Just as you enter into the venue, everything is grand, beautiful with one thing wrong with the whole picture: you. You feel out of place - uneasy within the large walls of almost royalty. The sea of people that surround you begin to get too overpowering very quickly and the various looks you recieve from them begin to get unnerving to you. With this, you flee up the stairs to the balcony on the upper floor, that overlooks the party below and also leads to a door with a balcony that overlooks the view of the gardens around the home. You choose to look at the gardens instead of the strange party goers below you. Opening the doors, you take in a deep breath of the fresh air from outside and smile as you see the beautiful gardens beneath you. You take a small step forward onto the small balcony and lean against the railing, taking in everything there is to see. The flower arrangements, the sculptures and better yet, the view of afar: the lakes and rivers. Everything here is perfect yet you feel very uncomfortable and out of place in a way - despite your outfit and manners fitting in nicely. You feel as if people have been talking with you as the subject matter and this concerns you greatly.
"What're you doing all alone up here?" Asks a voice from behind. You turn around to see Moriarty, JM as you remember him from your dream.
"It's... you." You begin to let a confused expression control your features - raising your eyebrow and gawking slightly.
"Yes, it's me. I thought that'd be pretty obvious. With the fairytale ball and everything." He replies in an almost sarcastic tone, stepping slowly toward you on the balcony.
"I thought you were just a dream..." You take in a breath, "I thought you only existed in my dream. But you're real..." You stutter, you'd never met this man before except for in your dream but now all of a sudden he's real and inviting you to parties? You wanted to know what the hell was going on. "How does that even work?"
"I'll tell you that eventually. But for now, I want you to live your fairytale." He begins to get even closer, so much so that he's in your 'bubble' of personal space, as it were. You try to back away but he holds your waist and keeps you close to him.
"I don't understand what's going on..." You begin to look vacant, sad, almost empty. You allow your hazy eyes to wander up and meet his; moving your hands atop his own in a swift, delicate movement that allows you to trace his fingers with your own. A gentle gesture with a gentle, loving yet confused meaning. Moriarty stood before you still, trying strenuously to read through your eyes; into your mind yet he found nothing. He couldn't figure out anything at this point - your eyes look dead to him. Lifeless. The confusion of the situation leaves you incapable of any sort of empathy.
"You don't have to be frightened, if you are..."
"I'm not." He chuckles, loosening his grip on your waist and taking a small step back, ensuring your personal space is returned to you properly. Instead of holding you at waist height in full force, he simply rests one hand against your waist and with his other hand, he holds yours upright in a position ready for a waltz. You hear the music change from the ground floor of the venue and place your spare hand on Moriarty's shoulder. You brave it, you don't want to feel scared - Moriarty interests you, entices you. You want to open up; you want to be read by him. You both begin swaying gingerly in time with one another to the music you hear. All this time, you've not taken your eyes off each other; yours are beginning to show some light, displaying some form of life within you. You're pushing your negativity away and allowing happiness in, living in the moment. Moriarty notices this and a light grin touches the corners of his mouth, he knows you're opening - he can sense that you'll let him in. He's getting what he wants and he knows you're easy to open up to others. Your naive, readability was some of the reason he came to you in the first place. He didn't want a challenge - he wanted an easy victory and someone he could mess with without being caught. He'd found that person.
"Do you mind if I kiss you?" He whispers, loud enough for you to hear him clearly yet quiet enough to make you shiver slightly at the raspy whisper close to your ear. You give a small nod in reply and draw yourself closer to Moriarty, as close as you were before.

You're facing Moriarty, close enough so that the tips of your noses are touching slightly. He slips his right hand into yours which is fidding with your fingernails - 'causing you to stop fiddling as he interlocks his slender fingers between yours. His thumb gently strokes against yours and you gaze into his eyes before looking back down past your nose, fixing your eyes away from his. You're nervous. He holds your left hand in his now, once again interlocking his fingers in between your own. You begin trying to control your breathing, not letting it become heavy or fast paced. You're trying to keep yourself in a calm state of being, or more like trying not to give it away that you're incredibly nervous at this point. You know he can already tell what your current mind set is, though: he's too clever to see through your attempt at a facade. He's smiling slightly at the fact you can't bring yourself to look him directly in the eye and how you're noticeably trying to slow down your own breathing. No matter how cliche it sounds to say it, you've never felt exactly this way in the company of someone before. You've never felt more or less speechless, taken aback by someone like you are at this moment. It had never occurred to you how beautiful someone can be in your head and how much more than that they are in physical prescence. Not even when you were sneaking around with boys did you feel at least something like this, like a connection, no - back then it was just about self justification, trying to feel at least somewhat good about yourself. But now, you're trying not to turn away entirely. Something about this feels so intense and such a connection you don't understand... Or know how to handle. Being so close face to face with someone you find as remarkable as him, torments you in a way and despite this being solid reality, you deny that this could possibly be real. You look into his eyes once again and know that he's not taken his off you. Moriarty knows what he wants, no doubts and no hesitations. He's fixated on playing a game that he can win - this is where you come into his life: as a pawn in his game. Despite this, he feels you have a little something in you that he finds appealing, even if it's in the smallest of ways. He likes that you're playing the game with him, that you're accepting the different things that happen, solely so he has something to do throughout the day. Whilst he has different schemes, plans and ideas reeling through his mind, you are blissfully unaware of such things and it doesn't seem to cross your mind at all. You're content in this situation, with everything that happens to you right now. It's all happening like the fairytales, just as you wanted. Moriarty is more than pleased you like the fairytale style - it makes everything all the better the to play with. You open your mouth to take in some air, making a slight gasping sound. You start ignoring your own mind, telling you this isn't real, thinking that even if this isn't real - you'd make the most of what you currently have here. You slowly lean your forehead against Moriarty's and nuzzle your nose against his slightly, all the while you're unlocking your hands from his and pulling his body closer to yours by his hips. Once you're as close as you could possibly get, you place one arm around the back of his neck and rest the hand of the other arm on the back of his head, changing from leaning against his forhead to deeply looking into his eyes. With this, he holds your cheek in his hand, strokes it with his thumb and smiles at you - before eventually placing his hands on the small of your back, against the soft fabric of your dress. You hold this position for a while, looking into each other's eyes solely.
"No rush..." He whispers with a chuckle. You smile and give a small scoff at the remark as he brings his face closer to yours and you do the same, settling your lips against each other's into a deep, romantic yet slightly closed kiss.

The both of you part from each other and return to the ground floor and join the party, you float down the stairs with Moriarty following behind. You feel his hard stare against your back and carry on nevertheless. The party seems to have been in full swing when you'd arrived and whilst you had been upstairs; but now everything has died down. People are chatting casually, calming down from the full extent of the party. As you pass through a separated crowd, Moriarty close behind, you hear whispers. You can't hear much of what the crowd are saying but all you manage to pick up are words like "consulting criminal," "devil" and "manipulative." You look at the different characters for a brief moment with a quizzing expression, confused as to what they actually meant. They must be joking. They had to be. You turn around to see Moriarty, ready to ask him what the words meant to him but to find him surrounded by several women in low cut dresses, fawning over the man who'd just kissed you moments ago.
"Moriarty..." You utter, giving a small wave to capture attention. But to no avail. He was seized by these women and you couldn't get him away. A small part of you sunk slightly.
"I'll be leaving..." You whisper, hoping the words will remain; that he'll react towards this though you know it was a stupid thought, a little hope was needed. You turn away, facing the door now, and proceed to leave the party in the same rolls royce that got you there. As you open the door and begin to walk out, you hear a voice behind you,
"(y/n) where are you going?" He calls out.
"Home. I'd better go. My mother will worry." Before you can shake yourself, Moriarty is grabbing your wrist, trying to pull you back into the party, wanting you to stay. He can't have you thinking bad of him, not yet. He needs to reel you in and this is not part of his plan. Moriarty grimaces, the thought of his fun being spoiled so early is killing him. He knows you're doubting him by your sudden change in body language. You were so relaxed but now you're rushing to leave just so you can save yourself from getting hurt, just in case.
"Can't you stay?"
"No..."
"Sorry to hear it... It's a shame you can't. I'll come and see you soon, (y/n.)" He gives you a sympathetic smile from one side of his mouth and his eyebrows slant into the same sort of sympathetic structure. Without replying, you simply nod and resume leaving the party and get into the car waiting for you outside. You just want to get home, scared of your heart being broken, scared of your head being messed with. You don't know what to think of the evening but you just wanted to think about your bed, about going to sleep and having a plain dream. Anything but Moriarty. Anything.

The car journey home went quickly due to you overthinking everything that happened on the way out of the party. He kissed you, yet all those women seemed to captivate him a lot more. You sigh, stepping out of the car again and returning into your home, greeting your step mother with a quiet hello before retreating up into your bedroom and stripping off your dress and crawling into bed without a second thought. You check the clock quickly, it's past midnight. You're usually in bed before this time - you feel extremely exhausted. Your bed is twice as comfy, feeling soft and gentle against your skin. You settle down and nuzzle your cheek against your pillow, relaxing into a deep sleep.