Side of the Angels ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book II} *UNDER EDITING*

Chapter 66- Flirting and Corpses

Millie's POV

-----------------

I'm angry.

Really, really angry.

At first I was hurt. More than anything else, I was hurt. So hurt that it drew scalding tears from my eyes and wracked my body with sobs and I couldn't do anything about it; I just forced myself to walk back to my old apartment, and I cried. 

I am not an emotional person.

But then the hurt ebbed away and something else replaced it; a white, hot, anger that started off as a pinpoint of pressure in my chest, but soon spread to every orifice and crevice in my body, fogging the senses and clouding reason.

"And what about Millie?"

"Irrelevant."

Irrelevant.

He said I was irrelevant.

I've done so much for that man; I've opened up to him, I've told him what goes on inside my head, I've saved his life. 

And I'm irrelevant.

There's something else, too. I can't say that I didn't harbour a strange cocktail of emotions towards him- I did- and it got to the point where I truly believed that they were starting to be returned. He let me believe that. He kissed me.

Then there's Emily; with her intelligence and her wit and her savagery- a dangerous combination that occasionally tipped over her over the edge of stability.

Of course it would be Emily.

I'm nothing; I'm just a flatmate, a comparison of intellect. 

I liked Emily. I really did. And the worst part of it all is that she knew about my emotional standing when it came to Sherlock. She knew, and yet she still kissed him, with such firm conviction that the passion and lust and intention between them sent me reeling backwards.

Was she playing Moriarty, too?

I don't understand. Moriarty is always the one in control; not the other way round. 

But when Moriarty turned away, and pushed past us all- when his eyes locked with mine, I saw more than just anger, more than disbelief: he looked insane. Like the thin thread that held him together enough to function had snapped, in his fury, and he'd lost it. Lost it to the point where it became scary to perceive.

However, I think his motives differ from mine. I'm angry because I feel betrayed. He's angry because Sherlock has beaten him. In terms of intellect, Sherlock and Moriarty have always been perfectly matched. But in terms of physicality, and ability to use that physicality, Moriarty always had the advantage.

But he was wrong.

We all were.

Emily is the key feature here. 

She's the only person who has the potential to devastate both sides. 

I can't speak to Sherlock, not now, not yet. I still feel too raw inside to consolidate a valid and concise argument against him.

But I can speak to Emily.

And I swear to god she's going to pay for all the damage she's done.

-----------------------------

Emily's POV

----------------------------