"That's it Sherlock!" I shouted at the man lying on the couch, "I don't understand how you can be so god damn infuriating!" I shouted ever more, throwing my arms into the air and wanting to hit something.
It's Sherlock's fault I haven't been able to blog lately. He decided to completely destroy my computer in an acid experiment and I've had to wait until now to get the new one in the mail.
"I'm not sure I understand, John," Sherlock countered in a cool tone, remaining where he was. He didn't even so much as look at me.
I heaved in a breath to shout again and clenched me teeth to stop from doing so. Clenching my fists I hissed out a breath.
"Fine," I growled, "you can have it your way then," I seethed, stomping into our shared room. The first thing I did was grab my wallet. I then proceeded to pack a back for a couple of days and nights.
I know that I was being impulsive, but I was not at my best. First I lost my job because of Sherlock. Then I had to deal with him being sick, and in and around the cute moments, he was a pain in the arse. Now I've had to deal with not having a lap top or any of my file for anything. So, I think I'm behaving just fine.
I wasn't going to go to Harry's, nor Sarah's place. I decided that the one place I could go that Sherlock wouldn't be able to easily figure out would be Molly's. I decided to leave my phone at home as well so Sherlock wouldn't be able to contact me.
Believe me, Molly is a nice woman. I got to learn a whole lot more about her when I was left with her while Sherlock dealt with the bodies. Her and I managed to hold a steady friendship. After all, she was the only person I could really talk to about Sherlock.
Storming out the room with my bag, I didn't even pay Sherlock a passing glance. Checking my watch I saw it was already ten o'clock at night. I knew Molly would still be at St. Bart's. Stomping down the stairs, I headed into the cool night air of London to hail a cab.
Maybe this time Sherlock would understand how much things like these bother me.