Flat
"You know. I really had just moved in, that day."
"Hm?"
"When you came to see the flat."
"..."
"It was only my flat for a day. It's always been ours."
"...I -..."
"You left it -"
"You left it. You left me."
"John -"
"I know why, Sherlock. I do, now. But. It was our flat. It should have always been our flat. I couldn't - It could never be mine."
"...It could still. Be ours."
"Sher..."
"Move back in, John."
"I -..."
"You're afraid...Ah. Still worried I could just go again."
"If it happened once, who's to say it won't again?"
"I had to -"
"Yes, and you may have to again. Sherlock, the way you went about it was hurtful, but it was, overall...good. The intention was good. It's - You - Hhfhh...D'you remember how my therapist said that I have trust issues?"
"You fired her."
"Well. Yes, but she wasn't wrong."
"Hmh."
"Even you said so."
"Yes ok."
"I...I don't want this to be true, Sherlock, I swear to you, but. I don't think I'll ever truly be able to trust that anything you're involved in is genuine, again. I can and always will trust that you believe it's for the best, whatever it is. But I'll always wonder if there isn't some sort of angle to it. To everything. I l- Christ."
"...John?"
"I love you, Sherlock. But I will forever be reading between the lines with you."
"I understand, John. I am sorry."
"I know you are. And I am too."
"Then you won't be moving back in."
"Do you still want me to?"
"...Please, John. I...I miss you."
"Oh, Sher...Alright. Yes. If we can both deal with...all of that. Then yes."