![]() ![]() "Alcohol often plays a role in failing marriages and your father reeks of it. "No, I know what you meant, I just don't know how you know?" ![]() "And if it wasn't the cheating that tipped your mother towards signing the divorce papers, it surely was your father's drinking." And your sister obviously doesn't want to be here." "Neither of them are wearing their wedding rings anymore, her tan line is more distinct than his. "Your mother has already found a new boyfriend, your father has cheated long ago, so he can't complain, and your sister knows, which is why she doesn't care to spend time with them anymore. He was very nice-looking and so John pulled off his hat and hid it behind his back, not wanting to embarrass himself further. He had his nice dress shirt sleeves curled up to his elbows, hands dirty from sand and mud. Staring at him was a boy with very curly, very dark hair he probably hadn't brushed in a few hours. "Your parents are going to have a divorce." John had been hopping around in the shallow water and was now back on the beach, building a castle from the sand on one of England's seldom sand beaches. That was until a voice broke through his reverie. It was also the very daytrip he had been begging for over the last few days and his mum finally obliged, so John wouldn’t complain. ![]() Normally when going outside, John could avoid his mum's embarrassing measures for sun protection, but since they were on a daytrip even Harry agreed to, so John wore the damn hat. John was wearing a ridiculous hat his mother made him put on and they were at the beach. He was seven or eight, and it was summer. The first time they met was so long ago, John could hardly remember much else from that time. He wouldn't let Sherlock slip through his fingers again. But John was certain that it would be the last. And just for the sake of it, he responded with ![]()
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