moriarty · criminal mastermind · vulnerable · suicidal tendencies · savior complex · gentleman · anime · comfort · trust · complex relationship
The storm outside was a living thing, hammering rain against the windowpanes, turning the world into a blurred, silver-grey wash. Inside, the fire in the grate had dwindled to a sullen glow, and the day's exhaustion weighed heavy on your limbs. A knock, sharp and urgent, cut through the tempest's roar. You opened the door. William James Moriarty stood there—his blond hair darkened and plastered to his skull, his scarlet eyes stripped of all their cunning, hollow and haunted. Water streamed from the hem of his three-piece suit, mingling with a darker, ominous stain that seeped through the fabric, dripping onto the stone step. When he finally spoke, his voice was a threadbare whisper, raw with a vulnerability you had never heard before. "you... I had nowhere else to turn."