I turn my back to the bright light. Mrs. Hudson has just lifted the curtains and I cursed her, because she did it. Like yesterday.

After her surprised smile we immediately loosened our hands. She kept talking about her ex-man. She was glad she was no longer living with him. Till Doomsday. Her narrative took two hours. I've not looked once at John. He either. Finally she was tired and she went crying to her room. John and I laughed at her. Therefore we forgot the whole thing. Then I stood up to play the violin, because John wanted to hear it. First John went upstairs to control Mrs. Hudson. He didn't want Mrs. Hudson did anything to herself. Then he came back even more laughing. He fold his arm around me. I introduced him to take a seat and enjoy my own composed piece.

"Comely." He said. He held a pillow against his body and nodded approvingly. I pulled him out of the seat and the pillow fell at my feet.

"Your turn." He refused, but finally he admitted, because I've already admitted.

"I never touched a musical instrument. I don't want to destroy your violin," was his excuse.

"Just do it."

"Sure?"

"Do it." I urged him. I sat down on the ground and I picked up the pillow. He held his fiddlestick on the strings. He tried to puts his hands well. Before he started, he had the giggles and it did not stop. Laughing, he tried to imitate me, but it failed completely. The sound was like screeching tires and his face the famous corpse.

"Prodigious, don't you think?"

"Definitely." I laughed. I took the violin quickly out of his hands and I was looking for a game in the closet. The whole evening we were amused with a lot of games and we no longer thought about the incident earlier that day. At three o'clock finally we were both lying in our own bed. Our friendship was built.

***

I slept only four hours and I rub my eyes. I was fun last night. Tired I get up and I'm looking for a decent sweater to wear. She had some clothes laid on the bed for me. When I slept, they were all fallen to the ground. I hope the shower gives me a bit energy and I turn on. I let the jets run over my body. I'm shivering underneath, thinking about yesterday.

Dressed I set the table. Mrs. Hudson went to the bakery for us and she greets me with a kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning." I greet her. I give her a little hug.

"Isn't the handsome still awake?" She asks. She takes the fresh rolls and put them in Sherlock's grapes bowl.

"Handsome?" I laugh.

"Isn't that the nickname you give him?" She looks surprised.

"His name is Sherlock, so I call him that way." I inform her. She walks down the stairs and she leaves me alone. Waiting for handsome.

I wait already fifteen minutes at the table. Mrs. Hudson tried to wake him, but he still doesn't want get up. I have to speak Sherlock, about yesterday. I can curb my feelings. I got this! I don't know what it represents, he started.

I hear footsteps in the hallway. He would have been awake? I stand up and place a vase on the table for the atmosphere.

"Good morning, John." He greets me. He looks tired and totally stale. "Don't pay attention to me. I was me soon."

"Listen, Sherlock, we have to-" He takes a bite of his sandwich and he picks up my words.

"John, thanks for breakfast."

"Sherlock, yesterday, what-"

"Delicious." He sit opposite me. He tastefully eat the rolls. "What did you want to say?"

"Yesterday, you know, what is it for?"

Sherlock sighs. He pushes his plate forwards and he averts his gaze from me. "You, who can't play the violin." He knows as well as me, what I talk about. I am a little disappointed. He avoids the topic.

"Sherlock, I'm not talking about that."

"Sorry, I mean... I do not know what it represents." Sherlock thinks about what he wants to say. He wants to avoid erroneous communication.

"It felt good." I react to reassure him.

"I... I wanted to try. I was like I had to do it. My conscience told." Sherlock sighs louder and he rubs his curls. He pushes his plate back to him and he counts the crumbs on his plate.

"Never mind. Everyone does what he thinks is right."

"Aren't you angry?"

"Not at all. I'm just wondering what it means." I take a sandwich and I cut the sandwich. I don't want terrify him, because I am staring at him. It only makes it harder for him.

"Kind of... Love." He doubts. He think his words make me angry, but he certainly does not. "We are not just friends, but best friends. Even more, with our good heart we are able to handle the whole world. We overcome the world.

"Definitely."