the king's crown | j. moriarty (18+)

twenty four

"COULD YOU tell me why you think it started?" The woman sat with one leg crossed over the other in her black suit, a pencil skirt reaching just below her knee and a clip board balanced on the material. One of her boney hands held the board in place, along with the sheets clipped on top of it. Her long thumb stuck up as it rested over the words she'd already scribbled down in the past minutes of their conversation, and Elizabeth sat opposite her, her fingers playing together. "Or when, maybe?"

"Hardly." He died. That's how.

"It's a very traumatic experience, when somebody you love-" Elizabeth flinched, it was so vivid that she had to uncross and re-cross her legs to make it look intended. But the woman saw all the same, and tensed her shoulders hoping they could ignore her uninvited words. "When somebody you know passes away. Especially when it's unexpected, do you agree?" Elizabeth looked up to the blonde and scanned over her features; wrinkles cluttered her forehead like they were drawn on in black marker pen and a pointed beak stuck out from her face. Almost like it was made for the cat-eyed glasses resting on the end of it. Elizabeth pulled air slowly through her teeth and pulled her eyes away from the woman's nose, rolling her lips together with a small shrug.

"Yes." The brunette mumbled, adjusting her cardigan while she pulled at her lip. Moving her fingers absently to twiddle with the black Peter Pan collar against the turquoise material of her top. "I do."

"You aren't really participating today, Elizabeth. I thought we decided last time that you would?" The woman looked over her glasses, a smile the brunette presumed was meant to be encouraging pulling at her thin lips. "Why did you decide to come today, may I ask? You've missed the majority of the appointments we've scheduled together" Elizabeth hummed carelessly, looking at the potted plant to the woman's left as she spoke. The room was scarce; a dark brown cabinet for files, a black sofa unused and then the white cushioned chairs they both sat on. Outlined in brown wooden beams as a modern twist on the bleak furniture. Elizabeth lifted her hand to see the armrest below and tilted her head, running her fingers in the open space between one piece of wood and the other; an empty wooden rectangle on either side of her.

"I-" Sebastian had sent her and after a large argument over her attendance, she finally gave in. Elizabeth allowed him to drag her here, for the third time in the past two months and she wasn't actually sure if it was for her or Sebastian Moran's peace of mind.

It was obvious that he was worried about her, she could see it in his face every time he cast eyes in her direction and Elizabeth despised it-it was almost worse than the pity she'd seen in his gaze the day they met her father. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, trying to find the effort to answer her question. Something that didn't consist of, 'honestly? I just lost a bet.' It didn't feel completely appropriate. Her lips parted, and a sound grazed her throat-but as it did, she was interrupted.

A voice devastatingly familiar popped into the air and her stomach turned upside down. One after another, these classes had made no change. This woman could not alter the fact a woman's mind was collapsing in on itself from the crushing strain on a broken heart, no matter what job title she adopted. They were no further since the first time Elizabeth sat in this chair, and Jim's voice had now travelled through the closed doors of her therapy session. Hesitantly, the hazel of her eyes nervously lifted upwards; trailing timidly to see a black suit behind the blonde sat in her fancy seat. He peered over her clipboard, his stare seeming to scrub away the marks she had been scribbling on the paper. As she watched his eyes read each word that she couldn't see, a tiny frown appeared before her and subconsciously, Elizabeth warmed at the sight of it. His face was perfect, and she caught herself smiling at the dead man stood two metres away. When he turned however, the warmth sizzled out completely; Elizabeth suddenly became very heavy hearted and swore to herself. Idiot. She hissed inwardly: he wasn't real. She always forgot.