“Arguably never had one. Broken, at— doesn’t matter, look: they’re not wrong. Completely. Is the point. Not going to lie about it.” Maybe he should’ve done, but it’s not good, is it? Lying. Not supposed to. Not to friends, and that’s the point. John… should know. Has a right to it? Maybe; Sherlock doesn’t know. All he does know is that it’s better this much is said now before it comes up some other way later.
He’d hoped it wouldn’t, had hoped, but it’s become steadily more improbable, hasn’t it? Steadily more difficult to refrain from indulging in degrees of acceptance, of… of investment. It’s enraging, in its way. Frightening in plenty others, which is why he’s got to sort out what to say before he ends up doing something out of keeping with what he has said, something not only not good but unexpected.
Then again… then again John has does plenty of unexpected things thus far, and Sherlock hasn’t liked him any less for it. Rather the opposite. Case in point: he’s still here.
“I don’t have any friends,” Sherlock tries cautiously, eyes narrowing slightly. Hasn’t any, and hasn’t any idea what he’s supposed to do, either.
no subject
“Arguably never had one. Broken, at— doesn’t matter, look: they’re not wrong. Completely. Is the point. Not going to lie about it.” Maybe he should’ve done, but it’s not good, is it? Lying. Not supposed to. Not to friends, and that’s the point. John… should know. Has a right to it? Maybe; Sherlock doesn’t know. All he does know is that it’s better this much is said now before it comes up some other way later.
He’d hoped it wouldn’t, had hoped, but it’s become steadily more improbable, hasn’t it? Steadily more difficult to refrain from indulging in degrees of acceptance, of… of investment. It’s enraging, in its way. Frightening in plenty others, which is why he’s got to sort out what to say before he ends up doing something out of keeping with what he has said, something not only not good but unexpected.
Then again… then again John has does plenty of unexpected things thus far, and Sherlock hasn’t liked him any less for it. Rather the opposite. Case in point: he’s still here.
“I don’t have any friends,” Sherlock tries cautiously, eyes narrowing slightly. Hasn’t any, and hasn’t any idea what he’s supposed to do, either.