Him, Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 30- Temper

------Willow POV------

The room spins, he hates me. I can't breathe and the thought of my brother still alive gives me guilt. I left him. I almost killed him. He's never going to forgive me, I can hear it in his voice. The anger, the betrayal he feels. His venomous words seep into my skin, the words that say that I left him to die. The words kill me like I killed him. As these thoughts run, I pull closer to my brother. Pushing Sherlock, only hoping that he calms down. My brother's wide blue eyes stare into my soul, burning the remains of my beating heart, burning the breathing lungs I carry.

"What do you have to say, Sister?" He says, his voice dark, cold, and quite terrifying. His lips slightly turn up in mockery while fixing his leather jacket. He has a plain look, though his facial features are sharp and his jawline rough with scruff facial hair. His blue eyes sharp and the color of caribbean water. The defined scar on his left cheek almost unnoticeable as it moves with his 'smile'.

I keep my soft hands to myself, trying my best to not reach out and hug him. I look into his glare and smile wanly. Almost crying.

"All I have to say is that I love you, and I was too idiotic to ever check your pulse." I pause and look down. "I'm sorry." I whisper.

He laughs.

I look at him quizzically, why is he laughing?

He looks up from the ground without moving his head though.

"No you're not." He laughs again. I frown at him and sigh knowing that there is no reason to argue.

"I love you." I whisper sadly.

"You never have." He smirks and glances left to right three times. It takes me a moment to process. It's the signal. I grin at him. His blue eyes seem brighter than before.

Jim seems to have suspected something, Chara's face is very confused, while Sherlock and John wait. Wait for something to happen.

We had been close, my brother and I, we had made secret codes with our eye movements. Very simple codes that only we understood. Even though my brother was only 3 he was very intelligent and could come up with many things, creative is what my parents called him. Their creative and straight A son that they were very proud of. I, however, was different matter.

I nodded at Alistair and he did back. I turn my body to Sherlock who turns his head 15 degrees to the left. His blue eyes seem more light as the pool reflects light into them. I lean towards him and whisper in his ear so no one else can hear.

"Did Sherlock Holmes not even notice? Oh well, all we need to worry about now is Moriarty." I say bragging, pulling away and turning around, letting him process.

I glare into Motiarty's eyes with pure hatred. 

----Alistair POV-----

My sister grinned understanding the signal. I know she never intended on letting me die. She had already thought I had died, that's the only reasonable consent.  Willow whispers something to the man I assume is Sherlock and is also her boy friend. She turns back and glares at Jim. 

"Why are we here, Moriarty?" She asks coldly, spitting out his name like it shouldn't be apart of her vocabulary. I hear Jim laugh darkly, it echos throughout the poolroom.

"Only to see you, Darling." He lowers his head only slightly, making a shadow fall on part of his face. 

(So very sorry for the short chapter)