John awoke to a terrible screeching sound, emanating from somewhere beneath him. The Violin. For a few days this had happened to John. Sherlock had made a mistake with a case, getting one of the deductions wrong, which efficiently frustrated Sherlock to no end, taking his anger out on the strings of his violin, or John. John was glad to be out of sight of Sherlock, meaning he could get some peace from the raging insults Sherlock had flung at him, but that also meant that he would have to endure the unmistakable sound of a dying violin. He made his way down the stairs, staying in the kitchen.
"John. Come here a moment"
John froze. He hesitated moving again, not sure whether or not Sherlock was going to question his stupidity again. He slowly made his way into the living room, stopping just short of the door should he need a way to escape.
"I'm here. What's up"
Sherlock made his way to John, stopping before him and gently lowing onto his knees. He grasped John's hands in his own and looked into his eyes.
"An Apology John."