let me know what you think in the comments
contructive criticism is always accepted.
The following day dragged, reminding me of a snail pulling its body across the earth with a terrible slowness. I stared at the clock, trying not to appear suspicious as I found myself checking it every thirty seconds.
"You're glancing at the clock and checking the time on your phone an awful lot, Alex." My father spoke up. Fuck, he picked up on it. "You're off out, most likely with a boy due to the excessive makeup and nice clothes. I sense romantic interest, otherwise you wouldn't be chewing your nails in such a nervous manner, am I wrong?"
I remained silent, speechless, as I pondered my response. I could tell him it wasn't a date- tell the truth. However then he would ask more questions and lying was not my strongest area of expertise. I could tell him it was a date, but that would cause me to think and consider things I didn't want running through my head. Just then, my phone released a beeping sound, displaying a text from an unknown number.
'Say yes. M.'
I smiled to myself, feeling as if we were a group of young children. "Yes he's someone im going on a date with." I replied, seeing my father eye me up and down.
"What's he like?" He asked, suspicion clear in his voice.
Another text came through, faster this time. 'Dark hair, good dresser, British, intelligent, sexy, better than anyone else. M.'
I grinned, typing a reply. 'You think you're sexy?'
I glanced up to see my father still eyeing me suspiciously. "He's dark haired, tall, dresses well, quite smart but very arrogant and cocky."
'You don't think I am?' Came the reply from my phone.
I felt like I was chatting to a childhood crush as I grinned stupidly form ear to ear. 'I think you have your moments.'
"Alex?" Sherlock called, distracting me from my conversation. "I'd like to talk to him."
I had a glass shattering moment as I wondered what to do, freaking out at how badly this could turn out for me.
A buzz sounded from my phone once more, 'unknown number' was phoning me.
"Hi?" I remained cautious.
"Copy what I say." The irish voice sounded, before once more continuing. "'Hey, my dad wants to talk to you if its okay? I'll pass you over.'"
Trying to remain serious and not snicker at his impersonation of my voice, I did as he said before handing the phone to Sherlock, pressing 'speaker' as I did so.
"Hullo?" I couldn't help but giggle slightly at Moriarty's british accent. It was surprisingly decent.
"What are your intentions with my daughter?" Sherlock jumped straight to the point.
Moriarty feigned confusion and a feeling of uncomfort. "Oh, uh, I don't know. She's really pretty I just want to hang out more with her."
My dad eyed me up once more, throwing me a worried look before handing my phone back to me.
"Im back." I said, pressing the device to my ear once more.
"The car is waiting outside."
"I'll be out in a minute."
"Alex?"
"Yeah?"
"I'll have to prove your text wrong. You'll regret sending that."
And with that, he ended the call. Reading my last message to him, I blushed as I realise what he had told me he was to prove wrong. He had his moments of being sexy.
The house Moriarty's driver, Seb, drove us to was magnificent. My mouth hung open as if mechanical as Seb offered me a hand to exit the car, staring at the marble mansion. It appeared impossibly large, yet still light and open. I felt more than slight surprise at someone as dark and closed off as Moriarty living somewhere so luxurious.
Twirling in the centre of the two staircases, joined at the top, I was all too aware of how juvenile i appeared. I had no cares, nonetheless, as I stretched my arms outwards in the likeness of a bird, growing evermore dizzy from my spinning.
"Im guessing you like it, then." Moriarty stated, staring at me as I stopped to catch my breath.
"It's... It's.. Amazing!" Was all I could say.
"Well, come along. This is not why I brought you here." He said, striding off towards one of the enormous doorways, Seb and me chasing him through it.
After a long while of silence and suspicious glances thrown my way from Seb, the silent figure spoke up. "She looks ditzy. Are you sure this is the girl from the video."
I saw Moriarty roll his eyes. "Are you saying I'm wrong?"
"Guys, I can hear you. I'm right here, you realise." I spoke up, sounding like a toddler unworthy of response.
"No, I'm not saying you're wrong, boss." Seb flinched, his hand flying instinctively to his face.
"Good, good. Wouldn't want a repeat of last time."
Silence followed as we walked down a narrow staircase, arriving in a dark room filled with weapons from floor to ceiling. Gasping in amazement I scanned the guns, knives, knuckledusters and various weapons lining the walls. A boxing ring sat in the centre of the room, a single light dangling above it.
"You don't look very scared," Moriarty began taking slow, meaningful steps towards me. "For someone brought to the basement of a serial killer, filled with weaponry."
"I'm not scared." I replied quickly, still amazed at the room. "I know you don't like to get your hands dirty." Turning now, I saw an impressed yet psychotic smile pasted on the murderer's face.
"You'll regret that, telling me you're not scared. Oh, you will regret those words."
"Let's see what you've got, then." Seb said, grabbing my arm and yanking me to the ring with the force of a bear.
I immediately regretted saying I wasn't scared. As I stood in the ring, facing the muscle of Sebastian Moran with his fists prepared in fighting stance, I realised I was scared. Very scared, in fact. I felt like a deer caught in headlights as I stumbled about with unsteady feet, attempting to avoid the precise blows Seb threw my way.
"She's not the one." Seb yelled at Moriarty, who stood to the side and watched with beady eyes.
I was desperate to prove myself, but just couldn't do anything. I felt useless, pathetic, embarrassed, until... Ouch! A bear fist made contact with my face, throwing spots of blood into the palm of my hand as I covered my throbbing nose. The pain once more changed something in me, a sense of ease. As I stood back in the centre of the ring, readying my arms and making eye contact with Seb, I realised he had also noticed the change.
He stepped forward to throw a punch, but I caught it in my steady hands and twisted it behind him, causing him to hiss in pain as I held it there. He threw his body forward with stealth, curling forward as I tumbled over him and landed on the floor with a heavy 'oof'. He was on me in a second, knee pressed to my stomach with strong arms batting at my face, leaving it aching all over. I wasted no time in feeling sorry for myself, knowing all too well that Moriarty was assessing me.
Twisting round as far as I could, I swung my arm outwards and heard a small wail as my fist made contact with Seb's throat. The two of us leapt to our feet with as much speed as we could muster, and he stepped forward to throw a punch. Ducking under it with speed, I swung my leg around and made contact with the male's face. However, as I rebalanced from my kick, Seb threw another punch. Winding me as I doubled forward, I exposed a full head of hair which he grabbed a handful of and yanked upwards. Hard. After forcing me to stand upright, I saw an opportunity and grabbed his head, smashing it downwards into my knee. I would have succeeded if Seb hadn't still had a handful of hair which he pulled as he went down, dragging me with him as I collapsed like a rag doll.
The male straddled me, pinning my arms in place under his knees as I squirmed beneath his weight. Closing my eyes and flinching, I readied myself for the blows which never came. "Wha-?" I protested as I felt myself lifting, and thrown over a strong shoulder. Fading to blackness and losing conciousness, I looked down to see the black Westwood suit of Jim Moriarty beneath me.
Something wet and slimy touched my face. Jumping upright, snapping back consciousness, I expected to find my father stood above me- with a plate of Leeches in hand. As I sometimes did.
"Relax. You need to rest." A voice sounded as I rubbed my bruised eyes. Throwing my aching head left, I saw Moriarty sat aside me on the luxurious double bed, magazine in hand and a damp cloth in the other. "Oh," I yawned. "That's what touched my face." The two of us remained silent for a minute as I glanced downwards to see I was in different attire. "Why am I wearing this?"
"Well you had to sleep in something, and your other clothes were covered in blood."
"Oh god, the fight.. That explains why I'm in so much pain." I winced as I felt the bruise forming on my cheek. Feeling Moriarty's eyes search me, I looked over at him. "You were impressive." He said, a comfortable feeling set inside me knowing he felt satisfied with my performance.
"I lost." I huffed.
"Everyone loses against Sebastian. You were good."
"You looked after me?" I enquired, seeing him grin in response.
"Someone had to, I have nice sides."
"What time is it?" I asked after a moment of silence and intense eye contact.
"It's eleven."
"Oh my god, I was out all night? I must have worried John sick!" I announced, bouncing up.
"Already covered. I had Sebastian phone your home, they think you slept at Klaudia's house."
"Thank you.." I said, feeling awkward at having to thank the evil psychopath, watching as he nodded.
The door to the well-lit room flung open as a beat-up looking Sebastian walked in with two mugs of tea. "Morning." He said, sounding as tired as I felt. "You're up."
"Yeah, I am." I responded, preparing for a rude comment.
"You fought well, it surprised me."
I sat, astonished, as he ruffled my hair and left the room, leaving me once more alone with the psychopath.
Chuckling, Moriarty lifted his tea to his lips, pausing before taking a sip. "That was a taste."
"Of what?" I asked, facing him.
"What working with me is like. That's not even close to the worst you'll face, only next time you'll have weapons." I nodded, reaching forward to lean over the intimidating male for my tea. "So," he continued. "If you're unable to handle it, I suggest you leave now."
After a long pause I looked up to make eye contact with the male once more. "It'll be like this?"
"More dangerous, more mind games, closer proximity to me, but yes. It'll be a lot like this."
"I'm in."
"You don't want to think about it?"
"There's nothing to think about. I feel alive." I said, grinning.
"Good." He stood, looking down with menacing eyes as he towered over me. "You chose well." Lifting a hand to my face he brushed a thumb over my lips, causing me to draw in a sharp breath and feel my cheeks redden. He lowered his face to my level, staring me in the eyes with his piercing stare, almost causing me to shy away. We stayed this way for a minute, the silence broken only by my heavy breathing.
I shut my eyes, unable to hold myself under his stare as I felt his breath, hot against my skin. His nose brushed against mine, sending tremors down my back as I realised I had never been closer him.
His lips pressed themselves against me- pulling away to allow me to wince at the pain from my split lip before kissing me once more. I whimpered like a young deer as his hand moved to the back of my head, holding me to him. We stayed this way for a short time, the kiss deepening as we moved faster- more desperate. Grabbing the neck of his suit, I pulled him against me- sinking further into the kiss. I had little time to get used to it as he yanked himself away- pushing me from him with force. I didn't dare speak as he stared at me with such ferocity burning in his eyes. "Don't." He spat through gritted teeth.
"I- I didn't mean- I'm sorry." I stuttered.
"You're dangerous." And with that, he strode from the room- slamming the door behind him. Remaining where I was, my heart thudded in my chest, so loud I wondered if Moriarty had heard it. I lifted my fingers to my lips, still tasting where he left.
After a short yet speedy search around the room, I located my clothes from the night before now clean and dry. I pulled them on, attempting to remain silent before making my way out the window.
Within an hour I was back at 221b, explaining to my father as to why I was littered with cuts and bruises. "I'm telling you, it was just a cat fight." I explained, gaining instant trust from John, yet Sherlock was not so easy to please. Having no other leads to follow, however, he had no choice but to believe the one I offered. Stumbling drowsily to my room, I collapsed on my not-so-luxurious bed and fell to a deep sleep- finally resting my aching muscles.