Sherlock almost roared in frustration, pacing back and forth in front of the loo door.
He didn't understand these mortals and their weird emotions. First he said that he wanted him to stay, now he says that he wants him to go. Which is it? Why can't these humans make up their feeble little minds?
"Fine. I thought you wanted me to stay. If you want me to go, I will." He turned away from the loo door. Maybe it wasn't worth the fight. If John was going to be like this, then he wasn't the John that he remememberd, that he wanted.
He'd go back to Hell. Fuck the company and fuck the Fates, he was no help anyways.
Maybe he'd stop for a good hard revenge fuck while he was at, find some junkie that he could kill that no ne would care about.
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He didn't understand these mortals and their weird emotions. First he said that he wanted him to stay, now he says that he wants him to go. Which is it? Why can't these humans make up their feeble little minds?
"Fine. I thought you wanted me to stay. If you want me to go, I will." He turned away from the loo door. Maybe it wasn't worth the fight. If John was going to be like this, then he wasn't the John that he remememberd, that he wanted.
He'd go back to Hell. Fuck the company and fuck the Fates, he was no help anyways.
Maybe he'd stop for a good hard revenge fuck while he was at, find some junkie that he could kill that no ne would care about.