Sherlock tip toed through the dark alleyway that led up to a lush green garden. The smell of the blooming roses hit his nose before the oasis came into view. The old black rusty gate creaked open and Sherlock made his way in without a sound. In the middle of the circle of petunias, a man the same age as Sherlock sat. His crossed legs were completely still on the ground, his back straight and his head was facing the full moon. Sherlock got a god view of the individual through the various flower bushes. Moriarty's small eyes were closed, his dark grey shirt tucked carefully into his pants. The tie that was around his neck had small skulls on it and his hair was completely undisturbed. It was gelled down, obedient; Something that Moriarty himself would never be.
"Hello" a voice rang.
YOU ARE READING
Texting Sherlock
FanfictionA collection of texts/conversations between the famous detective Sherlock Holmes and his blogger, John Watson. Blog posts by John may also be included in this compilation. *Art is not mine*
