Angelic Demon

Tomorrow

The past few days had left Amelia exceptionally jumpy; more than she had ever been in her life. To her father's request, she watched her language and even did minor chores without being asked. Bells no longer sounded in the middle of the night as the sleep deprived teenager made her nightly journey throughout the mansion in search of midnight snacks, despite the occasional nightmares and anxieties that plagued her tired mind at the earliest of hours. The entire dynamic of the household felt off, Moriarty's words hanging over his daughter's head like a brewing storm cloud. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. 

Even Jim himself began skipping meals and spending countless hours alone in his office, rarely looking up from his computer unless absolutely necessary. On the rare occasion the criminal was seen outside of his unusually cluttered workspace, Moriarty had actually begun to pay Amelia subtle compliments referring to whatever the girl had accomplished that day or other random things. But as expected by the teenager, each and every compliment was accompanied by at least two insults to maintain the rather uneven playing field. But Amelia really didn't mind, as she was grateful for even the slightest of praise from her father. 

Sebastian had also taken on extra shifts and nearly doubled the hours he worked on a daily basis. Jim pestered the sniper about his gradual weight lose, though so subtle it was nearly impossible to detect with a naked eye. 

What little free time the three had to spare was usually spent apart in completely separate regions of the house, the halls somehow growing significantly colder and lonelier. At one point, Amelia had managed to convince her father to watch a movie with her. And though Jim seemed somewhat open to the idea at first, he couldn't keep his attention away from the blinking phone at his side. 

Finally, Amelia had mustered the courage to confront the criminal about the strange behavior. But seeing as Moriarty was nowhere to be found and not looking to be bothered, the girl immediately ran to Seb instead. 

"Seb, what's wrong with Dad?" she asked innocently, giving the impression of a small child rather than a young adult. 

"It's nothing, Amelia. Don't worry about it." the Moran replied, ignoring the worried tone and urgency in the teenager's voice. "Just go back to work. Everything will be alright."

Unsatisfied with the sniper's answer, Amelia headed upstairs with an ache in her stomach and a ringing in her ears. Deciding to try her luck once more, the anxious girl grabbed a particular item from her room before quietly knocking on the heavy office door. But this time, with a different question buzzing in her head. 

"Not now darling, you have work to do." Jim stated from the other side of the door, already knowing who had even bothered to interrupt him.

"I finished my work for today." Amelia lied, looking down at her feet and hoping her father wouldn't notice her tell by only her voice. 

"Fine." Moriarty sighed as the girl had already stepped into the room, struggling to prevent the heavy door from slamming behind her. "Just make it quick."

Awkwardly approaching Jim's desk, Amelia slowly pulled out the knife she held behind her back. "What's this?" she asked politely with a sweet expression. 

Jim took the knife into his hands with an amused look as he ran his fingers over the familiar weapon. "This, is a very old, very valuable, and very delicate knife you shouldn't have thrown on the floor under your bed."

"But how did you know I-"

"I'm not an idiot, darling. I know about everything dumb little thing you do, sometimes before you even think of doing them. But I let you underestimate me because it just makes that hilarious, shocked look of disappointment so much better." For the first time in nearly a week, Amelia actually heard her father laugh. Sure it had been at her own embarrassment, but the tiny peek at his old, childish personality was refreshing. 

"Then...do you know what I'm gonna ask next?" Amelia wondered, scratching the back of her head and tangling her hand in the thick, smooth curls falling loosely at her shoulders. 

"Of course I do." he playfully sang, tapping his fingers on the desk. "But ask away. Go ahead. Humor me." 

Amelia spoke shyly, still holding her free arm behind her back. "Can I please have it...?" 

"Over my dead body." he chuckled, watching the child's hopeful face fall as he tucked the weapon away in a desk drawer. "Oh come on darling, don't look so sad." he teased, tilting his head to the side with a knowing look. "You know you're relatively spoiled as it is. After all, I buy you all those nice clothes that you never wear, and you're the only reason the cabinets are full of junk food and snacks. Now, is that all?" Though his expression had softened, the atmosphere was still a little too cold for Amelia's liking. 

"Yeah..." the girl breathed, already turning towards the door to leave. 

"Good. And Amelia, I'm giving you a job tomorrow morning. That is, if you've made up your mind." Jim's tone returned to its usual tone, matching the coldness of his dark, shifting eyes. 

"W-what is it?" the girl stuttered, visibly shaking at the uncertainty surrounding her current situation, slowly crushing her usual confidence.

"It's our key to winning the game." A wide grin spread across Jim's face as he stood up from his seat and walked around his desk towards the girl. "It's also your last chance to prove your worth. But no worries, I know you won't disappoint me. Since we both know you don't have much of a choice..." the Irishman was uncharacteristically happy at the mention of his newest scheme. His eyes were bright with pure insanity, a hand eagerly brushing through Amelia's ebony hair as she nervously watched his  every move. 

"Tomorrow, I might actually be proud of you." 

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Author's Note:

Hello friends! I hope everyone is doing well :) I'm sorry that this chapter is mainly a filler, but I hope you'll understand. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

-Orion