Author's Note: Short Drabble about John. I have a few of these short stories, so check them out. Enjoy :)
It was strange to find that Mrs. Hudson had a piano down in her flat. It was a small thing and John had come across is quite by accident. The landlady had invited him down for tea while Sherlock ran off for some reason or another without saying anything to John.
Magazines had covered the bench and figurines littered the top of the baby grand. It was pushed to the side.
It was really a shame. John was sure it had be a beautiful instrument once upon a time.
While Mrs Hudson was in the next room, John brushed his hand across the lid of the Piano's keys before pulling it up. He traced the keys with his fingers and he remembered always wanting to learn.
He remembered songs he would play before he was shuttled off to the war.
Before he knew what danger was.
He found Middle C, tempted to press it -to hear the hammer strike the strings below, but he didn't. Instead, he moved fingers along the other letters, stopping at the next C and lower higher. He mimed out a song, brushing his fingers along the proper keys, recalling the cords as he touched them - B Flat Major, D Minor, et cetra.
It was a shame that he would have to leave it. He closed the lid of piano when he heard Mrs. Hudson call from the kitchen, and shuffled along the floor to help her with the tea tray.
Maybe one day, he would be able to play again.
John gave a strained smile, trying not to think of the Piano shoved off to the corner of the room.