Okay guys. This is sort of a sequel to a thing I'm writing for my best friend Tatiana. That one is a full blown story, but this is just a one shot. But, as you haven't read that, you may be a little bit lost. Here's some pointers-
1. Arthur has a little sister named Lizzie
2. Ariadne's parents died in a plane crash right after she graduated high school
3. Cobb stayed in CA with his kids; Arthur, Ariadne, and Eames are still working through dreams and have no desire to stop.
(:
As I rolled over, every muscle in my body screamed. "Wonderful," I groaned. I didn't even realize you could be sore after dream-sharing. I pulled the needle out of my arm and leaned back. I really, really hated those stupid lawn chairs. We'd been in this warehouse for how long and we couldn't buy a damn couch? I was pretty sure that I'd be quite a lot less dizzy if I was actually asleep on something remotely comfortable.
Eames stretched his arms out. His hair was strikingly disheveled. I felt a hand on my wrist and Eames rolled his eyes. "You look pale, Ariadne," Arthur's voice came to my ear. He took the needle out of my hand and put in back in the trunk.
"Maybe I wouldn't if you would get some freaking new furniture. It's not like your apartment doesn't have new furniture every month." I pulled my wrist away and stubbornly stood up. I made it about three feet until I got too nauseous. Spotting a chair, I began to sit down. Right beforehand, my head filled with an excruciatingly loud buzz.
Next thing I knew, I was in Eames's arms, my head inches away from the floor. He and Arthur were staring at me. "Where-," I started, before quickly stopping. Moving made me sick. It was now that I realized Arthur's fingers were intertwined with mine. "Where's the chair?" I finally managed.
Eames cracked a smile. "You missed it, love. You were so close. Lucky I was there to save you."
I tried to smile back, but Arthur was doing the antithesis. He dropped my hand and grabbed his phone, furiously typing. "Have you ever felt that way after entering a dream?" He typed more, not looking up. I closed my eyes, ignoring him. There was a sharp tug on my arm. "Ariadne, this is serious. I need to know why this happened."
"Arthur…" Eames started, but I pushed him away. I just wasn't in the mood.
"Could it, just maybe, be because you were just picking apart my brain for the past five hours?" I brushed the temple of my forehead with my hand. "There's only so much I can take, Arthur. And you just had to push it."
He dismissed my comment. "You were under for ten hours for Fischer. This was half that time. You shouldn't feel any more compromised." He reached for my hand again but this time I didn't let him. My eyes thinned.
"Maybe, if you, possibly thought about something other than yourself," I spat, "you'd realize that with Fischer, it wasn't about me. It was about him." My headache was growing. "We were attacking his mind. This time, you were attacking mine. The circumstances are different."
He looked up from his phone. "I didn't realize that you had such a problem." There was a snap as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket. "I'm sorry that I forced you to do this for us. It's not like you offered or anything."
"I'm not saying that I didn't offer, Arthur!" I planted my hands on the ground and pushed up, away from Eames. A rush came to my head as its contents left. Taking a deep breath, my balance waivered, causing me to stumble. Eames put a hand on my shoulder. I probably should have been more grateful for it, seeing as if he hadn't, I'd have been back on the floor again. Arthur just stood, watching. "I was all for it, and you know it. But I told you I wanted to stop, and you wouldn't. You need to think of something or someone other than yourself."
For the first time since meeting him, Arthur threw his hands in the air, completely annoyed. "You were the one who volunteered, so Eames and I would be better prepared. I asked if you were sure, you said absolutely. Yet, you keep acting like I'm completely apathetic and uncaring."
"Egotistical was more of the vibe I was going for."
The room chilled instantaneously. Eames's grip on my arm lessened.
A million emotions played upon Arthur's face. Anger, surprise, maybe some resentment. But mostly, there was something I couldn't quite decipher. It was as if he had put a complete block on that emotion, making it impossible for anyone but himself to know what it was. "You think I'm the egotistical one?" His emotions contorted, this time anger coming up to base. "Me? Really, Ariadne? Out of our freaking relationship, I'm the uncaring jerk?"
Eames arm dropped. "I think I should be leaving."
"Are you trying to say that I don't care?" I asked. I felt Eames retreat as his hand dropped from my arm, but I didn't care. Arthur was seriously implying that I was the one with the problem?
"I'll leave." It was a whisper from Eames, but Arthur caught it.
"Stay." His eyes bore into Eames's until he turned to me. I couldn't tell if his face softened or hardened. "Ariadne. I left my family. My life. To be here, with you."
I sighed. "Don't give me that crap, Arthur. You and I both know that you would have come here with or without me. Your pull was the job, not me. Even if I hadn't moved here, you would have. Because here, you and Eames have work. Work comes first."
"You know that's not true."
This wasn't getting me anywhere. Arthur just got me so angry. I didn't know how to respond or to act. I didn't want to put up with this. "Do you even know what today is…?"
He stared at me. "How is this important, at all?"
"Do we not live in the city of romance?"
He then made a noise that closely resembled a growl. "Ariadne! What is your point?"
"My point," I started, hoping I wouldn't cry. ", is that you would know what today was if you weren't always so focused on the job."
He looked frustrated, which in turn frustrated me, because he looked so damn attractive when he was frustrated. He stood across from me with his hands in his pockets, completely exasperated. His complexion was paler than usual, and I knew it was from the major work we had been going through. The stress I felt from it was just as strong for him, but he took it in a different way. Instead of resting, he worked even more. As much as I wanted to feel bad for him, I couldn't. His head was too far in the clouds for me to reach to bring him back down. If work wasn't ahead of me, then how could he forget something like this?
Eames sighed and sat down at the chair I had tried to sit in. Arthur took a step towards me. He held his hand out towards mine. A semi- forced smile fell on his face. I shook my head. "I realized what day it is." I looked down. "Ari." Being as impatient as he is, he grabbed my hand and pulled me against him. "Today?"
I decided I was being irrational. At least he remembered now, right? "Today?" I asked back.
"Today. Today is Tuesday."
The smiled slipped from my face. If it was Eames, I'd figure he was just joking with me. But Arthur's sense of humor wasn't all that developed. I tried to play it off. "Tuesday?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"Yeah! It's pizza night. My buy, right?" He grinned as if he was incredibly clever. I pushed him away.
"No. Not pizza night." I turned. After all I did for his birthday and he couldn't remember mine? It's on Valentine's day for crying out loud.
"Ari?"
I ran. Across the long, wide room. I hit the door without looking back. "Ari!" I heard once more before the door slammed against the wall.
Omniscient.
Arthur ran his hands through his hair. "What the hell is her problem?" He collapsed into the lawn chair. "First she calls me selfish and then she flips out about it being Tuesday? Seriously? I don't understand women." His forehead creased.
"Mate, I think you're the one who messed up this time. Not Ariadne."
Arthur's eyes flashed with anger. "Oh, not you, too. I should have expected you would have sided with her. You're delusional."
Eames sighed. He sat on Ariadne's lawn chair, next to Arthur's. His suit was unusually clean and tidy. "Arthur, do you even think that may you focus just a little bit too much on work?"
Arthur was beginning to get aggravated. He didn't understand the problem in trying to find a way to get the job done quickly and efficiently. Ariadne was always talking about finding more work and pushing the limits of dreams. In actuality, he was giving her what she wanted, and trying his hardest to get it right. While he knew he and Eames weren't…the best of pals, he figured that Eames could use a little bit more sense. All Arthur was simply doing was what Ariadne asked.
"No, as a matter of fact, I don't, Eames." Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure where you two are getting this information. I do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done."
Eames leaned back in his chair. "It's not that simple, love. Tell me what you did for your birthday."
Clenching his fists, Arthur answered, "What is with all of your gratuitous questions?"
"Just answer it," Eames said, sounding tired.
Arthur sighed and looked up, trying to remember exactly. "When I woke up, Ariadne was sitting in my room, reading a book. She had literally broken into my apartment at six in the morning. She was wearing one of my hats, an old fedora from when I was in college." He realized was we over sharing and turned to Eames, who was raising his eyebrows.
"Right. Well, that's all lovely and dandy, but what did Ariadne do for you?"
Understanding that arguing was futile, Arthur proceeded. "We went out for breakfast. She said she had a surprise…and that surprise was Lizzie."
Eames nodded. "Did Ariadne bring you her?"
Arthur practically growled. "Yes. She sent my ten year old sister from New York to Paris, France and woke up at one AM to pick her up from the airport. She knew that I'd always had the best birthdays after Elizabeth was born." His eyes were full of nostalgia. This had been one of his top birthdays by far. The way Lizzie's face lit up when he hugged her and how well she and Ariadne interacted.
"So," Eames said, cutting the memory off, "You're saying that Ariadne did a lot for your birthday?"
"Clearly," Arthur muttered.
Eames sighed and brought out his phone. He handed it over to his opponent, watching his expression. Arthur, exasperated to the point of no return, took it from him. "Yes?" he practically growled. Eames tapped the right hand corner, where the date was clearly illuminated it. "February…" Arthur started, "…the fourteenth."
"Ay, mate. You forgot your own girlfriend's birthday. It's only on the biggest holiday of the year for women."
Arthur slumped against his chair. "I forgot. I forgot Ariadne's birthday and Valentine's Day. I'm such an idiot. But…she never mentioned it. Ever."
Eames flashed a sympathetic smile. "That's the thing with the female race in general. They never say what they want, and if they do, it comes out as a demand. If I were you, I'd be glad you got the quieter type."
He stood up and walked over to the brief case, closing it up carefully. Arthur stared at his shoes aimlessly. Would it really have been so hard to just tell me it was her birthday? He thought. It wasn't that he didn't care, nor that he hadn't planned anything for her birthday, he had just lost track of the date. He knew her birthday- it was circled on his calendar. But he had been so busy with everything for work that he hadn't looked at his calendar since the new year began.
And Valentine's Day? He'd thought that Ariadne of all people in the world would have seen the pure commercialism brought from such a superfluous holiday, even more so with it being on her birthday. "Eames," he said.
Eames looked over from the table that they placed the brief cases on. He raised his eyebrows.
"Do we even know that Ariadne likes Valentine's Day?" he asked.
He laughed. "She's female. It doesn't matter how many times they deny it, how ridiculous they think it is, all women want at least a 'Happy Valentine's Day' from their man, mate. "
"Then why didn't she just say so?" Arthur stood back up, ready to call her.
"Because that would be too easy. But I wouldn't call her." Eames shot Arthur a warning look. He begrudgingly placed his phone back in his pocket. "You need to go to her house."
"And do what? Apologizing won't help."
"It doesn't matter if it doesn't help, you have to apologize. But you two lovebirds also need to address the communication issues in your relationship. I know you seem to think that since you often share dreams that all secrets are revealed- but that's not how it works."
Arthur shifted to the other leg. Was his and Ariadne's relationship that easy to decipher? He was hoping that it was purely because Eames spent copious amounts of time with the two of them. "How do you know all this, Eames? Your relationships consist of one night stands and broken hearts. I've never seen you have a steady girlfriend."
Eames rolled his eyes. "Like I said, love, not all secrets are revealed in dream sharing, as much as you seem to think so." With that, he patted Arthur's back and said, "Now go. Talk to Ariadne."
Ariadne.
I leaned against my bed frame. A pile of mail was sitting next to me, mostly consisting of bills I hadn't gotten around to paying. But the top was a letter from California. I smiled as I picked it up. There was something about the way a birthday card smelled that made it impossible to wait to open it. I ripped it open, careful to keep the return address intact. The card was a vibrant purple that had white script across. I opened it to see messy scrawl all over the card. I ran my fingers over it, suddenly missing the closest thing to an older brother I had ever had.
Dear Ariadne-
Happy Birthday! I'm hoping this gets to you on time, but if it doesn't, my sentiments are still the same. We miss you all here in the states, but I understand the reason you stayed. Phillipa is always asking when she is going to see you again. She and James really appreciated the Christmas gifts you and Arthur sent.
We really need to keep each other updated. I know we're all busy, but I'm always interested in what you're doing. The last time we spoke, Eames said you were furthering research, pushing the limits. I'm proud of you, but please; don't let it take over your life.
I'm getting long winded and running out of space on this small card, but I wanted to wish you a happy birthday and happy Valentine's Day. I'm sure you and Arthur are doing something special.
Love, Dom.
A wave of sadness washed over me. I miss Dom more than I had expected I ever would. The short time the four of us were together, we'd become a family. It made me so happy to know that I wasn't the only one who felt that way, but it just made me miss him and the states even more.
I read over the card again. 'She and James really appreciated the gifts you and Arthur sent'. I knew that really translated into him appreciating the gifts, but he, like Arthur, couldn't express that much emotion in one sitting.
I knew he meant well by warning me not to let dreams over take my life…but life wasn't the same without the dreams. Being able to create things that would take weeks, months, and maybe years in the real world was too incredible to pass up. It didn't take over my life, but I couldn't let it not be a part of it.
What hit me the most was his last line. If Cobb thought Arthur and I would be together on my birthday, his very best friend, then why weren't we? Why didn't Arthur remember my birthday?
Our relationship had becoming more and more stressed lately. It was put on the back burner more often than not. I knew it wasn't intentional on either of our parts. I shouldn't have even brought that up when I blew up at him. We both kept ignoring all the little problems, finding work or research more important than attending to fixing our qualms.
Sometimes, I had the distinct feeling that he didn't care if we worked out. That hurt more than the fighting. If he didn't care that we were falling apart, how would we mend us back together? I wanted to take some sort of vacation, get away from the stress. Eames had said it was a great idea, but I knew Arthur would never go for it. He had to 'work'.
I sighed and began to stifle through the other mail. Bill. Bill. Bill. Junk. Bill. Birthday coupons from various stores. I shrugged and threw them back in the draw of my bureau and got up. I stretched, my shirt lifting above my belly button as I did. I decided that Arthur or not, I was going to have a good birthday. I went to my closet and pulled out a black dress that cut off right above my knees. I had bought it to wear for a New Year's Eve party that I didn't get to go to because Arthur decided at last minute that we had to see how tall of a building I could create in the dream world. I glared at the dress for a moment. I was going to wear it this time. I threw off my sweater and jeans from the day, leaving them haphazardly across the floor. Stepping into my dress, I brought it up to my chest. I tucked the sides under my shoulders. I didn't have the patience to zip it up right then.
I pulled my hair out of the ponytail it had been in all day as I walked to the bathroom. Reaching into the depths of my cabinet under the sink, I grasped the curling iron I rarely used. Hooking it up, I looked in the mirror. I looked tired. I, of all people, looked tired. I pulled out my make up bag as well and decided to throw on some eyeliner while waiting for the curling iron to heat up.
Leaning toward the mirror I opened my eyes as wide they could, delicately slipping eyeliner across the bottom lids. I closed my eyes to let it set. As I did, I felt a tug on my dress. The zipper slid snuggly up my body. My eyes shot open. "Arthur," I said, seeing his reflection in the mirror. I turned around to see his curious expression. I bit my lip, at a loss for words. The curler beeped, signaling that it was thoroughly hot. I ignored it.
"You looked like you needed help," he said, clearly uncomfortable. My eyes searched his face, trying to find an answer. I had never felt so empty around him. Generally my thoughts were running a hundred miles a minute when I was with him, but right now all I could think about was the deteriorating love around us.
"I did not need help. I needed…" I stopped. I didn't know what to say. I could always say this thing that would put people in their place. But I couldn't with Arthur. He slowly held out his arms. I shook my head. "Arthur, we both know that this is just," I paused. Finding no better word, "breaking."
His dark eyes darkened. "No, Ariadne, they're not. You're overreacting. I know that this matters, believe me, I do. But it doesn't mean that we're not okay. We are."
I shook my head again, tears coming to my eyes. "It's not just this. Things haven't been good for a while. You don't understand. I just don't know if-."
"Listen to me, right now," he said, cutting me off. He grabbed my shoulders. "Every couple fights. Everyone fights."
I began to cry. I cursed myself for it. "Arthur…"
"What, baby?" he implored, moving his hands down to mine.
He never called me any sort of pet name other than Ari unless it was serious. I leaned back, into the mirror and frowned. "You don't want to hear it." He tilted his head to the side and rolled his eyes. I took a deep breath. "You don't care if we succeed or fail. Our relationship could be in shambles, and you wouldn't even blink an eye. I feel like everything you do is for work."
Arthur's eyes softened. "Ari, do you really think that?"
"Yes." That was it. Short and simple.
He pushed me back against the mirror. "Don't say that. I know that I can be a stoic. I know it bugs you. I hear you and Eames talking believe me, I do. But you have to understand, I can't change immediately. I love you, Ariadne." He paused as if he expected me to say something. When I didn't, he frowned. "You say I would have moved to Paris if you hadn't? You're wrong. I would have followed you, Ari. You are my number one. And always will be. We've been over this. I didn't understand why Mal was always appearing in Cobb's dreams. I didn't know what love was. I couldn't bear to lose you like he lost her. Remember when we started dating? You were scared we would end up like them, so completely and utterly in love that we would spend eternity in limbo. Where's that Ariadne, who was so sure that we were stupidly enraptured in each other?"
I was at a loss for words. I wanted to give in to him, right then and there. Everything he said was true. But that didn't mean that he didn't miss anything. "I suppose that she left when you stopped showing any sort of emotion towards her. What happened to that Arthur? Who called me all the time? Who gave me butterflies by just saying my name? I want him back."
I pushed him back and got down from the sink. I turned back to the sink and picked up the curling iron. I pulled the hair tight and twirled the iron to my face. I watched Arthur's face wearily in the mirror. The hidden emotion was back on his face.
Fights with Arthur aggravated me more than the reason we were fighting. We never got anywhere with it. He ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the ceiling.
"You say I don't understand, and I accept that. Maybe I don't. But you don't either. For someone who has such a keen eye for everything else, you seem to never grasp the way I feel."
I focused on my hair, letting it fall gracefully onto my shoulder. I toyed with it, spinning it around my finger. Arthur sighed and took the curler out of my other hand. Dropping the curl, I moved my hand to the sink. Deep breath, I told myself. My boyfriend grasped my left shoulder and placed his chin on the right. "Closing me out won't help. Communication is key."
I snorted. I'm not sure where he heard that, but he'd never thought communication was the end all for all our problems before. Granted, he was probably right, but that wasn't a concept he had thought of on his own. "I've already told you how I feel, Arthur. I don't like being put second, all the time."
"I don't mean to put you second." He stood up straight and started rubbing my bare shoulders. Gently, he kissed me on the cheek. Turning me around, his eyes raked over my body.
"But you still do," I murmured
"Don't you see that I do it for you?" He was getting angry. I had seen him angry before, and it had been directed at me, but not since we started dating.
"How is it for me, exactly?"
Arthur stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down. "You said you wanted it. You said you wanted to find more and better ways to work." I could tell he wanted this to be over, and I did too.
"That doesn't mean that you have work all the time," I said, starting to smile. "You know, you're amazing."
"You're not angry anymore?"
I smiled and shook my head. "Arthur Petrelli, I love you. You worked yourself to death, because you thought that was what I wanted." I pulled his lips against mine and kissed him. And he kissed me back. Lifting me away from the sink, he pulled me even closer against him. Being in his arms felt so right. No matter how many problems we may have, Arthur just proved to me that we'd make it through them. I'd honestly never loved anyone like him. "But," I said, pulling away. He still held me. "Don't ever do that again. No matter how much research I say I want, please don't let it come between us, okay? I wouldn't ever want you to work that hard."
Arthur smiled. I knew his aberrational loquaciousness would be soon once again be gone and he'd back to his normal laconic self. "Alright."
"Promise?" I prompted.
His smile spread across his face. "Promise. And I'm really sorry that I forgot your birthday. And Valentine's Day."
I let out a laugh. "I completely forgot that that's what this whole thing was about." He let out a laugh.
"Happy Birthday, beautiful," he said. He pushed my hair back and kissed me again. Right after the kiss crossed the 'this is only appropriate in the bedroom' line, someone coughed. I pulled away from Arthur so fast I thought I may have whiplash. Eames was smirking in the doorway.
I tried to get down from Arthur's arms, but he held me still. He looked slightly amused. "Hello Eames…darling."
The blush was spreading across my face, but I still smiled. Arthur let me slide down, and Eames was still smirking. He dismissed Arthur. "Happy birthday, Ariadne!" he said, his accent doubling over. He held out his arms. I rushed over to him and threw my arms around his neck. He smelled like red wine, but that didn't mean he had been drinking. I'm pretty sure he was born smelling like that.
Laughing, he kissed the top of my head. "Thank you," I whispered in my ear, knowing he understood that I meant more than the greeting. The rough material of his sleeve rubbed against my back.
"Any time, love," he said.
Eames was just as much as an older brother as Cobbs was to me. He protected me, made fun of my boyfriend, and I could talk to him about anything and anyone. I knew deep down that he and Arthur actually cared about each other, though they'd never admit it.
"Well," Arthur said. I looked back at him and grinned. Beckoning him over, I took a step back from Eames, keeping one arm around him. Arthur glared at me in disbelief. I nodded and he sighed, but walked over. The moment he got close enough for me to touch, I grabbed his shirt and made him come to Eames and I. "Ariadne…" I laughed, bringing him even closer.
"You two," I started. "You are the best ever. Honestly the only thing that could- Oh!" I broke away and ran back into my room, tripping over a shoe that had been at the foot of my bed since who knows when.
Eames sauntered in, with Arthur right behind. Arthur collapsed on my bed. "I'm going to jump!"
"Eames, no!" Arthur yelled, holding his arms up to no avail. Eames jumped, but at the last second moved so he wouldn't hit him.
I threw the drawer open. Taking out the card from California, I shook my head. "Here I thought I spent all my time with grown men, not thirteen year olds." Arthur looked back and me and smiled. As I leaned down to kiss him, Eames made fake gagging noises.
"Well, dear, you two certainly weren't sucking face like thirteen year olds when I walked in."
Without detaching my lips from Arthur, I smacked Eames. Arthur laughed and sat up. "What was it that you rushed in here for?"
"Oh!" I said excitedly. I jumped onto my gray and green quilt that was rumpled across my bed. Arthur pulled his arm around me, away from Eames. "Cobbs sent me a card!" I was practically jumping up and down. I threw it at him.
As he opened it, I silently wondered if there were any remotely good restaurants that weren't completely packed tonight. It was obvious that Arthur had not made any reservations and Paris was chalk full with tourists near Valentine's Day. It wasn't that I wanted to do anything all that strenuous (I was completely worn out from the dreams earlier), but it would be nice to go out for my birthday dinner.
Arthur handed me back the card. "It seems that we need to visit the states again, hm?"
I nodded. Eames looked over at us. "Well. I'm leaving now. I just wanted to make sure Arthur had found a way to get his head out of his butt. Happy birthday again, Ariadne." He gave me a hug and stood up. I made my way to walk him to the door, but he held up his hand. "I know my way out, love. Bye Arthur."
As his footsteps retreated and I heard the click of the front door, Arthur's arm crept back around me. I crossed my legs and exhaled. The picture of the three of us on my dresser glistened along side the one of my parents and me. "You know," I said, as Arthur started to rub my arm. "We need to find Eames a girlfriend. I think he's lonelier than we see."
He laughed, but didn't answer my question. "What is it you want to do for your birthday?"
I pondered for a moment. If he had asked me this morning, I would have had a plethora of things that we could do, ranging from the mundane to the insane. But now? All I wanted to do was something simple. "Could we go somewhere nice?" I asked slowly. "I mean…I don't really get to dress up often."
He nodded, quickly letting me go. "I'll see what I can do." Standing up, he took his phone out and started dialing. "Bonjour," he said as they answer. As he was leaving my room, he turned to wink at me and then rapidly started talking in French.
I sat on my bed for a moment, grinning like an idiot. I pranced back into my bathroom and started where I had left off on my hair.
The reflection in the mirror showed a watercolor painting I had made when I first started college. It was in the prettiest frame I owned and right above my dresser. Looking back on it, I knew that never in a million years had I expected anything like this to happen. I remembered the conversations I had had with my parents when I was still in high school. They always told me to go whatever lengths it took to accomplish my dreams. Or my "true potential" as they called it.
I opened the small jewelry box inside the cabinet above the toilet. I daintily took the simple locket I had been given upon my high school graduation and clutched it in my hand. This was the last thing I had received from my parents and I didn't wear it often. I shook as I brought it around my neck.
When I had settled it, I looked at my reflection, happy with what I saw. I wondered what my parents would think of my current line of work. Part of me hoped that they'd know I was doing what I loved, making beautiful works of art. Then the other half understood that for anyone to understand, they would have to experience the dream world.
Arthur's voice, now in English, startled me. He was still on the phone. My thoughts wandered. What would my parents think of Arthur? He made me happy, which would make them happy. And he was great with kids. But he was so…blank sometimes. It would frustrate my happy go lucky; let's hug all the time mother more than it did me.
"Ariadne?" Arthur said, peeking into my bathroom. He swiftly made his way over to me. "Everywhere is booked."
"Oh," I nodded, trying to keep my composure. "Well. I guess we can just eat here."
Arthur took one look at me and said, "I'll be back in half an hour."
"Can you see anything?"
I let out a deep breath. "No. I can't Arthur. You blindfolded me. Am I about to run into a wall?"
I heard his silent smile. "No. And we're almost there. Stop complaining."
My mouth had been open to, in fact, complain. I shut it and glared at the black fabric in front of me. His gentle hand guided me up stair. If he had told me I would be blindfolded, I wouldn't have worn heels. Step after step, I stumbled. Once we reached the top, Arthur slowly shifted me against the wall. "Stay here."
"Where else am I supposed to go?" I stage whispered. Moments later, I was in the air. "Arthur, put me down!"
I was dropped on the ground. "Oops," he muttered. I glared again at the blindfold. It was removed. I glanced around as Arthur sat down across from me. It took me a moment, but I realized we were on the top of my apartment building. You wouldn't have known it, though, because Arthur had gone all out.
"I went to buy a cake," Arthur explained, "and asked your doorman to please put as many rose petals and candles around as possible and lay out blankets. This," he pointed to the large picnic basket next to the cake as I sat awestruck, "was everything I had in my refrigerator. Which you know, you generally stock for me." He grinned at me, his eyes sparkling with the fire.
"You're something else," I smiled.
I decided then that my parents would most definitely approve of Arthur.
"Did I make up for everything?" he asked hopefully.
"You did more than make up for it." I leaned over and kissed him, right as the sun began to set.
There's the end. (: Hopefully it wasn't too confusing!
Extraction.
.net/s/6602138/1/Extraction