her back over?” Jim chuckled into the receiver.
“Oh no,” his voice was steady as he bounded his way through the winding halls, glancing in each room to find you. “I really expect a much bigger applause. Something like..explosions?”
“You know me too well, deary. I do love a good show. And apparently, so does your pretty little girlfriend.” You felt no need to correct him, keeping your recently bleeding lips shut.
Sherlock paused his steps, hearing the shuffling in the room. You were behind that door. “(r/n) was always the one to be extravagant, yes.”
Moriarty hung up and called out to the intruder. “Come on in. I'm sure Miss (l/n) is very excited to see you.” Not a few seconds had passed before the tall, handsome man stepped in, phone back in his pocket. Your eyes lit up, while his grew darker. Your (h/l) (h/c) locks stuck to your face with sweat and blood, lips cracked, and most of your lower body bound together with ropes and chains. The job seemed sloppily done. But then, his eyes caught sight of the flashing light. He's been in this situation before. Sherlock didn't like it last time, either.
“You're surrounded. Do you really think you're going to get out of here?” Start simple.