Sherlock Imagines

Trouble in Paradise (MoriartyxReader)

Kudos to CastielsOnlyAngel for giving me this prompt. It broke me! You little- I'm okay. I'm okay. Let's just do this, alright?

He was different. This man you loved with your entire self, and he wouldn't let you in. You had taken James as your husband awhile ago. Coming up on year five, actually. Everything had been going fine until your anniversary seven months ago. At first you thought he just felt bad because he had to leave immediately after, but now it was heart shattering. He couldn't look at you, he didn't talk much, he couldn't hold you like he used to. He was nothing more than a ghost of the cuddly, Always-Has-To-Be-Mr-Punchline, examining man he once was. What you couldn't figure out was why. Every time you asked, he'd say he was fine, and stalk off. He always made his own coffee in the morning- even after you'd made him some- and it wasn't even right. You knew him, and his coffee drinking habits. He always took three sugars, one cream. He couldn't stand anything even slightly bitter, so black wasn't an option. Yet, days after day you watched him pour the boiling coffee into his "#1 criminal" mug (which was odd because he always used to use the one you gave him, it had his name in your writing, and said 'forever yours'), adding not a grain of sugar, nor drop of cream. You stared as he grimaced every time after forcing the strong bitterness down his gullet, and continue reading through files. He never ate when you cooked, and when he cooked he never stayed to eat with you. He refused to fall asleep at the same time as you, and if he couldn't wait for you to fall asleep, he'd sleep in his office or on the couch. You tried to be understanding. Sebastian was his best friend, but even he couldn't figure it out.
Today hadn't been any different. He'd woke up, made his coffee, did some work in his office, made lunch for you both, went back to his office with his portion, and finally retired to watch his favorite show. Usually he'd be laughing like crazy at all the vulgar and some dark jokes, shouting corrections at where the criminals messed up, but not tonight. He hadn't during last week's premier either. He just stared blankly, as if he was simply going through the motions. You wanted your husband back, not this replica. You sat down next to him, his eyes flicked to you as if you were a stranger, and that's what it felt like. He had been the love of your life, and suddenly you meant nothing to each other. Just strangers passing by, and boy, did it hurt. His eyes seemed to be unable to lock onto you, something that never happened. He challenged anyone with a single stare, he never looked away. It took away his power, all his control. He never looked away...

~His POV~
God, you are such an idiot! I tried to look at her, my wife, my meaning, my soul, my everything, but I couldn't. After what I had done... I didn't deserve her. She should've chose John. He never would've made this big of a mistake, he never would find himself hating himself in this manor, he never would've hurt h-
"James, we need to talk." Her voice was serious, hard. She knows. She hates you, and she knows. I could feel myself starting to panic. I had worked so hard to just lounge on the sofa, leaning into the soft cushion, just trying not to draw attention. It was a bit too late though. I couldn't look at her. I was unworthy of laying next to her, of holding her in my arms- and man did I miss that -but most of all, I was unworthy of having her.
"About?" You know what about! Jesus, she's going to go running to John. He'll welcome her with open arms. SHE KNOWS! She leaned out , trying to look me in the eyes. I suddenly noticed how lovely the cream carpet colour was... Absolutely stunning.
"Look at me." She ordered. Yep. This was it. My eyes shut, trying to momentarily block everything out and build the courage to look her in the eye. You can do this, Jim. No you can't! She'll hate you- she already does! She knows what you did! Stop. Just look at her. Don't panic. I just had to fight with myself NOW. Why not seven months ago? Damnit. When my eyes opened I was looking at her, expression stoic as possible. Her eyes. They would be the death of me, I swear. She would never mean to, but those e/c pools could dig straight into one's soul. They could kill a man. I should know.
"James, what's been up with you lately?" She was sincere. Holy crap. She doesn't know. God, how is that worse?! Do I tell her? No. She'll never forgive me, never let me see her ever again. You don't deserve either! Tell her, let her slap you, and let her go to someone she deserves! Oh, will you just SHUT UP!
"Everything's fine. Why'd you ask, y/n?" Her eyes narrowed at me. She couldn't deduce me, but she could tell when something wasn't right...
"That, for one. You haven't used my real name since I met you. Two, all you do is stare off into oblivion anymore. I miss you, James! And you're right here! Yet I miss what we were. I miss listening to you correct criminals, holding me too tight, and talking back!" She was pleading... No. No, love, not that, anything but that.
"You hate when I do all three of those things. You hate me talking back. You always tell me to let you go. You say it scares you when I get too excited about a murder. So, no. You don't. But is this snappy enough for you, darling?" I didn't mean to sound rude. I didn't mean to say darling as if it was an insult. As if she meant nothing. Hell, I didn't mean for that last sentence to exist! This is what happens when you empty the liquor bar. I expected her to be horrified at my sharp, threatening sound. Instead she looked... Hurt.
"Damn right it scared me. Damn right I hate not being able to feel half my body and feel like my ribs are going to break. Damn right I hate having to deal with an impudent narcissist treating everyone as if they were dirt on his shoe. But know what? That was YOU. And I love that you. I love the things that you scare me by doing. I love the way you always have to have the last word!" I could feel myself cracking, "I love feeling like there's no way in heaven or hell that'd you ever let me go, even if it is slightly painful!" Oh god. She's right. And it's selfish, so selfish. That's why I don't confess. I don't want to lose her... You're going to lose her if you don't do something right now! Don't do it! You don't des- shut it. I hadn't even realized my lips where on hers until my inner monologue had shut up. Took me even longer to register I was on top of her as I did so. Just play the part... Be what she wants you to be...