Frozen Kisses (Jim Moriarty x Sherlock Holmes)

Chapter Twelve- "There Is No Us!"

~Moriarty~

I'm coming over.
-SH

I bit my lip nervously at the recently sent text from Sherlock. John must have told him. Of course John told him. Why the hell wouldn't he? The man hates me.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. That was quick. I opened it and Sherlock was standing there. He walked past me and inside the house.

"So, are you going to tell me why you and John are acting so weird or not?" Sherlock asked, sitting down on an empty chair.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to look and sound innocent.

"What happened when I was gone?" Sherlock questioned.

"Nothing", I lied, "He just agreed to not tell anyone".

"Yes, well you must have said or done something to him to make him agree to that", Sherlock explained.

"No", I quickly denied everything.

"I can tell when you're lying, Moriarty", Sherlock stared at me, "Plus, I'm a detective. I know why John's face is bruised. It took me a while to convince myself because I thought I could trust you but that's obviously not what the matter is".

"Sherlock, I'm sorry", I apologised.

"What did you do to him exactly?" Sherlock asked.

"Honestly?" I frowned.

"The honest truth", Sherlock confirmed.

I took a deep breath.

"I punched him, I slapped him, I strangled him and I threatened him", I sighed deeply.

"Wow", Sherlock shook his head at me, "I'm so stupid for thinking that you'd changed".

"No, I have changed!" I said but stopped myself, "Okay, well, I haven't changed. I never change. But I really, really like you. Please forgive me".

"You strangled my best friend!" Sherlock snapped with anger.

"I know", I confessed, "But I did it for us".

"What?!" Sherlock said, looking outraged, "Us? There is no us! There never has been an us! And there never will be an us!"

Before I could say anything else, Sherlock stormed out of the house, slamming the door on his way out.

I rested my head in my hands and sighed deeply. But no, I wasn't sad. I was angry. I immediately stood up and slammed my fist into the wall, leaving a large dent in it.

Then, I left the house, having absolutely no idea where I was going. But the. The thought of a bar entered my head. Yes, alcohol also helps. I needed to get drunk so badly.

When I arrived at the bar, I ordered shots after shots of alcohol and downed them all quickly. A blonde man with blue eyes came and sat down next to me. He smiled at me, showing all of his white teeth.

"Danny", he offered his hand to shake.

"Moriarty", I took his hand and shook it.

"Moriarty?" Danny asked, "Is that your last name or something?"

"Yes", I replied, "But everyone calls me by my last name".

"I'm not complaining", Danny smirked, "It's quite sexy actually".

"Sorry, what do you want?" I asked a bit moodily.

"I don't want anything", Danny shrugged.

"Well, why are you here?" I glared at him, "Why are you wasting my time, sitting next to me?"

"Ooh, I like a man with an attitude", Danny squinted, looking me up and down, "I want to show you something".

Danny got up and offered me his hand to take. I got up as well but refused his hand. He lead me into the alley way behind the bar and, without warning, he aggressively kissed me, sticking his tongue down my throat. After a few seconds of being confused, I pushed him away.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I snapped with anger.

"What does it look like?" Danny laughed, "Who's stopping you? Your boyfriend?"

I didn't say anything.

"Oh, your boyfriend", Danny nodded, realising, "Well, it's time to forget about him now".

Once again, Danny kissed me deeply on the lips but I pushed him away again.

"You know what?" I shot him a cold and deadly glare, "I'm honestly not the type of person you should be messing with".

"Oh, yeah?" Danny asked, obviously turned on, "What are you gonna do about it, sexy?"

"Do you want to find out?" I asked but in a different way that he meant it.

"More than anything", Danny stared at me with lust.

Without even thinking anything about it, I brought out a pistol from my pocket and shot him straight in the head. You see, any ordinary person would regret doing that but I was not ordinary. Shooting someone was just like brushing my teeth. I did it all the time.

Blood oozed out of his head as he fell to the ground.

I'm surprised that nobody came running over because of the gun shot but, after all, this was London and it was late at night.

"Such a shame", I pouted down at Danny sarcastically even though he was already dead, "You could've been such a fun man to torture".