Jan 14, 2022
@itsusxallysubtextâ | cont.
  "Of course. Did you think I WOULDN'T?"
   âMhm. You were takinâ too long.â
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@itsusxallysubtextâ | cont.
  "Of course. Did you think I WOULDN'T?"
   âMhm. You were takinâ too long.â
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@itsusxallysubtext
"John! Sherlock's not here; did you need something?" It wasn't often that it was just John popping in for a tick. More often than not the ever impressive, if slightly irritating, detective was with him in some manner. Fingers moved to cover the body laid out on the slab with a sheet just in case her friend didn't care to see a dead corpse, that and the poor man was clearly murdered he could at least get some dignity here.
Scars
@itsusxallysubtextâ
  John had barely noticed the touch, because he had been too engrossed in the book heâd been reading. It was rare these days that he actually got the time to read anything, let alone finish it, so when he finally surfaced from his thoughts he found himself looking over.
  âEverything alright?â
  The touch wasnât unpleasant, quite the opposite actually, but it was surprising to say the least.
  She hadnât fully intended to reach for the scars peeking at her from where his loose shirt dipped over his shoulder, they just caught her fascination. Xiomara stands behind Johnâs chair on her porch, with the mug of tea sheâs just made him. She whips her hand back when he turns to her, embarrassed by her absentmindedness. Putting the mug down on the side table.
 âSorry, I noticed and then, well you know how I adore drifting off on tangents. I didnât mean to disturb your reading.â
  The early morning sun still cool with dew, the sea lapping at the shore further down her beach. She moves to the yoga mat on the sandstone porch, just by where the steep stairs descend to the beach below. Stretching her legs, palms to the mat she shifts up into a handstand, slow, controlled, with a mewling whine of the first, morning stretch.Â
âI started thinking about all the stories we both have, they're written across our bodies in pinks and whites. I think its a more romantic idea than a realistic idea really.â
The siren closes her eyes, breathing slowly. Xiomara wears the crisp, white, linen shirt she always sleeps in, it sits bunched up by her shoulder blades, revealing more than her own fair share of scars in return. White whisps hatching across most of her upper back, darker punctures following the curve of her ribcage.
@itsusxallysubtextâ || continued
âYâ bastard-!â Greg gasped as the freezing feet were shoved against him, a shudder flickering down his spine as he tried to nudge the offending extremities away. For a moment he considered kicking John out of the bed but was quick to realise that would be totally unfair.
âMânoâ that cruel,â He huffed out a breath, taking a moment before settling himself next to John properly and putting his own not-cold feet atop his; if he couldnât get away from the cold heâd at least try to lessen it.
itsusxallysubtext - Stepped through the portal.
â...do I know you?â
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itsusxallysubtext  answered:
       âWhat the BLOODY hell do you think happened to my eye?â John asked and if he could have raised an eyebrow he surely would have.
        âSomeone punched me in the FACE.â
â I donât know. â Deep exhale and a shrug. Potent as it was, deduction had its limits. âYou were still covering it few seconds ago. Someone might have poked it out just as easily. â
@itsusxallysubtext
  John´s lips curved into a SMILE as he wrapped his arms a little tighter around her. They hadn´t been apart for THAT long and yet he had to admit that he felt the same. He had missed not only her smell, but Molly in general. Her smile, the way she dressed, how she sometimes stumbled over her words and justâŚhow she made him FEEL.
    âMhmâŚâ John let out a content sigh as he pressed a kiss to her temple before pulling back a little eventually. âI´ve missed you too, I`m glad I`m back.â
 â  NEXT time pick a m e d i c a l convention we can both go to. â her laugh rings in his ears, as she pulls back, but only a little, close enough that her arms remain loosely wrapped around him. â Weâre BOTH doctors after all, there must be something out there for practitioners and specialist registrars.  â      She was only teasing, of course, as she leaned into him. Molly hadnât been lying in saying she had MISSED John, more than she thought she would, actually. It didnât help that the sight of Sherlock reminded her of his absence, â Did you have a good time ? â
@itsusxallysubtext continued from [x]
     John actually stopped dead in his tracks to give the other man a LOOK, his eyebrow raised. âI´m pretty sure YOU invited yourself onto this mission.â He then clarified.
âYes, well, I invited myself along because you needed my voice of reason.â Mycroft replied, waving a hand dismissively. It was practically the same thing as John inviting him along, was it not? Well... Okay, it wasnât, but that didnât matter.