artemisastarte: johns-neck-thing: “I do not regret it(…) But it is more. It is what I h
artemisastarte: johns-neck-thing: “I do not regret it(…) But it is more. It is what I have never known before.” You drew my Sherlock and John! I’m honoured, and touched; thank you so much. I love the way John is looking at Sherlock and Sherlock is blushing. Of course he would blush. “Sherlock?” A warm hand stroked my wrist, lingering on the pulse point. “If you sleep in that position, you will have backache in the morning.” “But my dreams were delightful: why must you wake me? I dreamed we were - together.” I opened my eyes to find him bending over me. He was in nightshirt and dressing gown, a lit candle in his hand. I had been working late on an experiment, and he had gone to bed without me. “It was successful: the reagent was the correct one. I only sat down for a moment.” My head was still muddled with sleep. “You have not slept for two nights. Come to bed, Sherlock.” He smiled and touched my cheek. “I dreamed, also - about a certain kiss.” He set the candle down, and then took both my hands to pull me up. “Sleep has given you a healthy colour.” Again he touched me, once on either cheek. “Almost you might be blushing, as you did then, when first I kissed you.” His smile had a hint of mischief in it. “Are you blushing now, Sherlock?” If I had not been before, I was then: his hand brought fire to my skin still, whenever he touched me. He rimmed my lips with one finger. “Bocca bacciata non perde ventura, ansi rinnova come fa la luna. A kissed mouth never grows old, but renews itself like the moon. The night is almost at odds with morning which is which. Come to our bed, Sherlock. It is cold without you, and I want your warmth.” From an as yet unpublished chapter. -- source link
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