it's a good look on you. you should get covered in blood more often. [ irene adler @ moriarty ] // @theirmadness
it isn’t often that he allows others to see him in a state of disarray. to him, the perfection of his appearance is what lends to the air of mysteriousness that is james moriarty, the spider. how can his subordinates be expected to stay under his thumb if they’ve seen the chink in his armour and now harbour the incorrect idea that he can be infallible?
there, however, one exception to this rule, and that will always be blood. there is something about it that calls to him, despite its close adjacency to filth, and its ability to harbour disease. he finds that nothing will unsettle a person more than a perfectly put together exterior that has been marred by a streak or a spatter of bright red. a dichotomy of the proper and the improper, of the clean and the foul. and he enjoys witnessing the unseating of one’s carefully constructed sense of what is right and wrong.
so when he steps into his office, a perfect line of blood spray covering his left cheek and cascading downwards onto his previously clean white shirt, he doesn’t expect the compliment to be given to him. although that being said, whatever idle companionship they’ve managed to strike up between, he’s beginning to grow fond of her. well… perhaps fond isn’t the correct word, but she doesn’t make him want to claw her eyes out with his own fingernails, so that’s something.
‘ careful, darling. ’ his tone is lightly chiding, a sharp tease more than anything else as his feet carry him to his desk, where a clean shirt awaits him in one of the deep, wooden drawers. ‘ flirting with me won’t end well for either of us. ’
