Nicotine (Sheriarty)

5

Moriarty

Jim sat in his apartment staring at the silver screen in front of him. He stared at the black haired figure on the screen. Sherlock. He was monitoring him through a camera which was expertly hidden inside Sherlock's flat. He watched as he rocked back and forth. He almost felt sorry for him.

Although Jim was the one who inflicted all this apon Sherlock Holmes, he couldn't get him out of his head either. Everything he did reminded him of the kiss. The heavenly kiss.

Moriarty span around in his black, leather chair and tried to forget about him. The clever detective in the funny hat. He stared at the monitor one last time before picking up his phone.

It had been a few weeks since their meeting but Jim craved more. He held his phone in his hand and debated whether or not he should text him. He was fighting with himself. What had he done?

Eventually, he decided to text him:

St Bart's rooftop.
Now. - JM

He read the message over and over again until he finally pressed send. Did it sound too harsh? Would he come? Did he even want to see him again?

- - - - - - -

As he arrived at St Bart's, he made his way up to the roof. The air hit his face violently as he stood alone looking out over the world below him. After a few minutes, he decided to sit down. Besides, he didn't want to fall.