Delightful | William James Moriarty x Reader

Chapter 3

If you were given a coin every time you woke from slumber with a aching pain somewhere on your body, you'd be quite rich by now.

For the first time in what felt like forever you've woken in soft bedding sheets compared to usually waking up on a cold hard floor.

Sitting on top of sheets, you look around the empty and dark room and wonder..
where the actual fuck are you ?

The room showed no sign of someone living in the room, perhaps it was a spare room. A spare room that was bigger than your entire apartment that is.
An empty desk at your side at just then you saw the light shining through as the curtains were barely closed. The sky was painted of various shades of navy.
It's late at night.

Before your hand could even touch the door, your eye catches the mirror on the wall. Your tired eyes widen at the sight of the bruise on your forehead now bigger and colour turned to mix of dark indigo purple and a misty green. How awful looking it was.

But as you make your way out to what looks to be a rather long corridor you suddenly stop to gather your racing thoughts. This is someone's house. Someone's deliberately brought you here. There's no way you've found your own way here. Even if you were pissed drunk you've always somehow managed to find your way back to your own bed. Or rather your own floor.

For some reason or another you come to a conclusion that not many must live in this vast place. What a shame, personally you would put some more pictures up to make the place more lively. Shaking your head at the thought, you hesitantly walk towards the stairs, eyeing over the banisters.

Slight whispers of chatter grazes past your ears. There's at least three present from your guess. How can you possibly introduce yourself without being seen as an intruder despite clearly being one ? Have them rightfully question you as to why you're in their home despite not even knowing yourself ? Or somehow try to sneak past the wide open doors and run out. But run to where ? Your options are slim and your chances of success are even slimmer.

As you reach the bottom of the staircase it's when reality strikes. There's no chance of this working. At first you rise on your tippy toes for two steps like a baby leaking it's first steps or what you look like after having too many bottles of alcohol.

The chattering continues and you find your confidence to hurriedly skip a few steps and just when your hand reaches out for the handle.. a sudden crash hits off the ground the noise could wake up anyone nearby. Before you can even turn your head you cringe at knowing the sound. It's a vase. A fucking vase of all things smashes all over the ground. Where the fuck did it even come from ?

Your brows furrow in frustration yet they drop in worry as four men walk out behind you in the still dim lit corridor.
"Are you sure she didn't hit her head off the carriage ?" Your eyes squint in irritation. "We'll I can't be completely positive. She does seem to have a bruise on side of her head." The tall dark haired man states. For a moment you had forgotten about your bruise. Your hand reaches to touch it but then you suddenly halt at a moment of realisation.

Of the men before you, you recognise the two dark haired men from before. Th were the last thing you saw before you went unconscious. The blond young man with glasses who questioned if you hit your head stood rather slightly annoyed. The other man stood so polite and quiet it was slightly off putting . But what really caught you off guard was him wearing a fine emerald suit. Who the hell wears a suit late evening ?

It then finally dawned on you that those two men brought you back to their home...and you broke an expensive vase.
"I don't even know who you people are !" You snap, this was really starting to get frustrating. These men were standing here looking somewhat entertained by your confusion and you were left wondering when this disaster will end.

"You seem to be in a struggle." The man with emerald like eyes spoke.
"It seems that you've had a rather tiresome day. Perhaps have a rest and all will be discussed tomorrow." He continues.
"This must feel rather intimidating but please be rest assured that you're in safe hands."

Tiredsome wouldn't exactly be the word you'd use. There's far too much to process. Why were this men so welcoming and not questioning you ? Well perhaps that was the case for tomorrow. But still surely they wouldn't let you stay without a second thought ? Would they ?

"Hey !" You screech at the sudden force of being picked up. What was with this dark haired man and picking people up ?!
"Have you got a sweeping brush ?! I'll clean up the vase of that's the problem !" You call out as you're practically dragged away to the room you were in moments ago.

"Not even a goodnight ?" You raise a brow at the man who barely acknowledges you as he merely looks back before shutting the door behind him. Standing still for a moment you can't help but feel lost. What now ?

As you slowly walk towards the window you see how dark the sky has become. You've no idea what time it is but by guessing it's definitely past ten o clock.
But just then theres a sudden noise at the door. You turn, quickly walking over to inspect.

Your hand grabs the knob but nothing. You find yourself then violently pulling at it. But to no avail the door doesn't budge.
The bastard locked you in.

If they can determine whether you're locked in a room or not then you know now that you're not in "safe hands".
"How could I not think there was a catch ?" You sigh with your hand covering your face. "Wait a minute." You look back again towards the small window.
At this moment is when you come to the conclusion.

The further you are away from this place and them the better.