She was sitting there, waiting for him, wearing the perfect black dress, he tried to resist at first.
This wasn't right. His wife would get mad and she would have all the right to be.
This wasn't healthy and he knew it.
He looked around. Everybody was greeting everybody. Nobody was giving him any attention.
She was calling for him. He contemplated to go joining them, to cut off all the temptations.
But his legs had their own mind, they pushed him to her.
He stood in front of the table she sat on. His resistance attempts failed him.
He reached for her, touching her with his fingers.
I'm going to regret this, he thought licking his bottom lips.
Oh the hell with that, he held her between his fingers, tasting her.
He closed his eyes in full satisfaction. This wasn't a piece of chocolate cake. This was a piece of heaven.
Every bite was a moment in paradise, till he reached the last one.
THE HELL WITH THAT! He reached for the second piece, opening his mouth for another heavenly bite, closing his eyes for the maximum sensation.
. .tick.
Sound of a known heel was heard.
His hand stopped in half the distance and opened his horrified eyes.
She found me.
Mycroft sighed heavily resigning. He put the piece of happiness down.
He looked to his –angry-crossing-her-arms- wife innocently, raising his hands up in defense and left the kitchen.