Dancing with the Devil // Jim Moriarty

•Chapter 5: And they were Roommates•

"Are you hungry?" Once inside his flat, Moriarty unbuttoned his suit and went to unknot the tie around his neck next. "I normally don't cook so feel free to consider yourself special, darling."

Slipping out of my boots, I followed the consultant criminal into his kitchen. "Starving actually. But I'd like to shower first."

Grabbing some ingredients from the refrigerator, Moriarty placed them on the countertop before he turned around to meet my gaze. Briefly, he let his eyes wander over my attire and nodded, creasing his forehead in dissatisfaction. The grip on the bag of noodles in his hand tightened a little. "Good idea. I took the liberty and stocked up the wardrobe. I'm sure you'll love it. After all, everything was personally selected by me."

"Thanks. But you know, I could have just brought my own clothes," I said nonchalantly.

"Oh I know but I like spoiling my own first live-in." He winked at me and went back to preparing our meal, humming to himself.

When I entered his bedroom, I realized that I had definitely seen it far too much already. I hoped he didn't expect me to share it with him now. I'd much rather turn myself in. Surely, his flat looked big enough to have at least one other bedroom, likely even multiple ones.

My feet carried me towards the bathroom where I was greeted by a huge waterfall shower, a big bathtub in the middle of the room, multiple extremely fluffy looking towels and a neatly folded lilac bathrobe. Moriarty had truly prepared everything. There was a great selection of woman's shampoo and shower gel, even conditioner and skin care products. The room was warm and cozy thanks to the underfloor heating and soft beige and light brown tones the walls were coated in.

Maybe staying here wouldn't be so bad after all. No bathroom sharing with John and Sherlock. A huge plus.

Peeling the clothes of my body was accompanied by quiet winces when they scratched against the various tiny cuts on my skin. There was a big bruise already forming on my back from where I was thrown against the car's door. Moving too much hurt but I had hoped a hot shower would at least soothe some of the pain. I threw the dirty clothes into the laundry basket since the rubbish bin in the bathroom was too small to fit them. I would care about that later.

The warm water did indeed soothe the pain in my muscles and bones, washing away all of the grime and blood simultaneously. For a few minutes, I simply stood underneath the shower head and let the water rain on my body as steam slowly filled up the whole room. I choose a shampoo and shower gel randomly, smiling at the wintery macadamia and vanilla smell on my skin and hair.

I had lost track of time but at one point, I found myself back in the bedroom, the fluffy bathrobe wrapped around my body and my wet hair already combed and ready to air dry. I was too lazy to use the hairdryer. Another pleasant surprise was the dressing table which had been stocked up with plenty high-end make-up products, lotions and even hair accessories. Moriarty really made it incredibly difficult to dislike my temporary living situation. I almost feared ever going back to 221B Baker Street. Just kidding. Of course. Maybe?

And was that my phone there? Sebastian must have retrieved it from the car wreck. I made a mental note to thank him the next time I would get to see him again.

None of the cuts on my arms and legs needed medical attention, so I quickly applied some body lotion before I went towards the big wardrobe occupying a whole wall of the room. Behind the multiple doors was a variety of different clothing items, all exactly tailored to my liking. Skirts, tights, sweatshirts and cardigans. Even some dresses fit for colder weather, lots of bras and panties and more cozy clothes like leggings and hoodies. Absolutely nothing was missing. And it was almost a carbon copy of my own wardrobe. Not exactly in size but more so in style.