Just wrote a little bit – feels so good.
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The moment he senses the change in her, he wonders how he ever missed it.
(“Sentiment,” Sherlock had said with disdain. John was never one for learning.)
“Oh Johnny, just look at you. It’s almost enough to give a girl a guilty conscience.” The cold, sharp gleam in her eyes sends a sweep of nausea over him, so foreign from the warm gaze he’d grown to love.
She’s sucking in a breath through a cigarette – he didn’t even know she smoked. Her hollowed cheeks and the way she tilts her head to exhale are so redolent of his lover that his mind rebels against the familiarity, claws against itself.
“I guess you’ll want your ring back, eh baby?” She smirks, twisting it off her finger. She drops it in his lap, his bound hands writhing behind his back in denial, wanting to catch it, to throw it so far away that he can’t hear the tinkle it would make on the concrete.
The sound of so many things breaking.
Awwww yeah, TONIGHT IS FICLET NIGHT. <3 GO SCIENCE GO!