which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime,
and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.
Sherlock is expecting the punch. As the pain blossoms on his cheek (very consistent, well done John), he feels a certain satisfaction borne out of the idea that he’s somehow apologising without having to use the words, because Sherlock knows himself well enough to acknowledge that he’d take the punch over the words every single time.