Sebastian L. Moran, 38, Chief of Staff for J. Moriarty
mr-trevor replied to your post: nickkenning replied to your post: Arf. Arf….
I doubt it- she signs her messages Ms. Dog.
really? i thought she included ‘bitch of satan’ in her moniker.
zai-chata replied to your post: ✤
[unsent sms]: you’re welcome for that skirt.
jesuschristdoyouknowwhatthatdidtome?
thank god for my portable roleplaying device.
i mean my phone.
jiminwestwood replied to your post: Do you call jim daddy in bed?
Eww. Don’t worry; I’d never ask. X JM
thanks da’.
“I want this,” Langdale heard himself say. He let himself be pulled towards Sebastian but he didn’t lift his eyes, didn’t dare to look. He had to give himself some chance. “You know I fucking want it. You know I do. But of course it’s to do with him. Everything is, with you. Why else would you be here?”
If he’d been trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice, the attempt had failed.
What the fuck did this boy want from him? He was getting angrier by the second, but Sebastian kept one hand on Langdale’s ribcage, the other came up to Lang’s neck and then hair pulling back lightly so that this entire head tilted back so Sebastian could look Langdale in the eyes.
“I’m here because I’m here.” Sebastian said, his voice low again. His gaze flitted over Langdale’s face, his eyes and nose and hairline, eyes moving down Pike’s jaw and neck as Sebastian swallowed before staring at him again, daring him to make a move.
