The stunning girl sat inside of an elegantly-decorated hotel room and stared at her laptop in silence, questioning whether or not it was a good idea to trust the text messages, the whispers, and the notes she found from some "JM" person. She was very glad to not have her secrets splashed on magazine covers but at the cost of her partial freedom? It bothered her that she had to type these strange, dark poems to some detective on a fanfiction website exactly or she was threatened with gruesome things. There were two sets of footsteps outside of the door that came to her attention.
No one was supposed to be on wandering around her floor at this time of night, the rooms were either empty or occuppied with people who went to bed early all the time. She shrugged it off as fear from this "JM" guy's threats and ordered herself decaffienated green tea from room service over the phone. There was a quick knock at the door as soon as she put the phone down and Zhara knew that the room service couldn't be that speedy.
"Uhm, hello-" Lorelin began awkwardly.
"Mm, I could go for a cuppa too. Should've knocked sooner. May we come in?" Sherlock smiled.
"Who are you?" Zhara asked in a mild Saudi Arabian accent.
"Sherlock Holmes. Knowing what you've been doing to keep your scandals stashed away, I know that you recognize my name." He pushed through the doorway and got inside her room.
"You can't just come in here! I'll call security!"
"They're a bit occuppied at the moment, good luck with that." Sherlock replied and sat at the desk chair on the far side of the room.
"Sorry, but we have to discuss something with you." Lorelin apologized.
"Like what? You want to release my secrets too?"
"Of course not, I may be an arse to people sometimes but I have no use in selling gossip stories. You need to tell me what Jim Moriarty has said to you."
"Is that what "JM" stands for? The bad guy who stole the Crown Jewels and got arrested but was found not guilty?"
"Yes. Now we see exactly why you're a model and why you've bargained your life to Moriarty."
"What?" She furrowed her brows.
"You're aesthetically pleasing to general people and are extremely clueless."
The door was knocked on again and Lorelin took silent steps to answer it. She peeked throught the viewing hole by standing on her toes since it was a few centimeters over her eye level. Her eyes dramatically widened as her heart rate sped up and she stealthily ran to her step-uncle and Zhara.
"Mister Ho-" She started but stopped at Sherlock's grimace towards the name, "Uhm...Uncle Sherlock??" Lorelin whispered.
"Oh please, my hatred towards being called "Uncle Sherlock" is about the same amount of hatred you possess towards when your mum calls you "Dearie". Just call me by my first name like all people." He rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Okay then, Sherlock, would it bother you if the room service guy looked an awful lot like Moriarty? Like, twin-level?" She said with a sassy tone creeping into her hushed voice.
"Yes, yes it would. Now please back away from the both of us once I open the door to him. We don't need anyone else dying. Especially not you Lorelin, Mycroft would never let me hear the end of it." Sherlock walked to the door and slowly opened it.
"I've brought tea." Moriarty smiled and came inside with a tea cart.
"Oh stop it already. What did you think was going to occur here? You'd kill her?" The detective pointed at the dark-haired beauty cowering in total fear.
