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Notes:
Don't be freaked out by hyphens used for dialogues instead of quotation marks, that's just what I've been taught and honestly, It's too much of a headache to write differently I'm sorry. Either way, I hope you enjoy this short! It might become a longer fic tho but no promises
Lamp posts in this part of town were tall, with queer swirls and shapes sculptured on the top. They had a nice vintage feel to them, even if they didn't give much light in the evening. But it was still enough to check how you look in the car's window nearby. I fixed the collar of my shirt, ran my hand through my hair one last time, and sent a half-smile to my reflection. I stood up, sighed, and continued straight ahead towards the pub my friend told me about. I was surprised by how fancy it looked, even from the outside. That meant it was going to be a bigger job than usual. That meant probably more difficult than what I might've been used to, but that also meant a bigger pay so it wasn't that bad after all. The writing on the board, hung up next to the entrance read "The Black Apple", which must've been the name of the pub. I took one last deep breath, summoned a slight smile, and stepped inside. The pub surely was more prestigious than the ones I was used to. I noticed groups of elderly gentlemen in suits, women wearing long, fancy dresses and hills, and a few tourists looking curiously around the bar. I stood next to the door for a while trying to find a place for myself in all of this. My friend, who generally told me about this "job opportunity", also said, that the guy should be sitting at the bar, black hair, a black neat suit-- I looked around once more and noticed a gentleman sitting alone at the bar, stools on both of his sides empty, thick glass with probably bourbon or whiskey placed on his right. His black hair was neatly styled and almost as dark as the suit he was wearing. "Must be the guy" I thought, put my hands in the front pockets of my pants, and took a deep breath as I approached an empty stool on his left. I sat down not turning to him at first and just ordering a bottled Guinness bear. I figured it was my best option, not too strong and not too fancy, but also a retro classic which gave it a little elegant touch. Or probably I was just overthinking it. The barman went to fetch me the bear from the freezer and I folded my hands on the counter.
-Pablo or Mike? - the black-haired man asked as soon as the bartender turned his back to us.
- I'm sorry?- I asked, turning my head to him, unsure what he meant or who Pablo was. A slight smirk appeared on the man's face as he reached for his glass to bring it closer.
- Mike judging by the accent - he replied, eyes locked on his glass.
- It was Mike who told you to come find me here today, right? - he added, taking a sip of his drink.
- How- I mean yeah, yes it was Mike. Mike Waller - I replied, sounding definitely not as confident as I wanted to be. Deciding it wasn’t a good idea to try and understand how exactly the guy knew it was Mike who sent me here, I simply turned to him slightly, resting my right hand on my knee.
- He told me you'd have a job fit for me… The man didn't respond, didn't even look in my direction, he just put his glass back down and swallowed the drink. I wanted to open my mouth and add something but just when I was about to, the barman came back with my Guinness bottle.
-Here you go, sir -the chubby, friendly-looking man said, placing the drink before me. I nodded and uttered a small thank you, grabbing the bottle and taking a sip. The bear was bitter, obviously, but had something in itself, almost a tender taste to it.
- You’re being careful I see - the black-haired man said, now playing with his glass, balancing it on the edge, eyes tracing the ice rattling inside. I held myself from spitting out another confused “I’m sorry” and tried to think this time. A smile appeared on my face, but it was a rather nervous one.
- This, or maybe it's just my favourite drink - I replied, taking another sip.
- Hmmm… No - the man replied - If it had been your favourite drink, you’d first ask if they have it, then order. But you ordered right away, so you had it planned beforehand - he added, put down the glass he was playing with, and sighed. With that sigh finally turned his head and looked up at me. His eyes went up and down, sliding through my silhouette and it almost felt like he had some Clark Kent type of x-ray in his eyes. Which, by the way, I couldn’t help but notice, were really pretty. Deep, dark brown with surprisingly light eyelashes. The man looked up at me, his mouth slightly opened, and just muttered a “huh” accompanied by a smirk. Oh okay, so that’s what we’re doing. I managed to keep a firmly straight face and just lifted my eyebrows in a silent question. To nobody’s surprise, I didn’t get my response and the guy just turned back to his drink. Oh sweet heavens, my patient was surely being put to the test. That’s not how you get a “job” around here! I mean sure, I’ve been to a few fancy pubs, but where is that small talk coming from? Usually, I just argued about the money, took my rifle, bing bang boom, and the money was transferred to one of my accounts registered in Hawaii or something. I turned back to face the bar and started taping on the bottle with my fingers.
-So you said, you were doing this for how long?- the man asked, breaking me out of my train of thought. Instinctively I turned my head to him, but he was still mesmerized by the glass in his hand.
- Uhh, a few years in the military and about two freelance jobs.
- You’ve been to the frontlines? - the glass again balancing on its edge.
- Iraq. Yeah, maybe two and a half years in total. At least a year in the fights - I replied and took a rather bigger sip of the bear.
-Have you ever killed an innocent man Oliver? - the man asked and turned to me. I froze for a second, a bottle still at my mouth. I couldn’t even bother from where or how he knew my name. I swallowed the bear and put down the bottle, clenching my lips together.
- Yeah. Yeah, a few - I uttered, not really wanting to talk more about it, because talking meant remembering and I wasn’t in the mood for that. I wasn’t able to say for sure, since this time I was the stubborn one, locking my eyes on the bar in front, but I could’ve sworn he was smiling. There was a pause, and I could feel his eyes on me through it, but I stayed still, hoping he would mercifully change the subject. Hopefully, just give me the job and cut this nonsense game already.
-So...- he sighed - Mike sent only you so far, he must have a soft spot for you… I twisted my mouth, not sure how to respond. If Mike had a soft spot for anything it was alcohol and yelling at people.
-He surely must, but I’d say I’m just really good at the job - I replied, gaining back my confidence. We were back on safer grounds for now.
- Are you now?- the man whispered more to himself, as he finished his drink. The empty glass clinked when he put it down.
- I’m going to need you to observe some people for me, Oliver. Not necessarily kill them, we will see how that goes. Just be in touch and I’ll pay you once the show is over - he said turning to me with a charming smile, but you knew it wasn’t a genuine one.
-S-sure - well that was quick. The man stood up and nodded to say goodbye and walked to the door. I followed him with my eyes not sure how to react. I didn’t even know his name, nor had his phone number. But then I realized he probably had my number since he knew my name and even if Mike would give it to him. Still, I couldn’t get rid of that weird unsettling feeling. Then he stopped, right at the doorstep, lifted his index finger up, and swiftly turned around. The smile on his face was different now, as he walked back to me and sat on his stool. I just stared at him, trying to grasp the situation.
-No, we’re not going to do that - he said to himself- You seem fairly interesting and I really don’t have anything better to do tonight - he added and turned to me.
- So finish that well-thought beer of yours and let me guess your favourite drink, that will be fun - he said, already searching the pub for the barman. I looked at my half-empty bottle of Guinness, then briefly looked back at the black-haired man and slid the bear slightly away from me. He didn't even look at me but a smile lit up his face again as he raised his hand to call the bartender. I folded my hands on the counter and turned to him, one eyebrow lifted up with a sceptic half-smile.
-Alright, let's see what you've got - I uttered genuinely quite curious about what's going to happen. Was the guy going to press two fingers to his forehead and read my mind like professor Xavier or something? And what's with these comic references today? The black-haired man just asked the barkeeper for some type of drink menu, and when it was handed to him he nodded and turned immediately to me. He again looked at me in such a piercing way it made me slightly uncomfortable, but I told myself not to be a pussy and didn't turn my eyes away. After a while, he turned to the card and quickly scanned the drinks listed there.
-So... we can definitely cross out most of the beers, the strong drinks, gin and most likely whiskey for tonight… - he said and I found myself with my mouth slightly opened. What in the heavens?
-How do you..? - I couldn't help myself but ask. He didn't even lift his eyes up from the card, just shrugged his shoulders and I felt like my question just amused him.
- Oh that's a mystery to unravel for another time… - he said and started tracing the list of wines with his finger. - Now, give me a clue, but don't make it too obvious, would you?
-Eemmmrr…- I uttered, trying to pull my act and my thoughts together. Oh, and my lips too. I had to close my mouth.
-Eemm… okay I- let's say I don't take pride at parties being my favourite drink - I spat out the first thing that came into my head. Which as sad as it may have sounded was true, but not really as sad overall as you think.
-Ohhh… that's good - the man whispered to himself, now looking over at the list of sweet, coloured drinks but quickly getting back to wines. I followed his finger tracing over the red wines and the sweet white ones, stopping for a second at a medium-dry red wine. Then he lifted up his finger, a smirk slid through his face and he called for the bartender.
- Gabe - he addressed the chubby man - One rose wine for my friend and a top-up for me - he said with a slight, polite smile and handed the drink card back to the bartender. The man nodded and reached for a bottle of bourbon to refill my companion's glass. I was caught in a terrible moment of having absolutely no idea what to say and as the barman went to grab a glass for me I lifted my hand and ran it through my hair, looking at the black-haired man with the corner of my eye.
-You should've ordered it instead of Guinness. It would've given you more character up front, but I appreciate the strategic thought - the man said, taking a sip of his bourbon.
-Uh thank you? I'm not sure what to say I'll be honest- I replied letting out a nervous sigh.
- But how do you seem so sure that you've guessed it right? - I added, turning to him.
- I wasn't, but thank you for confirming my best guess - he replied giving me a short smile. I replied with the same, not sure what else to do. Something, something in him completely threw me off guard. Constantly. I wasn't able to get my act together and it was starting to infuriate me. It felt like I was wandering around in a thick fog, this complete and sudden loss of control made me feel endangered.
- Oh easy now - he sighed, interrupting my thoughts. And seemed as if he was about to continue, but then the bartender put my drink in front of me and I immediately grabbed the glass, taking a sip of truly my favourite rose wine, letting the warm shiver of alcohol ground me and sweep my anxious thoughts away for a moment. I took a deep breath.
-I don't mean to be rude sir, but you didn't introduce yourself yet - I said, turning on the stole so I could sit up front to him now. My right hand rested on the counter, fingers grasping the foot of the glass. He chuckled and I wasn't able to read what was hiding behind that. The man sat up straight and with a slight over-exaggeration replied:
- Oh my bad Monsieur! How could I forget?? It's Moriarty, Jim Moriarty - he said bowing his head in a theatrical gesture. I couldn't help a slight chuckle but bowed back, playing along.
- Pleasure to meet you sir - I replied in a posh voice, even though I couldn't hide the laugh behind it. I lifted my glass in the form of a greeting gesture and took another sip of my drink. The sweetness rose wine had to itself.., really just felt like it saved me there.
-So how come I'm the most interesting thing you could possibly be doing tonight Jim?- I asked, checking how his name rolled off my tongue.
- I don't know Olivier, you tell me - he countered my question, taking a sip of his drink. That threw me off track, but I dug the fingers of my left hand into my knee, not letting myself lose control again. I sighed, trying to brush it off and give myself a few more seconds to come up with a good answer.
- Alright then… Let me play your guessing game now - I sprang out, lightly slamming my hand on the counter. I looked at him, as he just shrugged with a playful smile and turned to me.
- Go on then, let us see how you do. I grabbed my chin, trying to make myself seem like I knew what I was doing and looked Jim up and down, then gazed over at his drink and then back at his quite handsome face.
-First guess- I'm the only one who showed up today and you were waiting for some other folks from Pablo or whoever - I said pointing at him, pretty confident in my answer even if it was the most obvious one.
-Lucky shot there, even though you couldn't really miss from that far - he smiled and reached for his drink. - But that doesn't explain why I turned around and came back to stay with you, does it?
No, it did not. Crap. Okay, focus, why did he turn back, right at the doorstep? He remembered his other plans for tonight actually got cancelled? Not likely, he seemed way too organized for that. He actually thought I'd make an interesting companion for the night? Yeah in my dreams. He realized that Pablo’s guy just might be late? Nah, he agreed with me that no one else was going to show up. So why? Was it just his change of mood? Could it really be that unbelievably simple? I felt like my time was running out and not able to come up with anything better. I went with what I had.
-You just had a-- I don't know? A change of mind, a whim, or something?- I stayed my answer as a question, not really confident in what I was saying. His face lit up in a slight shock.
-Would you look at that! Another lucky guess, how come…- he replied with a subtle chuckle - You're really on a roll today Olivier - he added taking another sip of his drink. I smiled and shrugged it off. - Yeah, seems to be my lucky night
- I said jokingly and gazed over at Jim. It's his charm that threw me off and I caught that just now. His slight smiles and the subtle way in which he reached for his glass. The jet black hair and pretty eyes. The confidence you could easily sense flowing from him and of which he was surely aware. His handsome face and well-managed posture. You could fall for him in a blink of an eye and I hated it. Absolutely hated it. Some time passed as we were talking more about "the business" or rather Jim was pretty curious about my rifle, my favourite pistol model and some other things which I had to admit was quite nice since I finally knew what I was talking about. Time passed, I got to finish my wine and even the rest of the Guinness. Moriarty was sipping on his drink rather slowly, still playing with his glass every so often. Time passed and suddenly it was 10 pm. The last of the fancy-dressed ladies were leaving the pub and all the tourists were gone. The group of elderly gentlemen was just getting up from their table, exchanging goodbyes and heading to the door. A few couples, smaller groups, and lone wolves remained scattered around. I reached for my phone and unlocked it to check the time. Jim also looked at my phone screen and finished his drink.
-What? Did it suddenly get late for you?- he asked with a smirk sliding through his face.
-No… - I replied, looking at my screen once more and hiding my phone back into the back pocket of my jeans. - No I just- the time flew by surprisingly quick - I added, letting a smile appear on my face as well. I should get going and I knew that, but I didn't really want to… I got so caught up in this conversation and in Moriarty's charm that I was willing to sit here all night. Or at least as long as the pub was going to be open.
-Feels like… you should get going - he said, turning on his stool as though he wanted to get up.
-I… well maybe, but it's nothing urgent I can stay a little longer - I spat out quickly, trying to keep him in place. Oh, that was so miserable. The smile on his face told me he noticed and I could feel my cheeks getting a little warmer. Jim jumped off his stool and sighed, fixing his suit.
- Alright then, maybe I'll just walk you home? - he said, not even looking at me, more like he was just considering this option, thinking out loud to himself.
- Thank you, but that would've been too long of a walk - I replied getting off my stool and pretty certain that the next thing I was going to say was "goodbye, have a good night".
- Pity - Jim sighed and looked up at me. Okay, alright maybe going outside wasn't that bad after all. At least he wouldn't be able to see my face going completely red in the dim lights of the street lamps.
- I uh… I mean, I suppose we can walk a part of the road together? - I said, rubbing the back of my neck with my left hand.
- Now that's better - Jim replied, putting his hands in the front pockets of his trousers and turning to the bar as I got off my stole.
-Gabe, would you be so kind and give me that bottle you opened for me?- he asked the bartender, taking a few banknotes out of his pocket and placing them on the counter. The man smiled back at him, muttered an “of course sir” and placed the bottle on the counter, taking the money. Moriarty nodded kindly, took the bottle, and headed to the exit. I followed him, leaving a quiet “goodbye” for the barkeeper. We passed the elderly gentleman on our way out, stepped outside, and turned right going into a small alley that went steeply uphill. I ran swiftly to catch up with Jim as I got tangled in the doorstep between people saying their goodbyes and good wishes. He had a rather quick paste so I had to do a few quick steps to adjust to him. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket and gazed over at Jim. The dim, warm light of the street lamps made his hair glow like he had an aureole. Which, come to think of it, was quite funny, since he hired me to shoot a few people for him… But then wasn’t it just right, that light formed a halo for him? Who was I to judge what bigger cause might be hiding behind these few lives... Oh and after all, God wasn’t a saint either as far as I knew.
-What is it?- Jim asked, shaking me out of my thoughts and I realized I was staring at him the whole time. I quickly turned my head, locking my eyes on the pavement.
-Nothing- I muttered -I just got lost in my thoughts, sorry- I added trying to excuse myself.
-What thoughts?- Moriarty asked so casually it almost scared me. Doesn’t this man have even the tiniest bit of anxiety? Anything? On the other hand, he probably wouldn’t get far if he did or showed it or in general, behaved like a scared rabbit such as myself.
-I… Nothing much, I just figured God isn’t a saint really- I replied kicking a small stone off the pavement.
-That’s a “nothing” for you? Did they teach you, Nitzsche, as a part of your army training?- he chuckled, giving me a quick glance. I smiled and shrugged it off a little.
-Nitzsche said that god is dead. I doubt he thought much of him after- I uttered, showing my hands deeper into the pockets of my jacket. -And no, they didn’t teach us that in the army, it was my mum who did.
- An assassin and a philosopher? Doesn’t that conflict you?- Jim dug deeper and I shook my head hoping to cover my face with my short hair.
- If you're asking if it stops me from shooting people, then no. I never liked Kant either way… Moriarty nodded with a smile, not replying and so we walked a few minutes in silence. As we got to the top of the hill Jim suddenly stopped and looked around. At first, I didn’t notice and went a few steps ahead of him, then stopped and turned around.
-Something’s wrong?- I asked him. I got a short nod as an answer, so with a small sigh I walked back to him.
-What is it? Did you get lost?- I asked again jokingly, but Jim just shook his head still looking around the area.
-No…-he finally said quietly -Well maybe, how far are we from Saint Paul Street?
-Not far I think? We need to cross this square, then turn... right?- I replied, looking around to comfort myself that I rightly guessed our position. And bingo! On the other side of the street, I noticed a sign, saying that we were currently at the union square and the street we got here from was Linton Street.
-Yeah, turn right. The arc centre is on the left- I added, happy with myself that I got it. Moriarty nodded, looked around the square again, and sighed.
-Alright, I suppose we can sit here. The lights are a little bright…
Unsure of what he meant I just nodded and followed Jim. We entered a small green square named “Union Square Gardens” as I guessed from the writing on a big, metal archway that was “Kindly welcoming you”. We walked down a sandy path, further into the square, up to a small bench underneath a big oak. Moriarty placed the bottle on the bench and sat next to it. I followed him as he opened the bottle and then handed it to me. I looked up at him, my eyebrows raised high since I was already a little tipsy. Oh and mixing strong alcohols with wine usually didn’t end well. Jim just moved the bottle closer to me with an intentionally polite, but piercing look in his eyes. Now you couldn’t say no to that, you just couldn’t. So I grabbed the bottle out of his hand and took a sip. I twisted my mouth as the alcohol burned its way down my throat and handed the bottle back to Jim. He didn’t even flinch, of course, he didn’t.
-So your mum taught you Nitzsche and Kant and who else?- Jim asked, placing the bottle on the bench between us.
-And all of the other important ones I guess? I remember the basics…
-Do you have a favourite?
-Do we really want to get into philosophy while semi-drunk?- I countered his question and chuckled.
-Definitely, while we’re drunk- he replied frankly serious- There’s no better way to talk about philosophy. When you’re sober you think too much- Moriarty added, taking a big sip of bourbon and handing me the bottle. Hesitant at first I took the bottle and also dared myself to take a bigger gulp. I clutched my fingers around the bottle’s neck trying to hold my expression in place. I sighed and drank from the bottle once again.
-Camus - I said placing the bottle back in its place -Camus is my favourite - I answered his question.
-And I know what you’ll say! Not very ambitious, plus he was sexist, but what can I do? Schopenhauer would be my second place. Moriarty was just sitting there, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, looking at me with a slight smirk. I turned to him waiting for a response.
-Existentialism? you've surprised me Olivier and not many people are able to do that- he said. I shrugged my shoulders and figured I should take that as a compliment.
-Thank you? And I guess it's an achievement worth remembering - I chuckled leaning back against the back of the bench and looking up at the night sky through the branches of the tree. I took a deep breath of the cold air as my mind was finally slowing down and more importantly clearing itself from most thoughts and anxieties. My eyes were closed lightly and without opening them I asked Jim:
-Who's yours?
-Who's mine what?
-Who's your favourite philosopher?- I corrected my question. I heard a sigh and opened my eyes to see Jim also leaning back.
- I don't have one. Too much of a struggle.- he replied
- A struggle?- I asked curiously.
- They're mostly all dead and what good will it do a dead man that I pick his nonsense thoughts, that others think too highly of, as my favourite? - Moriarty replied, also looking up at the tree. I instead, fixed my eyes on him, quite astonished by his words. Come to think of it, he might be right but then? Isn't this another one of, what he called it? Another part of the "nonsense thoughts" philosophers and poets have about whether we mean anything after we're dead…
- I know I'm incredibly talented, but I still can't read your mind, you know that?- he said with a smile that for once felt like it was natural. Very slight, but there wasn't anything behind it.
-Oh, right. Sorry - I replied snapping out of it and turning my head as I had been (of course I have) staring at his handsome face the whole time. I repeated out loud what I was thinking about just a second ago and bent my knees, placing my feet at the edge of the lower part of the bench. Jim stayed silent for a while as if he was suddenly the one thinking through his answer and yet, as it was the matter with him, he didn't give me one. Instead, he just sighed, sat up straight, grabbed the bottle and stood up taking a generous sip of the alcohol.
-Maybe you were right, let's not do philosophy drunk. Then… You! - he said pointing a finger at me with the hand he was still holding the bottle in.
-I want to know more about you- he added. I looked at him surprised, which again, was nothing new. Oh lord, being around this man was tiring. Not that I was complaining, but you just never knew what he was going to say, you couldn't read him! That made me feel like a confused animal at times, like a fish in a round bowl.
- There isn't much of it but go ahead, ask whatever you want - I said smiling and pulling myself up so that I was sitting at the top of the bench with my feet resting on its lower part. Jim twisted his lips apparently trying to form a question. I didn't want to nag him, but it was funny to see him not have an immediate response for once.
- Alright, your accent - he said finally, throwing me off track for the thousandth time this evening. - It's good but it's not native English. You said you went to Iraq, but since you're not English it must've been one of the European countries that's a part of NATO. So which one is it?
I flinched uncomfortably. Oh how I wished that sometimes you could just cut off your past, especially when there wasn't anything worth holding on too. -Does it really matter? I've been living with my family in England for so… - I tried dodging the question, but one glance at Moriarty's face told me that wasn't really going to work. I sighed deeply.
- Poland. I was born in Poland, not that I'm incredibly proud of it - I finally gave him an answer frowning at it. - And I would prefer to leave it at that, there isn’t much to talk about, trust me - I said adding a chuckle at the end, really hoping we would just move on. A small, someone would say predator-like smile appeared on Jim’s face and I flinched.
- Oh no, the subjects you don’t… - he started but I really decided I was having none of it at that point. I stood up quickly, firmly grabbed a bottle out of his hand and stopped right in front of him, my head dizzy from the sudden movement.
- Oh no sir. - I said, mocking him. -There really isn't anything to talk about - I stayed firmly, our faces being the closest they’ve been to each other this far. Which for a moment distracted me, as our eyes were just rushing over the other’s features, finding and memorizing the bits we were unable to see before. I finally got the strength to snap out of it and stepped back, taking a big sip from the bottle, not really carrying right now. I dropped my guard right now in order to push back the flashbacks of my early years. Yeah, there was nothing to talk about.
- Kurwa - I let a silent curse slip from my lips as I sat back on the top of the bench. I looked up at Jim who was standing there, hands in the front pockets of his pants, smiling. I sighed deeply and rubbed my forehead with my free hand, him clearly waiting for me to say something, to make the next move. It was exhausting, did I mention that already?
- Alright, mister! Your turn - a slightly devilish smile climbed to my lips as I slapped my head back on my thigh.
- Tell me something you know about yourself, that no one else does - I said, resting my arms on my knees. Moriarty smiled and turned his head to the side and oh what a great feeling it was for that moment when I was sure that finally I was the one to get him. Jim bit his lip, sighed and turned back to me.
- I’m a very good kisser - he replied so carelessly, that I raised my brows in surprise. I chuckled, shaking my head slightly, not noticing that he took a few steps forward, to stand right in front of me.
- Okay that’s a very intre..- I started lifting my head back up and gasping at my own words, seeing how close to one another we were again.
- ..sting fact - I added, practically whispering the rest of my sentence when Jim leaned towards me. I was sure he was going to step back any minute now and just laugh at me sitting there with an open mouth and wide eyes. He’s just playing, like he did the whole evening and…
His lips were gentle, sweet from the alcohol we both drank and warm. I closed my eyes, hardly able to catch a breath. I felt his hand on my jaw pulling me closer as he kissed me and I just tried to keep my balance on the bench. Unsure if the world was spinning because of him, because of the bourbon or because of whatever it was. I should stop thinking so much. I rested my hands on his stomach, trying not to fall over and gave back every kiss, feeling my cheeks overheating and his hand strongly grabbing my face. Dear god.
When he finally pulled back I grasped for air almost desperately opening my eyes and of course, the first thing I saw was his dumb, cheeky smile. I opened my mouth wanting to say something, ask him even if I had no idea what it was, but Jim didn’t let me. He kissed me again, softly and shortly this time, his hand slightly moving up and on the back of my neck. Then he stopped, our lips still so close I felt his breath on mine.
- Just in case you were doubting me - he whispered and then took his hand back, my face following it as if he put a weird charm on me. And as he stood up straight, putting his hands again into his pockets I sat there with open lips and teary eyes, trying to process what the fuck had just happened. Snapping out I closed my mouth and lifted my hand to cover my face.
- I’m sorry, but what the fuck was that? - I asked and unable to stop myself from it, laughing nervously right after. Moriarty looked at me surprised and it just made me laugh even louder. I was doing my best to hold it, try and cover my mouth but that didn’t really work. I slumped down on the bench, tears rolling from my eyes as all of the stress just left through that laugh and my stomach started to hurt. After a while, Jim also chuckled and shook his head. Oh dear lord, this was so embarrassing. - I’m.. I’m sorry.. Oh- oh my god - I finally made out, calming down after maybe a minute.
- Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to I just…- I started excusing myself, brushing my hair with my hand, trying to figure out what the fuck do I do now. Jim just lifted his hands and dragged them through his face, looking at me with, what I’d say was an exhausted smile.
- I wasn’t mistaken saying, you’re possibly the best entertainment for me tonight - he sighed. I got up slowly, to keep my balance.
- Thank you. I’m trying my best - I replied relieved, I let my guard down and gone as I stood next to Jim. A thought of “I wouldn’t mind if he kissed me again’’ crossed my mind, as in, and god might damn me for it, he really was a very good kisser.
- So… - I started, wanting to ask what we were supposed to do now because just staying on this bench for the rest of the night wasn’t the best plan. Oh and in the meantime, I finished the bottle we had. Moriarty was looking somewhere beyond the bench I just got up from and it seemed like he was going through thousands of options in his head, in the span of a few seconds. Then he sighed and looked at me. I managed a soft smile upon seeing his troubled face and wanted to ask if we were okay, but Jim cut in first:
- I shouldn’t be trusting you, should I?- he asked himself more than me. I bit my lip and shrugged it off.
- Probably no, not really… - I said folding my hands behind my back - Or depends with what... - I wanted to add, but Moriarty just grabbed my wrist, then pulled me closer to him grabbing my hand and just looked at me again with his piercing eyes. I stood my ground this time, tangled my fingers with his, and sent him a half smile.
- Bad idea… - he mumbled to himself, but not low enough so I could still hear it.
- Oh come on, I'm sure you've had worse - I cut in, slightly squeezing his hand. Jim sighed, I thought fuck it, leaned in and kissed him again. It wasn't as confident and firm as when he kissed me but I just had to, even if just a second. And then I could feel him smile as he freed his hand from mine, grabbing my cheek and pulling me closer into a warm kiss yet again. I placed my hand on his and let myself get lost in his soft lips for this wonderful while. My god was he a good kisser. He moved away firmly but not quickly and I took his hand off my cheek, though not letting it go. Jim sighed and didn't try to free himself from my grip.
- As I said before, you’re the best possible thing I could be doing this evening so let me be a man of my word this one awful time... Let’s go to my place, I doubt I have any rose wine there, but I’ll figure something out - he said like a true charmer and I nodded, smiling and biting my lip to hold my excitement back.
- Let me see what you’ve got - I replied playfully and for the second time in one evening, I got a genuine smile out of Jim Moriarty.