[ Of Moriarty's patience, perhaps, but more importantly the end of Sherlock's life. But he lives for the thrill and exists to be entertained, because without that to drive him, everything would be monotonously pointless.
The approach into his personal space has him on edge, fingertips drumming against his trousers. ]
Is it that difficult to picture? [ It shouldn't be. Why, just ask his brother. ] Your indulgence in habitual behaviour is almost imperceptible, par your penchant for disruption. But I perceive what most people don't, and can't.
[ The threat borders on the edge of being a flirtation, (or perhaps it's the other way around?) but Sherlock pays little mind to it. Just offers raised brows and a pointed look, then glances away, as if to denote his disinterest in the subject with a glance. ]
no subject
The approach into his personal space has him on edge, fingertips drumming against his trousers. ]
Is it that difficult to picture? [ It shouldn't be. Why, just ask his brother. ] Your indulgence in habitual behaviour is almost imperceptible, par your penchant for disruption. But I perceive what most people don't, and can't.
[ The threat borders on the edge of being a flirtation, (or perhaps it's the other way around?) but Sherlock pays little mind to it. Just offers raised brows and a pointed look, then glances away, as if to denote his disinterest in the subject with a glance. ]