Send me 'I do' for a starter of an arranged marriage between our muses.
Leather soles clicked softly against the floor as Jim paced back and forth, humming softly to himself to fill the silence. It wasn't even time yet for Sherlock to arrive, and yet Jim had been anxious for hours.
But really, wasn't meeting the person you were assigned to marry supposed to be at least a little nerve wracking? Especially when you weren't even sure if you wanted to be married at all, and you didn't know the person?
Jim couldn't simply back out though, it would be dishonourable and weak, and if there was anything James Moriarty wanted to avoid it was being weak.
Three sharp knocks made Jim pause in his pacing, crossing his arms behind his back and taking a deep breath. Putting up a calm facade, he stepped up to the door and opened it with a smile.
"Sherlock, yes? I'm James, but you're welcome to call me Jim. Please, do come in."