Okay, I'll try to keep it short because yeah, three in the morning and finals in six hours now, but... wow. Just wow. This is my favourite segment so far, and for the concentrated brilliance that is your fic, that's saying something.

The armour bit - painfully true. Same goes for discussing the weather. God, Holmes willing to discuss the weather, of all things.

And emotional angst, of the delicious kind - there's nothing quite like missed opportunities to rub salt in the would, and the absolute certainty that they were utterly wasted and won't ever, ever come again also I've been pathetically in love with enough of my straight friends for the 'not quite nothing, not quite enough' bit to sting, and God, I want to hug them and tell them everything will be okay, except it won't help, will it, just like the little things Holmes does...

Also: "the texture of the silence". Love. Seriously, I'm going to paint this on my wall when I have the time.