She’s practically paler than a ghost and still trying to organize the files in James Moriarty ‘s office, sneezing very loudly. She’s not sick, you are.

I have a cold!!! Someone has infected me!

//Sorry for my quietness. Been at a convention since Friday. Travelling home tomorrow, so normal service will resume 🖤

(He’s going to be overly dramatic as the man flu slowly kills him off)

——

Sat in his office, laptop open, head leant on the desk asleep and surrounded by snotty tissues.

He mumbles in Morans arms that he’s dying a slow painful death and that this is the end. Which is then proceeded by coughing. Jim is a drama queen when he’s sick. He doesn’t want to leave his work, but bed is the right decision.

He clings on to his lover as he’s carried to up to bed “Well it feels like I’m dying” he utters into Morans shoulder. “You’ll stay while I rest, yes?”

She best stay away from his expensive liquor…

Leans on the doorframe watching. “You’re being insufferable”

There’s a slight twitch in his face. No one touches his things. “Stop. Come here, and I’ll give you a damn kiss” Bloody woman.

He can’t help but dramatically roll his eyes before striding into the room towards her. “Leave the cabinet alone” He grabs her and pulls her into his personal space, his arms winding around her waist pulling her close. “Stop misbehaving”