The flat is so empty. Has been so empty since the fall. I miss him. Everyday.

I sighed, and slowly got up. Ever since he died, I've stayed in the flat wearing the purple shirt of sex. It's all I have left, besides his violin.

Shuffling out of his bedroom, I went to the kitchen and made two cups of tea, again. I wish he was still here with me.

Moving into the living room, I sat down and drank my tea. It's all I have left.

"John." I heard his voice call, again.

"You're not real." I said for the fiftieth time.

I set my cup down and pressed my hands to my ears. Trying to block out the voice.

I quickly got up and walks over to the violin. Picking it up, I started to play.

After playing it for five minutes, I felt thin, but masculine arms wrap around my waist.

"John? Is that my shirt?"

"Sherlock!" I said surprised and happy. Turning around I smiled and wrapped my arms around him.

"Happy Valentine's Day John." He whispered in my ear.

"Happy Valentine's Day Sherlock." I whispered back and smiled.

I had my Sherlock back, even if just for a day. And I was happy.