Genre: romance i guess?
Author's note: this is 100% fictional
'John, have you seen my phone?' Sherlock asked me. I looked up and frowned.
'Why?' I asked. He never used his phone.
'Because I need it' He said while throwing stuff everywhere and making a mess of the apartement. I sighed.
'It's on the table' I said. He threw everything off the table and found his phone by hearing a soft tud when it landed on the floor. He picked it up and started tapping away. It looked like he was doing something hard, because he had a kind of pained expression on his face. I thought about what he could be doing, but decided to shrug it off and continued to read the paper. I was just about to read something about drunken driving or something, when my phone bleeped, saying I got a text. I picked it up from the little table and saw it was from Sherlock. I frowned and looked at him. He was staring at his feet. Weird, I thought. I opened it.
'Hey John, I think I may kind of like, or possibly even love you. Will you go to the theatre with me? Xx' It read. I blushed. I looked at Sherlock again. He looked so fulnerable, looking at his feet, shuffling a bit uneasy. I had never seen him like this, so shy and small. I smiled a bit and stood up. I walked to him.
'I'd be honoured' I said to him. He looked up with big eyes.
'Really?' He whispered. I smiled brightly.
'Really' I said. A grin spread on his face. He locked hands with me and leaned his forehead to mine. It was perfect.