MorMor One Shots

Dear Diary - Moran's Entry

I sincerely recommend listening to 'I Will Take You Home' by Ed Sheeran as you read this. I cried. Enjoy :) - Beth

.o.O.o.

It is only occasionally that I am jostled with the heavy realisation I am in love with James Moriarty.

I am sometimes forgetful of the fact; his constant whining, the joy he finds in irritating me, and the mainly heartless antics he performs on a daily basis causing the thought to flit from my absent mind.

However now, as I seat myself down on the sofa, my back pressed against against the arm with a leg stretched over, and dangling from the edge of the cushion, I write each thought that crosses my mind in the small notebook I discovered among my aged memories only 5 days previous.

I write how my gaze rests upon his peaceful, sleeping form, my heart weighed with the familiar love I have for him, only disturbed by the soft purrs of his snores.

I feel myself become light, as though I could float away as the wind carries me, however, the heavy love I have for him grounds me. Keeps me present on this Earth and grateful for the life I am blessed with. And, with a tentative hand, abandoning the rushed scribbling of pen across paper, my hand reaches forward to tangle my fingers in the soft, dark waves that fall across his forehead, and I smile as I watch him unconsciously press up into my touch, a small, contented smile lighting his face in the midst of his slumber, and my hand moves to stroke down his cheek, cupping the sharp line of his jaw and the familiar scratch of his stubble against the palm of my hand.

I am reminded of when we kiss. The soft, warm press of his lips against mine as his stubble scratches my upper lip, the warmth of his body pressed slight against mine in our most intimate moments.

I feel my throat close up as I am hit with this, just how much I am in love with this man, and the extraordinary lengths I would go to to witness his lighting smile again. I am hit with how I would surely die for him, as I have risked my life so many times before just to know that he could grace the Earth with his sweeping and encompassing presence for one more day, and I am hit with how much I have changed since that first day we met.

The dangerous introduction of a Criminal and a professional Sniper, malicious tension between us before softening, until we caved to our temptations, hesitantly acknowledging the blooming feelings that came with our extended company, and it has come to this, acknowledging the constricting of my throat, tears welling in my eyes as I am thrown with my own feelings, reducing myself to a shocked state.

However, I can't help but feel the man my gaze rests upon is infinitely deserving of more than just my tears. I would place my blood and sweat into my dedication for him, place my life in his hands, and if it was James himself who pressed the cold barrel of a gun to my temple, and pulled the trigger, then so be it.

He's waking now, and I watch with a fond gaze how his brow furrows at the harsh light intruding his vision, and how his dark lashes dance across his cheeks as he blinks repeatedly, squinting and attempting to cease the stinging of his eyes. And when he finally wakes enough, he looks to me, and smiles.

I feel a stab in my chest, a fluttering in my stomach and, momentarily, I am dizzy at the sight of him. Hair mussed over his forehead, tangled from sleep and the intruding of my fingers stroking through it, those dark, piercing eyes peering fondly at me, and the soft, pink skin of his lips stretched up into a lazy smile. His gaze is half lidded, weighed down from the fatigue of his recent slumber, and his lips part as he goes to speak, a soft, low murmur, gruff, again the product of his fatigue.

"Mornin', Bastian"

I shiver, a jolt of what could be considered electricity trickling down my spine at his voice. The soft, sweet lilt of his Irish accent serenading me, and I close my eyes to take these feelings in, a small smile playing at my lips as i mumble in return, quiet.

"Good morning, Jim"

I open my eyes as I feel him shift next to me, my mind assuming he is standing to leave, however, as I feel the press of his back against my chest, I smile in soft contentment, and I am unable to refrain my self from burying my nose in his soft hair, inhaling before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head and wrapping my arms around his waist, allowing the contours of his body to fall into place with mine, and I sigh.

He spots my notebook, and shifts to look up at me as he asks what it is, and, the soft atmosphere sating me, I allow him to see, relaxing back into the sofa as he runs his gaze across the words I had scribbled down as he slept. After a moment, he would look up at me, and my breath would hitch at the expression on his face. He had never looked at me like that before, and it moved me as I saw the beginning of tears form in his eyes, and he whispered a cracked

'I love you'