Moriarty's Musician

The Game is On, Part 3

Moriarty chuckled and took another gulp of whiskey while Annabelle glared back at him.

"What are you doing here?"

He slowly set his glass down on the side table and inclined his head. "For your information, this is my house, and I will go anywhere I want in it, including your bedroom, Annabelle, if I so choose."

Annabelle swallowed as she lowered her head, suddenly aware that she stood before him in nothing more than her light pyjama set. She quickly folded her arms across her chest. "Well, I–I told you before not to sneak up on me."

"Sneak up on you? Darlin', you were the one who entered my study. I haven't moved from this spot since you came in."

Annabelle chastised herself for being such an idiot. "Then why didn't you let me know you were here?"

Moriarty laughed. "And miss watching my little bird flit happily among the books?"

Annabelle's eyes ignited as she placed her hands on her hips. "I am not and never will be your little bird!"

Moriarty didn't respond. Instead, he stood up and walked towards her. As he came to stand in front of her, Annabelle crossed her arms across her chest again and glowered up at him. She could not let him intimidate her. She needed to be strong and keep focused.

Moriarty studied her upturned face as she defiantly met his eyes. How was it that even in such a vulnerable state, she could be so brave? Without a word, he knelt down by her feet and gathered the books, pausing momentarily at his own. Standing, he held the pile out to her. "I hope you enjoy the books, sweetheart, but if you're reading them to help you sleep, you may want to start with mine," he said with a half smile.

Annabelle's heart fluttered as she took the books from his hands and held them to her chest.

"Sleep well, darlin'."

Moriarty turned, took his glass off the table and walked to his desk. He withdrew a bottle of whiskey and poured the amber liquid into his glass. Annabelle quietly watched him put the bottle into the drawer and make his way to sit back in his chair.

Glancing up at her, Moriarty took a sip of his drink. "Is there anything else you need?"

She shifted the books in her arms and shook her head. Slowly, she walked to the door. Looking back, she saw him staring into the fire as he quietly swirled the liquid in his glass. Annabelle glanced down at his book on the top of her pile. She would never sleep now. Why did she always have to be so damn curious?

She walked back to the two wing chairs and leaned against the one facing his. Moriarty slowly lifted his eyes to hers, seeing her questions that begged to be asked. He smiled to himself. "Did you forget something?" He raised one eyebrow. "Another book, perhaps?"

Annabelle shook her head and bit her bottom lip. Moriarty watched her action and gripped his glass.

"You were a professor."

"Are you telling me or asking me?"

"Asking."

Moriarty leaned back in his chair. "Yes, I was."

Annabelle shifted the books. "A professor of astronomy?"

Moriarty inclined his head. "Mathematics."

Annabelle looked down at his book on her pile. She had so many questions. She pursed her lips. "Why are you still not teaching and... hypothesizing?"

He looked down at his glass. Annabelle watched him swirl the liquid until it almost tipped over the sides. Why was she still here? She should be safely back in her room by now. She took a deep breath, wondering if she was standing too close to the edge.