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Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor
Reachin' for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind
For me it happens all the time
John laid in his bed at 221B Baker Street with red, crying eyes. Even after nearly 7 months of knowing Sherlock wasn't coming back, he still couldn't get over the fact that he was gone.
All the pictures of him and Sherlock were scattered across the floor like leaves in the wind. A small movement was felt inside of him and he rubbed his swollen stomach, containing one piece of the man that left them behind.
It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need yo
Sta.sh
