#edrabble

[moriartyandco]

{ t h e o d o r e } -- -- "ELAINE!" Theodore couldn't remember a time when he'd screamed any louder. The girl in front of him fell into the ground, but luckily he could catch her before she hit the ground. "Why did you--oh my God! What do I do, Elly? Please tell me what do I do. I--I don't... I can't lose you, El! Why did you do that?!"

Urgh. No :c

[moriartyandco]

White. [Elaine & Theodore.]

Feelings ahead. Ye 'ave been warned.

If there was one color Elaine despised as a wall decoration, it was white. Especially in a combination with pastel green but the white stayed her most hated color. The artificial light that reflected on it gave her headaches and Elaine wasn't a girl you wanted to be around when she was in pain. The worst thing was that ninety percent of the people she saw in this place were wearing white as well. She could feel the rage boiling inside herself as she watched yet another stuck-up doctor pass by. White was to Elaine Moriarty what red was to a bull. Slowly, her fingers tapped onto the wooden arm rest of her chair. The beat was monotone, threatening. She looked like a mob boss, sitting there in her tailored black suit with high-waist skirt and killer heels, tapping away on her chair. The only thing that was missing from the image was an angry cat on her lap.

Eventually, after three hours of tedious waiting, she was approached by a young nurse. A girl that still smiled at the patients and their family. "Elaine Moriarty?" she asked carefully, her hands folded in front of her. "Doctor Rushman has allowed your visit. If you'd be so kind to follow me." Elaine gave the young woman an angry glare before pushing herself out of her chair and pulling her skirt straight. "About time." she hissed as she grabbed her fiery red clutch from the seat. It'd taken her quite the amount of pounds to convince the man of her importance to the patient. She might not be related by blood, she was the closest to family he had. And probably the only one who cared.

Her heels clicked dangerously on the tile floor as she followed the nurse down a never-ending hallway towards the high security department of the hospital. It was silly to put him there, he was anything but dangerous to himself or his surroundings. Still, until this point in time, she hadn't succeeded in getting him out of there. It'd be the first time since his forced admittance four months ago that she'd see him. Even her influence hadn't been enough to get in. Her heart skipped a beat the very moment the nurse announced that they'd arrived. The door before her was one of heavy steel, with only a small barred window and a valve for food. With three keys, the nurse opened the door to let Elaine inside. "You have one hour." she said before motioning that Elaine could enter. The young girl swallowed, took a deep breath and walked through the door.

Inside the cell, the light was dimmed but she could see a small steel table that was built into the wall and a steel chair locked to it. Besides that, there was a thing that had to function as a toilet and sink. But the most prominent thing in the room, was the heavy metal bed right in front of her. What she saw there made her freeze for a moment, unable to realize what she saw. He was wearing nothing but a hospital dress, his wrists and ankles restrained with heavy bands. They'd even put a restrain around his waist to keep him from moving. Two teary brown eyes stared at her from the bed. Her sigh became blurred by the tears that welled in her eyes and she covered her mouth with her hand in shock. "Jesus Christ, Theo." she gasped with a shaky voice. Hesitantly she walked up to the bed. There, she noticed that he wasn't sedated, to her relief. If this was the state they'd kept him in for four months, she understood why she'd been hearing reports of aggression and violence. She put her purse on the bedside table and sat down next to him. An immense feeling of guilt washed over her, even when she knew that she'd been working her ass off to get him out again. Unfortunately, MI6 had meddled with the business and things were getting nowhere fast. Slowly she brought her trembling hand to meet his cheek but he pulled away. "Four months." His voice sounded raspy from screaming and the tears. Elaine's head dropped to her chest and she sighed softly. "I know." she replied. "They wouldn't let me see you because we're not family. I couldn't do anything, Mycroft Holmes prevented any attempt at helping you or seeing you." She looked up at him again, a silent tear traveling down her cheek and her lower lip trembling just slightly.

She couldn't bear it any longer. Without saying another word, she began to untie him. First the restraint around his waist, then his wrists and eventually his ankles. However, he didn't sit up. He just looked at her, his blonde locks falling in front of his eyes as he followed her every move. Then, hesitantly, his fingers searched for hers. Immediately Elaine let her hand slip into his, happy to feel his skin against hers again. "I-I'm sorry, sweetheart." Theodore whispered. Elaine knew why he was apologizing. He was apologizing for his illness, for the boy he'd beaten to death, for his arrest. Elaine replied with a simple "Stop." There was no reason for him to apologize. What had happened wasn't his fault, nothing of it. As she looked at him, she could see the fear in his eyes. She recognized the look on his face and knew the thoughts that were raging through his mind. He probably thought that she was scared of him now, that she hated him, that she pitied him, that she'd leave him. She'd refute all that with three simple words: "I love you." She leaned down, pressing a tender kiss on Theodore's lips before resting her forehead against his. "I love you, Theo. No matter what. And I promise I'll get you out of here." The next moment, Theodore had wrapped his arms tightly around her fragile body and had pulled her down so she lay next to him. She kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs onto the bed while nuzzling her face in his chest. They still have forty-five minutes. Time enough to make him forget where they were and why they were there. As they closed their eyes, both Elaine and Theodore imagined the same thing. Home. A place both unfortunate youngsters had become to each other.

[moriartyandco]

Drabble about how Xavier was shot by protecting Elaine.. To have to include the last words of Xavier. "I love you, my beautiful loving girl."

Elaine always feared for her life. It was an occupational hazard but she had never expected an actual ambush like this. Not when she was supposed to be out on a romantic date with her boyfriend. They'd just had dinner in a nice little restaurant, after which they'd been strolling through central London, talking about anything and everything that came to their minds. Elaine had her arm linked with Xavier's, her head laying lightly on his shoulder and a laugh regularly escaping her lips. This is how life had to be. Until a dark SUV slowed down beside them. A window rolled down and a gun appeared. Xavier jumped in front of the younger girl, his arms gripping tightly around her fragile body. A single shot sounded before the car sped off, leaving the couple alone in the dark street. "X-Xavier?" Elaine's voice sounded soft, hesitant. The older man still held her in his arms but didn't say a thing. Slowly his head slipped down beside hers to land on her shoulder before his knees gave in and he sunk to the ground. Elaine could catch him just in time so he wouldn't hurt himself while falling. It was only when she pulled her hands from his back, that she noticed the warm blood sticking to her fingers. Her blue eyes grew big as her heart dropped. "No, no!" she said with a shaky voice before placing her arm underneath his head and supporting his body. Silent tears fell down her cheeks as she looked down at him. "You're going to be fine." she whispered, her hands already searching for her phone. But Xavier stopped her, his strong hand taking hold of her wrist. A faint smile tugged at the man's lips but Elaine shook her head, unable to accept what was happening. "I'm not letting you die, Xavier." she said between her tears, her fingers trembling as they ran through his dark hair. Softly she pulled his body closer so his head rested in her lap. "You're safe. That's all that matters." Again Elaine shook her head as she tried to keep breathing. "P-please don't leave me, Xav. Please. I need you." she begged him with a broken voice, her hand repeatedly caressing his cheeks and lips. "Please." Xavier looked up at her, the strength of his usually so dark eyes fading rapidly. "I love you, my beautiful loving girl." he whispered with the last piece of life he had left. Slowly Elaine leaned over him, her lips touching his tenderly before she answered: "I love you too, my handsome brave man." Not a second later, she felt his last breath float away beside her lips. The sound that left Elaine's lips next was one of pure agony as she held Xavier's dead body close to her own. She cried like she had never cried before. It was the first time Elaine mourned someone's death and it had broken her.

[moriartyandco]

Elaine, what would you do if Xavier was murdered?

Bad news always comes at an inconvenient time. Like, for example, when you are in a conversation with a possible new client. Elaine looked up from her desk when the young boy entered without even knocking. “Can’t you see I’m busy!?” she snapped at him, her blue eyes flickering in anger. The boy trembled, shooting the older man that was across Elaine’s desk an apologizing smile. “I-I have important news for you.” he mumbled carefully, his eyes directed at the ground. Elaine sighed. Everything was important according to the person sending the message. However, whatever the boy had to say really didn’t interest the young girl at this moment. “Tell me later. I doubt it is as important as my meeting.” She was already turning herself back to the client when the boy uttered: “It is about Xavier Smith, miss.” Now, Elaine’s attention had been drawn. She frowned slightly, her head slightly tilted as her gaze fell on the boy again. “What is so important he can’t tell me himself?” she asked curiously as she leaned back into her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. Again, the boy looked at the client, more hesitant this time as he seemed to search for his words. “Speak up!” Elaine insisted, now rising from her chair. “Mister Smith and his family have been attacked, miss Moriarty. They’re all…dead.”

The words hit Elaine in the face as if it was an actual punch to her nose. She gasped for air and her gaze dropped to the mahogany wood of the desk. With a calm, controlled voice she dismissed the client from her office and told him they would meet again on a later date. As soon as the door fell shut behind him, she sunk into her chair, her brown hair falling in front of her now pale face. “Tell me. All of it.” she demanded, her voice shaky. “What happened?” So the boy began telling her the facts. A group of heavily armed men had broken into the flat Xavier shared with his friends and slaughtered them all one by one. Even the little child had been killed like an animal. Xavier’s last action before his death was an attempt at calling Elaine. Nobody would ever know why. Was it to call for help or to say goodbye? Elaine’s eyes fell shut as she silently began sobbing. The worst thing of it all was that Elaine should’ve been in that flat too. They were supposed to meet but the meeting with the client had been urgent. The attack had been meant for her, she realized hours later as she received a disturbing text message asking if she could live with the guilt. 

Elaine paid for the funerals of all her lost friends and lover. She was the only one to come. As she stood there, staring at the dark brown coffin in the pit, her eyes fixed on the golden plate saying Xavier Caleb Smith, she couldn’t have felt more devastated. The red roses fell and landed in the soft rain onto the wood of the coffin. “I love you, you beautiful man. I’m sorry for what I have done to you.” It was the last time Elaine Moriarty was ever seen.

[moriartyandco]

To: Oliver Appleby.

I don't know how to start this letter so I'm just going to skip past greetings. I don't even know how to address you anymore. Are you my boyfriend? Are you my ex? I don't know anymore. It seems like I don't know anything anymore. All I know is that this wasn't how we were supposed to end. We weren't even supposed to end. God, that sounds so childish and stupid. Just forget that. I can't think straight. My head's pounding because I've cried so much, I can't see because of the tears and my hands are shaking so hard I can barely write. Still, I have a lot to tell you and I don't trust my voice to do so.

I don't hate you. I could never hate you. I didn't mean it when I said I hated you. I love you. I love you so much it scares me sometimes. You're the first guy to ever look at me like I'm truly beautiful. You're the first guy to stay with me after the sex and watch Disney movies with me and allow me to walk around in nothing but one of your shirts in the morning. I fell in love with you that very afternoon we spent at your flat, the second day we knew each other. Seeing you, being with you, nothing has ever made me happier. It's like an angel had come down from Heaven to make me happy. Another cheesy line but I don't care anymore. It's the truth. After all those filthy old men who fucked me for a few pounds, you came and took my breath away.

I know what you think right now. Filthy old men? There's so much you don't know about me and wish I'd never have to tell you. I know you were surprised to see a sixteen year-old who had the skills of a trained prostitute. The thing is, I was. I lived with my mother, a hooker, until I was thirteen. The last years of her life, I followed in her footsteps. I think I was barely twelve when I gave my first blowjob. Nearly every night she'd send men up to my room. They'd undress me with their dirty fat fingers, spread my legs and take me as I laid there crying. I saw every corner of the room, over and over again. I was a whore, a slut, a toy. I felt so filthy and unworthy every single time they left my room. I still do. I can still feel their hands on my body, their nasty breaths in my neck. It makes my stomach turn. You have no idea of how many boiling hot showers I took to get the feeling away but it'd always stay. I've never been more than sex, to anyone. Until I met you. We were just sex at first but that day you told me I wasn't the only one who had developed feelings...you have no idea how happy you made me. You actually like me for more than the things I could to with my lips and my cunt. I actually was the happiest girl on earth on that moment.

I can't say how much I loved being around you, being your girlfriend. It was as if a dream came true. I was your princess and I loved my prince. But the memories came back. I realized I wouldn't ever be good enough for you. A guy like you deserves a girl who hasn't already been taken by a bunch of old men. You deserve a sweet girl who doesn't need to slip herself sleeping pills to get through the nightmares. A girl who isn't ashamed of what she can do. I'm so sorry, for all the misery I've caused you. My father, my brother who's probably attacking you right now, the dealing with a sixteen year-old crazy fangirl. I'm sorry for it all. 

I think it's time for me to stop now. My tears are smudging the ink. I don't know if you'll ever even read this letter but please, Olly, don't ever forget that I genuinely love you. You're the guy that could've fixed me but I was too broken to be fixed. I'm sorry.

With everlasting love even though I promised you I wouldn't be that kind of girlfriend, Elaine Moriarty.

[moriartyandco]

☱ { all muses, pretty please c: }

Jim.Log 114: 24 April 2013Theodore Fletcher is seeing my daughter. Asked her to Tumblr Prom as well. No confirmation on sexual intercourse. Punishment pending.

Lucas.I’m going to have a decent talk with that blondie. Better take my gun in case of emergency. You never know what that fucker’s up to.

Elaine.Dear Lily,I went shopping for a prom dress today. I’ve never felt more awkward. Like I said before, I really doubt it if was the right choice to say yes to him. It feels like I’m using him and a relationship really shouldn’t feel like that, I’m aware of that. Still, I can’t get myself to tell him the truth. I’m fucked up.