"Of course not," he says softly, more subdued himself, as he finds he's accepting that what he had been building up in his mind all week actually is very far from the truth. Sometimes he likes being wrong -- only sometimes, however. "I simply thought you could love her easily." Easier than he could love Holmes, for instance.

The distance between them right now seems far more than just physical, but he thinks that that could be remedied. Besides, he very much needs to fill the void in him that's been so full of fear and resignation. He gets up and crosses the short distance between them, gracefully getting to his knees despite his height. He rests his head against Watson's thigh, laying a hand against his calf, and he breathes in his smell.

"I'm very glad you don't."