Being in this room as long as he has is starting to feel stifling. The acid in the air is enough to make his eyes water and he puts a hand up to his nose, preferring to smell the residual hand soap off the back of his fingers instead of the sick on the floor. It wouldn't be too soon for John to clean things up. If he's in here for too much longer, he might retch himself.
In fact, Sherlock's just opening his mouth to comment that it's nice to know John's ears are working when a small ineffectual gag reaches him. Thank God he doesn't eat much on cases.
"God, John, I can taste it," he complains and turns to walk out the door and into the landing where the air might not be fresh, but it would be much more diluted than the air in the bedroom. He leans against the wall just outside the door and takes a moment to breathe and settle his stomach before going through John's question, though quite delayed in doing so.
He knew he'd been forgetting something. "No, I haven't made any arrangements. You don't mind," he says as a statement when it's really the unspoken request: John, will you make the sleeping arrangements?
Our angst accidentaly became Hurt/Comfort xD
In fact, Sherlock's just opening his mouth to comment that it's nice to know John's ears are working when a small ineffectual gag reaches him. Thank God he doesn't eat much on cases.
"God, John, I can taste it," he complains and turns to walk out the door and into the landing where the air might not be fresh, but it would be much more diluted than the air in the bedroom. He leans against the wall just outside the door and takes a moment to breathe and settle his stomach before going through John's question, though quite delayed in doing so.
He knew he'd been forgetting something. "No, I haven't made any arrangements. You don't mind," he says as a statement when it's really the unspoken request: John, will you make the sleeping arrangements?