I called it. Conan's sick now on top of having a concussion. Now he's hanging around the house (under doctor's orders) and bored as he usually is when sick. I've brought home some mystery novels for him and he'll probably read through those in no time. If he reads through the whole thing and doesn't stop after he figures out who the culprit is. Chances are I'll be going back for more before the week is out. Trying to convince Sherlock to play games with him and I still refuse to play Cluedo with him.
Sherlock and I went to look at flats today. The first two we dismissed pretty quickly, they needed too much work after the storm. Sherlock actually broke the ceiling in one of them to prove a point to the one letting it flat out. I probably shouldn't have laughed but I did. Needless to say that we will not be invited back to anything that native owns. We didn't even go in to look at the second one. Another storm would have had it falling down around our feet, crushing in the process.
It was eerie looking around the third one. The main floor had an extremely similar layout to our flat at Baker Street. To see Sherlock standing there when... when my last memories of our old flat was when it was empty. When I believed Sherlock to be dead. I thought he'd never stand in front of the fireplace or have various body parts strewn about the kitchen for his experiments or hear him playing his violin in front of the windows. It's just...
Different. He's hasn't been dead to me in almost nine months now, we've been sharing a space in all that time too but there's something about him standing in that place that reminds me of those few weeks when there was nothing but empty echoes in London. I can still remember sitting in my chair, staring at his vacant one and thinking that he'd never sit there anymore. It'll take a while... to not have that sense of dread that he won't be there when I come home after work. But it's the one we've decided on taking. Not in bad shape and has enough bedrooms. Well, nearly enough. Sherlock and I will continue sharing but these days I get about as much sleep as he does.
Week 2, Day 2 | January 16th
Sherlock and I went to look at flats today. The first two we dismissed pretty quickly, they needed too much work after the storm. Sherlock actually broke the ceiling in one of them to prove a point to the one letting it flat out. I probably shouldn't have laughed but I did. Needless to say that we will not be invited back to anything that native owns. We didn't even go in to look at the second one. Another storm would have had it falling down around our feet, crushing in the process.
It was eerie looking around the third one. The main floor had an extremely similar layout to our flat at Baker Street. To see Sherlock standing there when... when my last memories of our old flat was when it was empty. When I believed Sherlock to be dead. I thought he'd never stand in front of the fireplace or have various body parts strewn about the kitchen for his experiments or hear him playing his violin in front of the windows. It's just...
Different. He's hasn't been dead to me in almost nine months now, we've been sharing a space in all that time too but there's something about him standing in that place that reminds me of those few weeks when there was nothing but empty echoes in London. I can still remember sitting in my chair, staring at his vacant one and thinking that he'd never sit there anymore. It'll take a while... to not have that sense of dread that he won't be there when I come home after work. But it's the one we've decided on taking. Not in bad shape and has enough bedrooms. Well, nearly enough. Sherlock and I will continue sharing but these days I get about as much sleep as he does.