Seb awoke in his old room. Its grey paint now peeling, walls bare. It smelt of dust and...well , him; a concoction of soap, cologne and sweat. He smacked his lips, his mouth was dry. He'd fallen asleep on top of the covers. Seb wondered for a moment why he was in this room, but then he remembered and it felt as though the contents of his stomach had suddenly been turned into a whirlpool.
Jim.
Jim was back... He had also apologised. Strange. Seb yawned and pushed himself from the bed, pulling on the jeans that had been thrown haphazardly to the floor hours before. The man padded through to the kitchen, put water in the kettle and pressed the switch. Nothing.
He must've forgotten the electricity bill as well after all. Sighing, he fished in the pocket of his jeans for a flask he knew would be there. It always was, and he always kept it full. He might not remember the bills, but he could always recall the comfort of a strong drink.
It was 8 am. Never too early. Feeling he deserved it, he ignored his cold, un-drunk coffee from earlier that morning and took a swig of whisky. Almost half of the
Seb hadn't dreamt at all, first time he hadn't seen the face of his boss taunt him in his sleep for 2 years and 8 months. Now it was there to taunt him in real life. Or was it? Seb hadn't seen Jim at all, maybe . He could just have been another dream...
Although two things disproved this , one , he had woke up in his old bed...he never went in there anymore, and two, he had awoken in cold sweats, he had screamed, he had destroyed things, he had been hurt when Jim was dead.
A little angry sometimes, yes, but hurt more than anything. However, now, he wasn't sure what he felt.
He was either completely numb or mind-bendingly angry. He wasn't sure which, right now they felt so similar. But he guessed he would find out as he heard the door to his boss's room creak open and saw Jim, gun in hand, amble out with all the attitude and swagger of a man been wronged. A man in the right. Seb decided then that it was definitely anger he was feeling towards this short, self-centered, psychopathic bastard right now .
"What's for breakfast Seb?" he questioned, oh so casually.
Seb gritted his teeth, and cracked his neck and placed the flask back in his pocket.
" A lovely course of fuck all."
He reached behind him and picked up an empty plate off of the top and flung it at Jim like a frisbee.
"Enjoy, you knob."
The plate was shattered against the wall, missing it's target as Jim dodged it. He looked at the shattered peices of the plate that lay spread across the floor, some still spinning and rattling, and then rose an eyebrow at seb, shaking his head and tutting. Walking closer.
"You shouldn't have done that Seb." He was smirking, but that changed. His teeth were clamped together, he shook, his eyes full of anger, nostrils flared . He jammed the gun against Seb's head, the blow of that itself hurt Seb.
" YOU REALLY SHOULDN'T HAVE FUCKING DONE THAT YOU PATHETIC BASTARD!" He shouted through gritted teeth , his eyes wide open boring into Seb's , who stood unmoving, staring back, daring him.
Jim clicked off the safety, his hand shook , he pushed the gun further into Seb's head, his finger curled around the trigger. He breathing was heavy and ragged.
"Aren't you gonna try and talk me out of it Seb?"
Seb chuckled, and cocked his head slightly, "Now why would I need to do that, boss? "
Jim glared, and pulled the gun from Seb's head, a red mark, certainly a bruise in the future remaining.
Jim looked down at his feet, his breathing steadied, he uncleanched his jaw, he closed his eyes and blew air from his nose.
"Remember this Seb?" he said unexpectedly, and so quietly, that Seb didn't register what was happening until the gun was in Moriarty's mouth. He smirked around the gun and winked at the assassin.
Seb took a step closer and Jim's finger curled around the trigger. He stopped instantly and held up his hands ,
"Jim stop, put the gun down." His voice was steady, he was staying calm. He had to. The bastard had a gun in his mouth, it was not the time to panic.
Jim chuckled, muffled by the gun in his mouth. He tapped the fingers not on the trigger against the gun. Seb's breath quickened, he held out a hand to Jim, he wanted him to just stop.
That was it, Seb took it too far , he knew he shouldn't have tried to interfere , Seb's heart was in his throat as Jim pulled the trigger of the weapon between his beared teeth.
Click.
Empty. Gun.
YOU ARE READING
Tiger
Hayran Kurgu*post his last vow* Moriarty returns from the dead to his assassin Sebastian Moran. However things don't seem the same... Moriarty competes with his brain, but in his attempt to rid himself of his problems, his feelings, will he just cause torture...
