"It is," Watson said. He was watching Holmes carefully, not sure of his own feelings at this point, not sure if he was angry or grieved or something else entirely. He was having a hard time taking his eyes off of Holmes, and he wasn't sure he wanted to examine that fact to see what it meant. They couldn't possibly just pick up from where they left off three years ago, could they? They couldn't pick up the shattered remains of always?

And how to even begin explaining his taking that room as his own, when he couldn't even explain it to himself?

"It was... easier." He meant the stair climbing, he meant greiving, he meant everything and none of it. "It was quiet around here, without you."