Breathe Again

Mycroft was alone in the bedroom of his new house, the bedroom that was not solely his anymore. The girl had gone elsewhere to change. He was grateful for that.

He unhooked his belt and unbuttoned his trousers and his waistcoat, breathing a great sigh of relief as he did so. He had barely touched his own wedding supper for fear he would suffocate himself. The suit had fit perfectly two months ago, but much had happened in those two months.

The fact that he had not had the time to be fitted for a new suit for his wedding spoke lengths about the whole matter.

Mycroft pulled on the bottoms of his blue silk sleepwear, running a fat finger over the red imprints his merciless belt had left on his bulging stomach. Then he put on and buttoned up his top before the girl returned.