Delightful | William James Moriarty x Reader

Chapter 1

"Ugh." You groan, arm hanging off the rather small and rather falling apart sofa.
The rather small couch was usually more comfortable than this but then again you can't recall the last time you slept on the couch instead of your own bed. Ah yes.

It slowly but surely was coming back to you. How you the previous night had gone out and found yourself drinking more than the average intake and then when you crawled your way back to your neglected apartment, you could barely find it in yourself to crawl to the puny bedroom. So here you lay some hours later with your clothes tossed about and your neck painfully stiff.

Taking a blind turn, suddenly you slip off the couch and fall flat onto the floor but of course not before smacking your head off the coffee table. "Ah !" You scream.
"Fucking bastard." You groan, shakingly pulling yourself off the floor.

Squinting your eyes at the floor noticing your phone that was somehow not smashed to bits.  Picking it up you see how the battery reads. One percent.
Just then. The screen goes black. Dead.
"Typical." You scoff, heading to plug the but just then you froze. The charger-oh wait..the charger that was currently broken and not working.

"You know what ? Fuck you I don't need you." You sneer at the phone, throwing it onto the couch before making your way to the bedroom while of course tripping on last week's laundry clothes on the way.

You can't help but sigh at the scene.
An unmade bed that you said you'd make two days ago still remains untouched.

Pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants along with a plain black jumper from the cluster of clothing, you dress and before slipping by you catch yourself in the reflection.
A small but present bruise forming on the top left side of your forehead. Fantastic.

.

The towns busy street remains packed and slightly chaotic. Many people gather round the local markets eager to see what awaits whether it'd be clothing or hand made crafts. Something you purposely came to see.

"I should've brought a jacket." You wince at the cold breeze as it passed by. By the sight of the orange sky it had already seemed to have become late afternoon and yet the town showed no sight of slowing down.

Almost sleepily walking, someone roughly pushes by, hitting against your shoulder.
You halt, turning your head slightly to eye the man.

"Tch !" The man grunts. "Watch where you're headed !" At that the idiot scurries off.

"You watch where you're going !" You call back,  rolling your eyes at the unaware bloke.
"Dickhead." You mutter, picking up your pace.

But just then you suddenly stop. Just down the road, exactly straight ahead from you were a museum that you had once heard of but never actually thought to visit. Whether it'd be due to hangovers or not that didn't matter now.

Maybe you should-
"Head in."

You gasp at the unexpected voice. Turing around to detect the unfamiliar tone you spot an elderly woman, by your guess possibly in her mid seventies and who was quite short, standing behind a market stand. You can't help but note that she's on her own.

Your brows raise in confusion and yet this seems to amuse the woman. "You were eyeing that ol' museum weren't you, little lady ?" The old woman smiles but yet it doesn't look natural as despite her age, no smile lines were present. How-

"Odd." She states, slowly but surely, making her way around the stand. "You should go on and have a little look in there." She points with her index finger that was littered in rings.
"You'll never know what you'll discover." She nods.

"I...see." You frown, slightly at a loss for words.
Who is this-

"Woman." The elderly woman barks with a stern tone.

Your eyes widen at her change. "You ought to go there now...before you get stuck."
Without another word, you head straight on down to the museum, without daring to look back.

.

Your steps echoed off the marble ground as you shyly walked closer to the grand painting.
Out of all the paintings present in the secluded area you found yourself in, you couldn't help but be attracted to this particular piece. Perhaps the fact that it was the largest painting in the room didn't help. Every step you took closer you couldn't help but take in every detail. Despite the signature being clear as day it was hard to pinpoint the year.

You could assume it was Victorian era due to the gloomy London like landscape.

"Fascinating isn't it ?" A quiet voice spoke.

Your head snapped to the right at the unfamiliar voice. There stood a man who was awfully close to you considering he's a stranger. He stood rather tall, furrowed brows with inhumanly dark eyes staring down at your confused state. The man also appeared dressed well as your curious eyes eyed him from head to toe. The man wore a dark indigo suit.

Your brows furrow in sudden irritation.

"Who the hell are yo-

"Wouldn't it be delightful to just go there and leave this exhausting life of ours ?" The man questions, not hesitating to cut you off. "I suppose." You mutter, turning around to suddenly note that the museum was suddenly abandoned. No one in sight.

Except for you and this odd fellow.

            "You suppose ?" He grins.
                    "How delightful."

"Assuming you're referring to time travel or what not, I wouldn't be mad going back to the seventies, I suppose everything was flares and all but couldn't be all that bad could it ?" You chuckle. You're not sure why now you felt the need to state it but yet it's not as if you were the one to suddenly start the rather unusual conversation. You look around, expecting to face the man and yet like everyone, he's no where to be found. "What the fuck ?" You mutter, raising a brow.

"Ma'am." You hear from the right. Looking over you see a security guard not far looking rather agitated. "The museum closes in five minutes." "Oh." You sigh. You were barely here. You couldn't help but think this was your "lesson" for having too much to drink as of last night. Or the last few weeks. "Apologies, sir." You sincerely state, already taking your leave.

"I've gotta head home."
You moan, wrapping your arms around yourself as you sluggishly make your way back.
Yet, whether you'd be hungover or not, you fail to notice the lurking presence just stood a few feet away.

"And home you shall."