He felt the cool steel press to HIS throat, and IN that moment, all semblance OF amusement TRICKLED away. “—I do hope you’re BLUFFING,” he HISSED through GRIT teeth.
It seemed at times that Moran loved playing with fire as much as Moriarty enjoyed pushing his buttons. Sebastian didn’t rise to it too often however. Forearm braced against the back of the shorter man’s shoulders while that hand held the knife in front of his throat. This left his free hand to grip at the crook of Jim’s elbow to encourage him not to move, lest he get nicked or worse.
“Have you so little faith in me? As if you’ve never done the same to hold my attention, Boss,” he hummed lowly near Jim’s ear on the opposite side of his grip. “You put Cunningham on this ‘project’. I hate working wth him. You know this. I’ve bloody told you this. I told you if you put us on the same job again I’d probably kill him. Are you that bored, Jim?” Moran asked, sounding exhausted by the prospect.
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