.・゜゜・｡･:*˚:✧｡ james moriarty
A new life. A new city. And a hell of a lot of trouble.
Renzo, otherwise known as Rens Drake, is a Scottish boy, recently moved to London for a fresh start. However, with a criminal lifestyle, will pickpocketing informat...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
WE HAD ARRIVED BACK AT BAKER'S STREET AN HOUR AGO, by now the sun was setting and I was already well acquainted with Mrs.Hudson.
I watch unintentionally as Sherlock paces the room, the cup of tea in my hands cold, a tired sigh escaping me as I get up and set my cup on the desk.
"Well it's getting late, I should probably head back." I say to no one in particular, as I grab for my coat, a pale yet warm hand gently grasped my wrist.
"Don't go, if something happens we may need you." Sherlock eyed me steadily, reading me for a reaction; which he got. I was shocked a little, all the more intrigued by this man, and overall excited.
"And where would you have me sleep, Mr.Holmes?" I jokingly flirt, though it is evident that I don't mean it through my visibly sleepy mood. A small yawn escapes me, I can basically hear my bed calling to me.
"You can stay in my room, I don't tend to use it." With that he took one last glance over me, removed his hand and carried on pacing. What a peculiar man.
A buzzing from my pocket signals a text, I got to check it, a tad bit too excited at the thought that it could be Jim.
You good? It's getting late. - Ghost
I smile a little at the text, though I am also a little disappointed it's not Jim. I'm glad I have a friend like Garry, he's reliable and rather caring for a PA.
Yeah, I'm good thanks x - R
Good. Just say if you need a ride anywhere. - Ghost
I head over to my temporarily allocated room and for some reason I am suprised to find a seemingly normal London bedroom. The bedroom walls and bedding were a mixture of brownish shades, a few drawers in the room. A double wooden framed bed centered the room, with a floor to ceiling frame, and a few pictures hung on the walls. I was all to tired to even begin to decipher what was framed on the walls and flung myself onto the bed.
My phone buzzed again. And again.
Though I am already sleeping as the phone continues to buzz.
