Unexpectedly, John struggles against him even though it's quite clear that there's no real force behind the act and the fact that he's just talking him through what happened. The ropes barely get more than taut, the real alarm of it only when it drags over his skin. No real cause for panic at all, especially considering that Sherlock isn't keen on killing him. He needs him. Also, he'd be the prime suspect. Sherlock doesn't catch on that what he's doing is doing anything more for John than illustrating a point he's trying to make, until of course he manages to duck away from him.
That's when Sherlock can see that he's more than just angry. There are a few long moments where it doesn't quite click, where he keeps butting up against angry and finding it not quite right. Sherlock is so much better with people once they're already dead and understanding things like this has never been his forte. Luckily, John clears some of that right up with the yelling - clearly angry. But definitely not just angry.
"I was explaining," he says, voice cool and even. "I can't very well explain on myself, can I?"
Because that makes sense. "I was just showing you the difference..."
It clicks, or almost clicks, kind of belatedly. The color in John's face isn't anger, it's the same color that rises when he's set his sights on some woman and finds himself affected. Sherlock stops talking and blinks at him, for once the one who's momentarily struck utterly dumb. Then his eyes narrow - always a dangerous thing. He thinks he knows what just happened, but... that can't be it. Can it?
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That's when Sherlock can see that he's more than just angry. There are a few long moments where it doesn't quite click, where he keeps butting up against angry and finding it not quite right. Sherlock is so much better with people once they're already dead and understanding things like this has never been his forte. Luckily, John clears some of that right up with the yelling - clearly angry. But definitely not just angry.
"I was explaining," he says, voice cool and even. "I can't very well explain on myself, can I?"
Because that makes sense. "I was just showing you the difference..."
It clicks, or almost clicks, kind of belatedly. The color in John's face isn't anger, it's the same color that rises when he's set his sights on some woman and finds himself affected. Sherlock stops talking and blinks at him, for once the one who's momentarily struck utterly dumb. Then his eyes narrow - always a dangerous thing. He thinks he knows what just happened, but... that can't be it. Can it?