221B Baker Street

roleplays-and-tea:

consultingeduction:

roleplays-and-tea:

consultingeduction:

roleplays-and-tea:

consultingeduction:

roleplays-and-tea:

consultingeduction:

roleplays-and-tea:

“Does it?” asked John, blushing slightly.  “At least it makes sense to someone,” he muttered.

“As much as it can,” Sherlock mumbled in response, still pink.

John couldn’t help himself.  He started giggling, a little hysterically, because he was sat in 221b talking with a blushing Sherlock Holmes who was not dead and who was in love with him for some unknown reason.  He set down his tea and kept giggling because he really was exhausted and still a bit overwhelmed and it was all so desperately funny for some reason. 

Sherlock raised his eyebrow, seeming slightly perplexed. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yeah,” said John, the giggles slowly receding.  “Yeah, I’m just… my life seems to have taken an abrupt right turn into surreality and…”  He sighed and wiped tears of laughter out of his eyes, still chuckling weakly.  “It’s funny.”

“Surreality,” Sherlock repeated, frowning slightly in confusion.

“Or unreality…”  John sighed.  “It’s all a bit… I keep half-expecting you to disappear again.”

Sherlock crept over to where John was sitting before sitting beside him. “I’m not,” he said softly, placing one hand on John’s. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

“And that’s the most unreal thing of all,” said John with a self-deprecating smile.  He shook his head.  “Nah, don’t mind me.  I just didn’t get enough sleep, and haven’t had enough tea to compensate for it.”

“It’s not nearly as unreal as you seem to believe,” Sherlock muttered. “As ever, John, you see, but do not observe. Although I’m not sure you see some things. There’s more tea out on the counter. Mrs. Hudson brought some more by a minute ago when you were in the kitchen.”

(Source: logs.Omegle.com)