STARBRIGHT PT. 1
“Pack your bags,” Sherlock said casually one night at Angelo’s.
John paused, fork halfway to his mouth. The spaghetti unwound itself from the prongs and fell to the plate with a thick plop! “Pardon?”
“You heard me.”
Rosie was gnawing at her grilled cheese, eyes wide as they flickered between the both. While she had just graduated from needing a booster, she was still short enough that her shoulders only just breached table level. John set the fork down and took a sip of water, mind racing over what could possibly possess Sherlock to want John and Rosie to move out.
“I did, yes, but I think I need a bit more to go off of,” he said carefully.