moriartyluver - Tumblr blog

moriartyluver · 3 months ago

Text

FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER XXXI

"(NAME)..."

He whispered, her name a prayer on his lips. "(Name), I'm sorry.."

His eyelashes fluttered, wincing at the pain in his left eye. He stared up at the ceiling. Where on earth was he? Why wasn't he dead? Where was (Name)?

"It's been a while, your grace," The brunette spoke as her friend climbed into the carriage with her.

"It's not been that long," she muttered, voice strained. "And you can still call me by my name.."

Josephine managed to choke out a laugh. "It's been a few months since your last visit, (Name). Have you found a worthy suitor perhaps? Is that what's keeping you from us?"

"You know how picky I am," (name) scoffed, glancing out the carriage window. "How is everyone?"

"They're coping." She stated. "I know you're still processing everything, losing William, losing the baby, your father's illness...but I really think it would be better if you visited more frequently. The team needs you.." Josephine explained. "I mean, we're grateful that you're more in touch than you used to be, after William died."

"I was busy with battles." (Name) sighed, glancing down at her feet. Since her father had taken ill and retired, she often found herself working alongside her mother to serve (home country), even if she was fighting against the British.

She felt shame, anger, grief...frankly so many emotions she couldn't tell which was which. Which is why she had decided on not feeling any of them.

"Besides, you know I can't do that.." she mumbled. "I'm the grand duchess now, I have responsibilities.. and the tension between (home country) and Britain is even worse than it once was because of me, even after the ceasefire." She explained, fiddling with her maroon coloured sleeves. "I must clean up my mess, so to speak.."

Josephine could only hum and nod. "I know.." After a few moments of awkward silence, she spoke up again. "If it isn't a man involved, then how else are you faring?"

"Who's to say there isn't a man?" (Name) spoke.

"So there is?" Josephine echoed, a slight smirk on her lips.

"I didn't say there wasn't."

"Well," She hummed again. "Is he from here or (home country) or another place you've been since becoming grand duchess?"

(Name) leaned her head against the curtain clad window of the carriage. "Partially..I believe his mother was from France , his father from (Home Country), an earl, close friends with my father."

"Mm..have you..?" Josephine trailed off, giving her old friend a knowing look.

"Occasionally..it's mostly physical.." It was true. She couldn't handle anything more after her unfortunate marriage. "I knew him when we were younger, he used to be friends with my brother, despite being much younger than him. He worked with my mother for a while whilst I was still married too. You must've met him, when we went to (home country) together when my father was sick the first time."

"Was he the one who was much too friendly with you?"

"Yes, that one." She nodded. "As long as I can continue the (last name) family line it doesn't matter."

"It's been over two years, (Name)," Josephine reminded her. "You've not allowed yourself to grieve neither your husband nor child, not even once..The wounds are still fresh. I don't even think I've seen you wear black once since that day."

She had a point. (Name) knew she did. Naturally, she missed William every day, but..

"Why would I ever want to love you?"

"No point in grieving a man I never loved." She stated coldly. "I wouldn't have been a good mother anyways.."

"Yes you would," Josephine insisted. "You practically raised me, taught me how to read, how to write..I am who I am because of you."

(Name) glanced over at the girl briefly. "And I'm sorry..." she whispered, feeling as thought Josephine's life would've been much better without all the senseless murder and politics (Name) brought her into.

Josephine tried to brush the comment off, not wanting to start an argument the moment she had seen her dearest (Name) after many months. "So..how did you meet him, this mystery man?"

"I already told you. He worked with my mother, and I already knew him beforehand" (name) said, furrowing her eyebrows.

"You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't."

Josephine sighed, her voice dropping to a whisper. "How longer have you been sleeping with him...?"

(Name) chewed the inside of her cheek. Should she tell the truth..?

"A few years.."

"A few years? And you didn't tell me?" Josephine asked. "How long are talking?"

"Maybe three or four.." She stated, waiting for a reaction.

Josephine narrowed her greyish blue eyes, pausing for a moment. "Three or four..? That was before William—"

"I know."

"You had an affair?" Josephine asked, unintentionally sounding more judgemental than she intended.

"So what if I did?" (Name) retorted, a frown on her tired face. "Don't sound so surprised."

"I'm not—" She cut herself off, eyes widening. "I mean, not that I'm not surprised or..I'm just..I didn't mean for it to sound rude but did William not know of this? At least before he died.."

'Great going, Josephine. So much for avoiding any awkward topics.' She thought to herself.

"It was only during that five months we were away, before moving to Durham." (Name) explained, avoiding Josephine's gaze, her fingers fidgeting with her gloves. "And that was before William and I.." her face flushed at the memory. "But when I went back after he died, we reconnected..long story, really."

"Is it reconnecting if you're doing no talking?"

"Josephine!" (Name) scolded. "We talk, I'll have you know."

"So..are you going to marry him?" Josephine asked.

(Name) shrugged. "If he proposed, I wouldn't say no."

"So that's a yes?"

"I suppose."

"Your grace! How lovely to see you again! Everything has been well maintained in your absence."

With the inheritance of the title, came the Grand Duchess' British estate, which (name) barely stated in prior to William's passing. She often would visit to make sure everything was doing well, or store extra supplies there when necessary, but considering it was in the countryside, a couple of hours away from London, she rarely visited in her youth.

"Thank you," she told the maid coldly. "Please have dinner sent to my room. I have important matters to attend to."

The middle aged woman nodded, rushing off to pass on the message immediately.

(Name) eventually made her way to her bedroom, falling onto the bed dramatically with a sigh. She wouldn't even be staying here, had it been the only place of residence left untouched by William.

Well, he had stated with her once, on the night of their honeymoon, but that was in a guest room down the hall, which she hadn't opened, nor allowed to be cleaned since then.

"The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?"

(Name) sat up, facing the glass door to the balcony. In rising moonlight, she saw a shirtless figure with his back facing her, glancing over his shoulder with glassy scarlet eyes. She looked at him, mouth agape as he smiled bitterly. She blinked. He was gone.

'Asshole. Can't even leave me alone after his death..' she thought to herself, tears brimming in her eyes.

She groaned, rubbing at her eyes. Her mind had grown the habit of playing tricks on her ever since, driving her into a state of borderline madness. Any time she would be reminded of her deceased husband, he would appear like an apparition, haunting her each chance he had.

She sat up, grasping onto her bedpost to stabilise herself whilst she walked over to the adjourning office, reaching out to grab a packet of cigarettes, taking one into her mouth and lighting it. She sat at the desk, looking for paper and a pen to write with. (Name) inhaled the smoke, still not used to the sensation of the habit she only recently adopted.

'Dear..' she thought to herself as the pen touched the paper, moving in smooth strokes. She was attempting to write a letter to her current lover but she couldn't stop thinking of him.

She coughed, choking on the smoke filling her lungs. (Name) spat the cigarette out, reaching out for a glass of water on her desk as she tried to calm down, spilling down her chin and onto the paper, ruining the letter.

"Fuck." She cursed under her breath, a much less harmful habit she had grown to have. (Name) took the paper, scrunching it into a jagged ball and tossed it to the side, pulling out a crisp piece of parchment to write on, still smoking her cigarette.

She wrote the letter as intended, replying to her lover's letter she had received prior to her arrival in England, intending to send it off by morning. Occasionally she would refer to him with the wrong name, resulting in her having to start over again and again. Eventually she had finished writing, falling asleep against the cold surface of her desk out of exhaustion.

Once she awoke, she glanced around. She wasn't in her office, hell, she wasn't even in England. She was in (home country), lying against her desk in her bedroom. (Name) glanced to the side, looking at her reflection whilst the only light came from a small candle a few inches away from her. It was a wonder her hair hadn't caught on fire.

(Name) stood, inspecting herself in the mirror. She was so much more youthful, wearing a dress William had gifted her, claiming it complimented her eyes. There were dark circles under her eyes but not nearly as dark as they were now..her face had a little more life to it, chubbier even. She hadn't realised she'd lost so much weight over the years, and it seemed her new habit of chain-smoking didn't help. A knock came to the door.

She stood, opening the wooden double doors, enough to see who it was. Adrién Montazeri. Her mother's most recent political protege. She had seen him occasionally, offering a polite smile, polite conversation etcetera, mainly because he was acquainted with her older brother before his passing over a decade ago. He was handsome, (name) had to give him that, a sharp face and soft brown eyes, paired with his dirty blond hair. In fact, he's grown into quite the man since (Name) had last seen him before leaving for England when she was sixteen. How old was he back then? Nineteen?

"What is it? Is there something wrong?" She heard herself ask, as if she was merely spectating one of the worst mistakes of her life.

"Everything's fine. I was just dropping off some papers," He stated with a smile, nudging the doors wider. "I just decided to stop by..I heard a few noises and I assumed you were awake."

"You assumed correctly." She hummed, pushing the door further open. He glanced over her frame, admiring her beauty, even whilst tired.

"Don't tell me you're working at this hour..." Adrién sighed, glancing at her desk. "I suppose the Grand Duke's illness has put some pressure on you."

"Nothing I can't handle." She stated curtly, grabbing a robe to cover herself up. "Besides, if I don't do it, who will? My mother?"

The blond nodded, acknowledging her point. "Fair enough...although I must say, you work yourself much too hard, my lady."

"No need for the formalities," she spoke again, listening, watching as this all played out. "We are friends, are we not?"

"Friends." He hummed. Both of them knew there was chemistry between them. "As your friend, I must say, politics at midnight? It's enough to drive anyone mad."

"I'm not just anyone, dear Adrién. "

"No, of course not." He said, almost in awe of her.

"What are you really doing here? " she asked after a moment, approaching him once more.

"I assume you mean to ask what I'm doing, imposing on a married woman of honour like this?" He asked in return, leaning into her.

(Name) shrugged. Her marriage really meant nothing to her, at least back then anyways. "I suppose."

She swallowed, her eyes darting to the half covered window. It was rather late. Perhaps everyone was asleep by now. She shut her eyes tightly, wishing to wake up, hoping he'd leave and she wouldn't make the mistake which later cost William his life. She opened her eyes again.

He was still here.

"I'm married." She repeated more firmly this time, furrowing her eyebrows.

"You're right..you're a woman of great honour..I'm sorry for bothering you," he said, eyes softening. "I just can't seem to want to return to my place of residence.." he paused, giving (name) a look she would only ever see with the likes of William. "Tell me, when was the last time you've had a break?"

"Does it matter?" She raised a brow, backing away. This wasn't appropriate behaviour for a married woman. "Frankly, I should send you away." She whispered, unsure if she would be able to control herself after remaining abstinent since she had been engaged to William.

"Then say it." Adrien raised a brow, not entirely convinced. He noticed her backing away, following forward until her legs hit the bed. He would stop if she wanted him to, but it was very clear by her body language that she couldn't help but want this, want him.

"You're far too much like a man I know."

He let out a chuckle at that, seating her comfortably on the bed, grabbing each thigh gently, albeit seductively, and spread them apart to slot himself into. His hands slid along her thighs, making her shiver, thumbs stroking upwards in teasing arcs as he pushed them further apart for him.

'No,' she thought frantically, forced to watch her mistakes over and over again. 'No, no — stop. Get up. This is wrong. You're William's wi—'

But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. She wanted this. Or at least, the version of her in this memory did.

He hovered over her, gently pushing her body against the mattress. Her breath caught in her throat, heat radiating between them as Adrien leaned in to kiss her.

She should've stopped him.

But he looked at her the way she almost wished William would. Treated her like an equal, desiring her..if she could just pretend for a moment..

"You shouldn't," (Name) heard herself say again.

Something flickered in his eyes. He paused, but decided against leaving her and instead pressed his lips to hers. They were soft, gentle almost. She recalled the time at her wedding when William kissed her and she could've sworn it was the most pleasant moment she'd ever had with a man.

It was devastating — slow and deep. Her fingers curled into the sheets, trying to resist the urge to touch him. He kissed like he was claiming her, his hands knew how to ignite her body with arousal.

She wanted to pull away.

And yet, she kissed him back.

She couldn't do anything but watch her past self submit to his touch, melting into every kiss as if she was not betraying her husband. She told herself he didn't love her, that their marriage didn't mean anything. And yet, her conscience screamed William's name as her lips parted for Adrién's tongue.

She wanted this.

"Where on earth am I?" A certain blond muttered to himself. He looked around, feeling a sharp pain in his left eye. Wincing, he got up, trying to ignore the ache throughout his body. Eventually, after putting on some clothes he found lying around, he made his way to the rooftop, sitting on a bench amongst fresh laundry, flowing in the air.

He had lived. Whilst the weather may have been lovely, this wasn't heaven, not that he would end up there anyways. And despite the pain he felt physically, this wasn't hell either.

He was alive.

His thoughts, ever since he awoke, became so full of (Name). Was she still alive? Did she forgive him after receiving his letter? He doubted that, but he had some hope.

A selfish part of him desired nothing more than to find her, have her back on his arms where she belonged. The more reasonable part of him decided he had to let her live. She may not even forgive him, and god knows what wounds he might open up for her. It'd be better to let her move on.

What about their son? Did he look more like her, or did he take after his father? If he did, could she bring herself to love him even if she was forced to remember William each time she looked at him? He would have been nearly three years old by now.

The selfish part of him spoke again. Even if (name) didn't love him, even if she had moved on, he wanted to see their son. As an orphan, he wasn't sure he'd be a good father, in fact he was almost certain of it. (Name) will be a good mother. He had seen her interact with children on multiple occasions, and despite her violent behaviour with him especially, she was kind, nurturing...much like the ideal for any mother.

He had sat there for what seemed like hours, longing for his wife, until he felt a dip in the bench.

"Thank you, Liam."

He looked to his feet, taking a deep breath, feeling his lungs fill with fresh air. Sherlock smiled beside him, glad his friend was alive.

"I should be the one thanking you, Sherly."

Sherlock raised a brow.

"It's as you said, 'death is no atonement'.." William continued. "I just wanted to avert my eyes from my sins..it's because of you that I can truly feel that way, from the bottom of my heart. But...it's blank."

"I'd never once thought about it..that my story would have a continuation.." He spoke, voice on the verge of cracking, whether it be due to his condition or something else, he couldn't tell. "It's so unseemly of me, Sherly..I don't know what I should do from here on." William paused, correcting himself. "No..to be precise, I know what I must do. But as for the right way to go about carrying out that duty...right now I don't have the answer. All this time, I've never been interested in myself as a person..and so when it came to myself, all of a sudden, I didn't know what to do..the only other person who..." He bit his lip, his mind returning to her once more. "That day when you saved me, my world had changed..and now, everything feels so dear to me.."

He paused, taking in the bright sky, looking over the city as the wind blew through his blond hair.

"This world, truly is beautiful, isn't it?"

Sherlock felt his lips twitch upwards in a smile, standing up and gazing at the sky. He held up his thumb and finger on either hand, making a rectangle in the air. "Ain't a blank canvas just spiffin'? You can paint whatever you like..if it's an answer you've arrived at after a struggle, then no matter what it is..no matter who it is..it'll be the right one."

William parted his lips to speak, biting back his tongue to prevent himself breaking into tears.

"So, struggle on, William.." Sherlock said, crouching in front of his friend. "You've taken your first steps towards living. And if you were able to take that step..then I'm sure you can paint any kind of future."

"Do you think she'll still want me?"

Sherlock gave William a knowing look. "...I think that's up to her to decide."

#—false lovers 💋#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #liam moriarty #moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty

26 notes · View notes