Sherlock's brows lowered as his anger was starting to spin out of control. "Get out," He growled through clenched teeth. His nose started to wrinkle in disgust. Moriarty stared at him, a small smile in his eyes. "You best get rid of her, Sherlock, if you wish to go back to the way you use to be... Unfeeling... Straight forward... No distractions... Focused" Sherlock took a few steps forward, his fists tightening. Moriarty's face contorted into one of a look of fear for a split second as he franticly took a few large steps back. Quickly gaining his composure he glared at Sherlock. "I will win this battle, Sherlock... I always win."
Sherlock sprung forward before Moriarty could react. He grabbed the other mans perfectly tailored shirt. Shoving him against the wall, he pressed his face close to Moriarty's. "You didn't win the day you shot yourself... That was you... Giving up... Losing," Sherlock hissed. Fist still wrapped in Moriarty's shirt he shoved him towards the door of the flat before shoving him out and down the stairs. Moriarty toppled down them, letting out a cry of pain when his wrist smacked against the edge of one of the stairs, bone cracking as he rolled on it, breaking his wrist. He got up without a moments hesitation when he his the ground floor, glaring up at Sherlock. "You'll regret that" He growled before storming out of the flat. Sherlock glared down the stairs before turning back, going into the living room again.