GUYS HERES MY TUMBLR. B-YORKE.TUMBLR.COM
i dont post here anymore, so follow my actual account, not this one. :)
John sits at his laptop screen, watching the cursor blink impatiently, waiting for him to type something, anything, just to say the things he needs to say. He holds his breath and types a short entry, knowing that everything he wanted to tell Sherlock was contained within those words.
A single tear rolls down his cheek as he clicks send. He wonders if it will ever get easier to think about him, to read about him and to write about him.