A cigarette perched on lazy lips, tobacco-damaged lungs filling with poisonous gas once more, just one more drag of burning air before the next, that's all he needed.
A quiet rooftop, undisturbed by the pollution that is humanity, apart from one, who didn't dare taint the serenity of this desolate night.
It wasn't often Sebastian Moran got a moment of quiet to appreciate being alive. It wasn't often Sebastian Moran appreciated being alive, in all honesty, but tonight was an exception. Tonight, the night was calm for the tiger to hunt.
"I hate it when you smoke."
Here, we have the reason for Sebastian's lack of tranquility.
"I hate it when you tell me what to do," a disgruntled soldier grunts in return, taking another drag for good measure.
"I hate it when you're insubordinate."
"I hate it when you disturb me when I'm trying to work."
Jim Moriarty smirks and takes his place at his Tiger's side. He snatches the cigarette from Sebastian's lips, immediately shushing the protests that replaced smoke in his mouth. As easily as he had taken it away, he drops it again, opening his hand and allowing it to drop ceaselessly into the abyss that lay beyond the building's roof. Sebastian watches singed ash disappear, a glow engulfed by blackness.
"I wasn't done with that."
"Tough luck, Tiger."
He leans down and reaches into the inside pocket of Sebastian's coat, and all he can do is lean back in defeat, letting out a sigh as his boss locates what he is searching for: his cigarette packet. Jim tuts in disappointment, pocketing them for later destruction.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Seb - I can't stand it when you come home and kiss me with your mouth tasting like tobacco." He runs his fingers through Sebastian's hair, fussing over the disheveled sniper who has long learnt not to argue with this ridiculous pestering. "See you at home. Maybe have a mint first."
With that, he walks away, his mission accomplished. Amazing the lengths he will go to in order to catch Sebastian doing something he's not supposed to.
With Jim gone, Sebastian allows himself to roll his eyes, and replace his cigarette with a sniper in his hands, hoisting the gun to his shoulder.
"I hate it when he takes my things," he mutters bitterly under his breath.
He aims through a window in the opposite building, takes his shot, and lowers the rifle again.
"I can't believe I love that asshole."
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MorMor one shots
FanfictionA little series of one shots that I'll write when I have inspo for :) Somehow, like everything else I write, all the chapter titles have turned into song titles
