Sherlock sat on the couch. Well, sat might be the wrong word for it. He was curled up in a small ball, his head tucked onto his knees. It was like he was sleeping or at least, that was what John thought when he walked in. “Sherlock,” he said, placing the grocery bags on the table, “are you…
J ibwf b epdvnfou mbcfmmfe TdjfodfOpuft po nz mbqupq. Tpnfpof offet up pqfo ju. Opx.
Please, Minus One