Sherlock woke slowly. A carefully developed habit, stretching his senses to make himself aware of whatever he was waking up to. At Baker Street this would only take a moment. He would feel the material of the sofa against his neck, smell John’s faded cologne, hear his exhale as he quietly read the paper in his claimed chair. Then after staying
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Thanks so much! More's on the way. It's been a little rough getting going but it gets better as it goes.
Thanks for reading!
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Great work, js.
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Thanks!
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