was with Ms. Hudson, almost a week ago. Sherlock plunked himself down again as he heard footsteps on the stairs. He growled, knowing that it is Ms. Hudson.

"Good morning Sherlock." She said as she approached him with a morning coffee in her hands. What Sherlock seemed to appreciate. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up more straight again. It wasn't easy, because his arms were trembling. But after a lot effort he managed to sit upright. Ms. Hudson frowned at him and handed him the coffee.

"You look pale dear, are you feeling alright?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, of course I am alright." He snapped. She just sighed and turned her gaze away from him, planning to have a look in the kitchen. Sherlock could feel another rumble coming on, so he put both his hands on his stomach and pressed hard. But it didn't stop rumbling, it was a loud noise, like thunder. Ms. Hudson immediately looked back at Sherlock as she heard it.

"When's the last time you ate?" She asked suspiciously, her eyes narrowing. Sherlock just rolled his eyes and scoffed, refusing to answer. "Sherlock, dear?" She said her forehead crinkling with worry.

"Wednesday." He mumbled.

"Sherlock that's two days ago!" She said, raising her voice with concern. "What did you eat?" She added.

"Five slices bread." He lied, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

"That's not enough dear. You have to eat a cooked meal!"

"I ate a cooked meal Saturday with you." He remembered her, sipping his coffee and then frowned at her. "For god's sake, there is no sugar in it!" He snapped.

"You mean, you ate 5 slices bread in 6 days?" She asked, her eyes widened, walking over to the kitchen to grab sugar. Sherlock didn't response. He just hummed. Ms. Hudson opened the cabinet and took a couple sugars in her hand. When she swiveled around. Her eyes were fixed on a plate standing at the sink. She gasped as she saw a plate with three slices of bread on it. "Sherlock!" She yelled, walking over to him. He clenched his teeth, already knowing what was coming.

"You only ate two slices!" She complained. "I will make you a decent meal." She added and walked away.

"I don't want it!" He spat out, lying. He's starving and he isn't in a good state to make food for himself. Sherlock then sighed, lying his cup on the small table beside him and tried to get up. "You're useless." He mumbled to his body. Sherlock now was standing up but stumbled back down on the cold floor, in front of the sofa. He grunted in annoyance. There he sat. On the floor with his weak body, refusing to help him get up.

Again, there are footsteps on the stairs. Sherlock frowned. Ms. Hudson only left two minutes ago. She can't be back already. While the footsteps were getting closer, Sherlock kept sitting on the floor. He didn't want her to see him climbing on the sofa like a weak puppy if she entered. He stared blankly ahead, waiting on her to disturb him. When the door opened, he slightly turned his head and saw John Watson standing at the door, with a take-away coffee in his hands.

"John?" Sherlock asked mildly. John cleared his throat and spoke up.

"The woman from downstairs let me in. I hope you don't mind." He said, looking uncomfortable at Sherlock. Sherlock shook his head and smiled fondly at John, what made John smile as well with a blush appearing on his cheeks. "May I come in?"

"Of course." Sherlock replied with a nod. John walked inside and closed the door behind him. He smiled with a frown as he saw Sherlock sitting on the floor and walked over to him.

"I hope it's still warm." He said. "And what are you doing on the floor?" John added with a chuckle and outstretched his arm, handing the coffee. He then looked dubiously at Sherlock's hand, which was trembling as he accepted the coffee.

"Oh, um. It actually sit good." Sherlock said hesitantly, hoping that John didn't see the used coffee cup on the table. "And thank you, John." His stomach growled again, this time quietly.

"You're welcome." He smiled and walked away. "See you tonight then?" John asked as his hand reached the doorknob. Sherlock frowned, his heart rate accelerated.

"You're leaving already?"

"Oh yes, I mean I don't want to disturb your time."

"You don't."

"You sure?" He replied quickly.

"Yes. And I'm sure Ms. Hudson the landlady is making you tea." He said with a tiny smirk.

"Okay then." John said with a joyous voice and walked over to an armchair and sat down. He felt comfortable sitting in this chair. It was like it was made especially for him. He outstretched his arms on the armrest and smiled comfortable. He then looked over at Sherlock and snorted.

"Are you really going to stay sitting on the floor?" John asked amused.  Sherlock didn't know what to answer. His body is still refusing to work with him, and Sherlock didn't want John to see him struggling to get on the sofa. Sherlock's lips perked at the corner into a sort of half-smile. He then took a deep breath and tried to stand up but his legs wouldn't support him and he fell back down. John gasped, jumping upright, seeing Sherlock half lying on the floor, body trembling.

"Although I would love to get up, it seems that my body does not agree." Sherlock muttered, knowing that John can see that there is something wrong with him, since he's a doctor. So Sherlock has no reason to continue to pretend and lie. John started into motion at that, and made his way over to Sherlock, pulling him up with little effort. It astonished him at just how light his teacher really was. He carefully helped Sherlock onto the sofa and sat down beside him.

"Are you okay?" John asked worriedly.

"Yes, I am... Don't worry John." Sherlock replied. John then put his hand on Sherlock's forehead, what made Sherlock shiver.

"You're pale."

"Am I not always?" He replied dryly and just then the door opened and Ms. Hudson walked inside with a strange 'hoo hoo' noise and with tea and coffee in her hands.

"Food is ready in five minutes dear." She said handing him coffee. She then looked over at John and handed him the tea. She smiled sweetly at him and spoke up. "Are you Sherlock's friend?" She asked wonderingly. John swallowed, he didn't know what to answer, and flickered his eyes towards Sherlock. Sherlock sighed softly.

"Yes he is my friend, John Watson." Sherlock said briskly.

"Oh." She said shocked with a smile plastered on her face, her mouth covered with both her hands. "I'm so happy that Sherlock finally met someone." She added cheerfully. Somehow she thought that John and Sherlock were dating. John blushed fervently at these words and looked away.

"We are just friends." Sherlock informed her with a frown.

"Take care of him, John. He can be a child sometimes.  He ate two slices bread in six days." She whispered. Sherlock Huffed.

"I am right here?" He said annoyed, trying to cross his arms, what succeeded.

"I'll go check on your food." She giggled as she looked at the two and then she trotted away. John pressed his lips together, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Is she serious?" John asked.

"What?" He replied innocently.

"About your eating."

"Oh, um..." Sherlock looked away from John. "Yes, well maybe." He shrugged.

"You're going to kill yourself, if you keep going like this." John said quite firmly. Sherlock still didn't look back at him. "I can't lose my teacher, can I?"

"I won't die John." Sherlock said as he finally met John's eyes again. He immediately froze for a moment as he saw John's blue eyes, staring with concern at him. "I won't." He repeated, this time softly. John then smiled and sighed in relief.

"Why are you doing this?" he paused. "Not eating..."

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I forgot."

"I will have to keep an eye on you then." John said playfully, smiling. Sherlock rolled his eyes but smiled as well, sipping his coffee.