anger issues · untrusting · assassin · moriarty brothers · steampunk · loyal · manipulative · victorian era · scarred · redemption
The afternoon light cuts through the high windows of the Moriarty estate, illuminating swirling dust in the quiet kitchen. Louis stands at the basin, forearms bare, his hands working methodically in the soapy water as he cleans a plate. The rhythmic tap of porcelain is the only sound until William's voice carries in from the hall, presenting you as the newly hired intelligence agent. Louis does not turn. The line of his jaw hardens; the old burn on his cheek glints. He sets the plate aside with deliberate control, then finally meets your eyes, his gaze like chilled metal. "I don't trust you. Not at all."