𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 || 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ V

'*•.¸♡ Try Again ♡¸.•*'
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

The enigmatic riddle, its cryptic words reverberating in your mind, refusing to let you sleep. 'I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all?' You absentmindedly trace your palm, desperately seeking to decipher its meaning. 'What is hardest to express? Easiest to ignore? Feelings?' Frustrated, you reach for your phone and message Moriarty.

'Feelings?'

Time seems to stretch into an endless abyss as you await Moriarty's response, the seconds dragging on like an eternity. Finally, your screen burst into life, shattering the silence with a notification.

'Sorry, that's not it... try again, dollface~'

Your frustration boils over as you read Moriarty's response, and you can't help but roll your eyes at his 'nickname.' "Irish arsehole!" You growl, slamming the phone onto your bed. Your hands instinctively cover your face as you take three deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. Glancing at the clock through your fingers, you see the time: 4:29 am. Sleep seems futile at this point. You tear off the blanket that has cocooned you, instantly feeling the chill in the air.

Goosebumps form on your limbs as your bare feet hit the chilled, wooden floors. You creep down the hallway, cringing at every creak as you pass the boys' rooms. You peek out the large window in the living room, surprised to see a man standing out in the snow. The snow dances around him, causing his form to look majestic.

You watch the man as you peek from behind the heavy curtains. He grins at you as shock overtakes your features. It's him. You shakily back away from the glass, unsure of the best option. After you collect yourself, you push through the fabric again and notice his body has vanished. You breathe a sigh of relief, but you have celebrated too soon as there were three identical knocks on the main door.

"Let me in, Darling~" His voice, muffled by the wood between you, carries a hint of urgency. You descend the stairs, your curiosity piqued. "Y/n. Let me in." His once playful voice now held a note of seriousness as he rattles the doorknob.

"If you wanted to come in, you would've."

His silence sounds like a proud smirk. "Isn't it more fun this way, kitten?"

You scrunch your face at the revolting pet names. "What do you want?"

"Let me in, and I'll tell ya~"

"I'm not a fool, Moriarty, so I'll ask again," you growl through the door, your voice laced with defiance. You step closer to the door, mere centimetres away. "What do you want?"

His silence says more than enough before a faint whisper of his voice pushes through the wood. "Now, it wouldn't be very entertaining if I told you, now would it?"

You sigh deeply, resigned to the fact that this man only wants to play his twisted games. "Then James, enjoy the snow, build a snowman, make some snow angels, you arse." A sense of satisfaction washes over you as you turn to walk away. But as you ascend three steps, the front door creaks open, revealing a chilling surprise that left you frozen in place.

"Darling, you didn't think I'd actually play by the rules, did you?" The way he holds himself, his menacing grin on his skin, and his smooth tone as he taunts you made you feel something you've never felt—and you aren't sure you liked it. "Don't you look all cute in your PJs," he cooes, eyeing you up and down.

You scoff but reach to cover yourself. "What is so important that you had to, y'know, break in to tell me?" Your eyebrows furrow as you glare at the Irish man before you.

He chuckles cynically as he approaches you. "That? That was just for fun, my dear..." He leans by your ear, a menacing whisper leaving his lips. "I love watching you squirm—just as you are now." He slowly backs away, smirking at your distracted gaze. He notices how your pupils dilate the closer he gets to you, how your heart rate speeds up, and your breathing quickens—he has you wrapped around his finger.

Once you collect yourself, knowing wholeheartedly that Moriarty has a point, you stare at the man. "You're sick!" you spit from the stairs.

His reaction is not one you had anticipated you'd receive. He sucks his teeth before presenting his signature smirk. "Is that such a bad thing? You seem to enjoy it."

Your eyes shoot wide because of his accusation. Enjoyed it? He is just trying to get in your head, you remind yourself. "You know nothing of me!"

"Is that so?" he challenges, raising an eyebrow at you. "I do know you'll leave here with me."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

He pushes back the side of his coat, revealing the firearm that is strapped to his hip. You roll your eyes as you know the gun could do you no harm.

"It's not loaded."

Moriarty slowly claps his hands together, grinning mischievously. "Brava, my darling." He steps to you, halting inches from you. "You're different than your brothers, Y/n."

"Is that so?" you question, not missing his left-hand slip into his pocket. You eye him as he folds his hands, the left tighter than the right, and frown slightly.

"Well~ they usually know when something won't end their way..." His left palm shoots ups to cover your mouth and nose before you could react as the smell of chloroform invades your senses. "But, that's okay... you'll learn," he mumbles as he wraps an arm around your waist. "That's it, darling. Just relax~" he cooes as you feel your consciousness leave you. The last thing you hear was Jim growling into your ear, "You're mine now."

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