Hand furiously scribbling across paper and his face contorted in concentration, the short, dark haired man watched as the figure of a very childlike drawn image of a tiger formed on the page. The vibrant colours had been carefully picked and used, leaving Jim Moriarty finally satisfied with his drawing.
Crayons and crumpled up pages lay scattered across the floor in a large mess—the other attempts Jim had done to try and make his drawing as perfect as he could possibly make it. Yes. He was finally happy with it. He clutched it to his chest happily for a moment and with a gasp of realisation, pulled it back and began to quickly smooth out the creases on the coffee table beside him. Jim wouldn't ruin this one too. Not after the frustration he had suffered from trying his hardest to get it right.
He waited on Sebastian coming home, but it wasn't long before he tiredly crawled to the couch and soon dozed off from exhaustion. If Jim thought or concentrated on something too hard he'd become light headed and get a headache. Of course, he couldn't understand why it happened so easily and therefore, it was left unanswered to him. He'd constantly pester Sebastian with questions but the man would either leave Jim and go to his room saying he was tired or give a confusing, inaccurate response to avoid discussing it properly and usually changed the subject.
Sebastian would never leave Jim alone at the flat for too long though. Even if his mind told him the other man was perfectly safe with everything locked and Jim left doing something to occupy his mind while he was away. It still didn't stop him from worrying every time he left the flat to run errands or go out for a bit. What if Jim found a sharp object and injured himself? What if someone broke into the flat and took advantage of Jim's helpless, childish state? He cared about the man; and it worried him constantly.
It wasn't long before Sebastian did head back to the flat, anxiously fumbling with his key to unlock the door as the same, horrid images he got every time of something reckless Jim might have done to hurt himself flooding his mind and churning his stomach. He rushed down the hall and into the living room, sighing with relief when he found Jim soundlessly sleeping and curled up in a ball on the couch.
Sebastian crossed the room and proceeded to lift Jim into his arms, being careful not to wake or disturb him as he brought him into his bedroom. The sniper gently placed Jim down on the bed and silently pulled the duvet around the other man. He then tucked him in and softly pet his hair as he slept.
Sebastian watched Jim fondly for a moment, finding the mewling noises he made in his sleep undeniably adorable. Deciding to leave the scattered mess of crayons and paper for now till the morning, he kissed Jim's forehead lightly and left him where he was before going to his own room to get some sleep.
Sebastian got tired running after Jim most of the time and doing nearly everything for him because he was either incapable of doing it himself or only learning properly so Sebastian always appreciated eventually getting some well earned rest.
As he went to lie his head on the pillow, something crumpled underneath him. He raised his head again confusingly, curious to know what had caused the noise. His eyes moved to the page that had been placed on his pillow and he picked it up, a lump forming in his throat when he saw what it was. A tiger. Jim had drawn him a tiger and set the drawing on Sebastian's bed for a surprise when he came home. There also seemed to be something written on it and the sniper squinted his eyes in the darkness to see the tiny writing. 'To Sebby' it read at the top, just above the tiger's head and at the very bottom in the right hand corner, 'Love Jim'. Love Jim.
He observed the effort that had been put into one simple picture, specially drawn for him and smiled sadly, a silent tear rolling down his cheek and falling onto the page.