Wrapped Around His Finger

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Chapter Five

Wrapped Around His Finger

It was painful for me for most days. A couple days after Moriarty was set free, he vanished from the news and my life. It hurt, but I dealt with it.

The fear of his previous attraction to me waned, but my personal lust for him grew once I could no longer have him. It felt like the torture of it all was eating at my heart, but I dealt with it.

After a few months went by, I was somewhat better, but I frequently had him on my mind. I'd sometimes wonder what he was doing right then and there or what he was thinking of. Was he thinking of me? I kicked the thoughts out of my mind and got up from bed.

I picked up my phone and saw there was a message from Sherlock.

John and I went out to solve a minor case. We'll be back in a few hours, feel free to make yourself some tea, third cabinet on the left of the kitchen, next to the brain I'm experimenting on. -SH

I smiled and got up to take a quick shower. After washing my hair with strawberry-scented shampoo and lemon-scented conditioner so that it smelled like strawberry lemonade, I put on little bit of makeup and put my phone back on my nightstand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an envelope with the perfectly cursive written name, 'Carter.'

Even though lots of time had gone by, I recognized the familiar handwriting. I already knew who wrote it and I couldn't resist opening it right away. Inside the envelope was a sort of party invitation. In the same handwriting as the front, there was an address across town listed along with a time and a request to "doll up that lovely figure of yours."

At the bottom were the initials J.M. and a little heart next to them that made my own heart flutter. While I wanted to stay realistic and acknowledge this was more than likely a ploy to kidnap me and get Sherlock's attention again, part of me couldn't help but think what if it wasn't. What if Jim Moriarty genuinely wanted to go on...a date. Maybe this wasn't about Sherlock...maybe it WAS about Jim and I. After looking through my own closet and confirming that I would need a nicer outfit for this rendezvous, I grabbed my purse and headed out to the nearby shops. I had formal dresses for fancy events with Scotland Yard and such, but I wanted tonight's outfit to be less classy if you know what I mean.

After about two hours of searching shops for the right gown to no avail, my eyes landed on a red, satin dress in a shop window while cruising along the sidewalk. The dress was fitted to the curves of the mannequin and went down to the mid-thigh. It was an off-the-shoulder style but had lacy red long sleeves to accompany the rest. Finally, a gorgeous red ribbon wrapped around the waist and met in back to form a luscious bow. This was, without a doubt, the dress that would make Jim Moriarty fall for me if he hadn't already. My desire to look attractive to him far outweighed any concerns I had about this date.

After paying quite the expensive sum for the dress, I got back to the apartment half an hour later and found Sherlock and John coming up the stairs. "Good evening, dear. Sorry we weren't at the flat much today, not as minor a case as we previously thought. Want to join us to dinner over at Speedy's next door?" John asked, not looking at the bag I had in my hand.

I shook my head and lied, "Oh no, sorry, I would but I just ate and I have to go head out to see an old friend of mine."

I smiled, but before I could go up to my apartment, Sherlock asked me why I had a dress.

Dammit, why does he always know without even a single look.

"I was invited to a party at my old friend's house," I technically wasn't really lying, I was going to a party but just not a friend, more of a psychotic love interest. "We're all dressing up nice for it."

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