I'm actually pretty proud of my work, for once. I normally whine over my writing, but for being me, this has creativity and an exuberant vocabulary. I guess it's because I'm so passionate about this pairing XD
Yes, I LOVE IT! It's my OTP of the show, I'll always stick to it no matter what. Arnold/Helga for the win! *squee*
I don't own the characters, they all belong to the wonderful Craig Bartlett. Oh, and I haven't spellchecked. I'll edit errors later.
Stupid dirt.
Stupid garbage.
Stupid footb- sludge. Sludge!
The reason for this. The very despicable reason for this. Why? Why did this fate decide to torture her? With the dreams rolling in, she only knew the right thing to do anyway. Yes, the right thing. It was the only time during the day she could get her mind completely off the precious knight of her dreams. The bomb set off to her quite drastically about the very idea, but concluded to be the best to go through with it in the end. Far away from high school, far away from her shrine, far away from her poems. Far away from her football he-
She scrapped a lump of leavings from the pipe. Yuck. It was disgusting her to the core; yet it was perfect for her. Ever since working here, she hadn't let her mind drift away to her love. Ok, well then and there, but not nonstop like it did during class. Ok, that was a lie. A fat lie. She still thought of him 24/7, still not as passionately. The complete weakness that consisted of lovesickness was so strong that, in fact, she couldn't stand the thought of him being with someone else. Selfish, she knew; if you loved someone you had to let the person go. Despite such morals, she refused to admit that the sludge of the water system couldn't be a rich way of trying to develop the other sides of her personality, her disgust. She had noticed that she thought to much about how Arnold would touch her than the actually cocoon preventing her shy side out.
Yes, touch her. Not talk to her or say he loved her, but bodily TOUCH her.
Her spine went crazy at the recall. To her anger, she felt the blush heat up her cheeks as she scrapped the sludge down into a bucket.
She wasn't entirely sure if this part-time work was really worth it.
Mean, it HAD been effective, but only the first few hours. Now she was trying her hardest to keep her mind off of Arnold.
His touches...
DANG IT!
Stupid teenage hormones, stupid female needs, stupid Arnold for making her mind go crazy! It was all his fault for stealing her heart in the first place. That's right! All blame on the football head...
The thought lingered a while before she swallowed thickly. No. She let herself be cast under his hypnotizing spell. How could she ever accuse her beloved for such a thing when he was the most innocent as a baby nose and kind at heart, the most reasonable kid around the block. Her chain of thoughts were such a chagrin...man!
People would think what the heck kept Arnold so patient with all her bullying for so long, but Arnold was Arnold, and this Arnold was someone you could never guess the thoughts of. The trip to memory lane through their childhood had somewhat comforted her. She was thankful that Arnold was indeed no one else than...well Arnold. When it came to his patience, that is. When it came to making her knees go weak, then well, she wish that she could slap him so hard into the next universe.
And yet...
She loved the boy with all her heart. Even when the desire within her body was ruining her vision about that. She wanted to be rid of it, but needless to say, she couldn't.
She had to suffer through this cycle. It was not all in vain though; it was all just development from a little girl to a young woman, and, on second thought, she wouldn't mind making sweet love to the boy of her dreams. Well, at least not in the future.
But NOW? Why was her body developing NOW? Dang it, she was 16 years old, she treasured her virginity unlike Lila. Helga snorted at the memory of when Arnold's former crush had been bragging about sleeping with half the school. Peh. It was such strong irony as iron. Little miss perfect seemed to have completely lost control over herself after her development. After? She meant during. Helga had felt far from apprehensive as she saw the look of disrespect, so apparent, of her love's oblong face, knowing for a fact that Arnold hadn't been one of them. It relieved her. You had no idea how relieved she was, like a weight coming off her shoulders.
Somehow...some other kind of weight was still there.
She hadn't guessed three times. It all started half a year ago. Helga now emptied the bucket by dumping it down the toilet bowl. It was strictly forbidden to do so; but whatever! The work didn't work anyway, why would she worry about getting fired?
She remembered the shameful dream as clear as a day. She hated that she remembered it. She hated the knowledge from health class. Stupid, disgusting, provoking health class!
There was an old saying. You can't prevent birds from flying above the head, but you can prevent them from nesting on your head. Did that saying help her? Not even close. If her thoughts even dared to play around with saying, matters got worse.
She didn't want to remember the first night she dreamt about Arnold that way. It was wrong! Why did she have to remember her fantasy of his hands roaming all over her? Why did she have to remember the voice in her ears when he huskily panted her name?
Why did she freaking have to remember the worst part; when she woke up, had apparently fallen off the bed with the sheets around her frame, flustered and breathing heavily, feeling an aching need between her thighs?
She paused the thoughts while she reverted to her cleanse activity of the pipes.
This was so wrong, perverted, vulgar on so many levels. Arnold was an innocent little boy, so kind, a pure-minded football head! Those visions of wet dreams should be banned from every functional nerve fiber in her brain all together. Stupid hairboy! He made her feel all dirty and guilty, and he had the balls to go to bed every night in his stupid advanced room functions when a girl, obsessed with him, was achy with need to have him close? If he had known, then...
Maybe he did. That bastard.
She had already confessed her love to him. He knew she kept shrines of him and wrote poems about him. If they had reached puberty and IF he still bear in mind the health class lessons then he should know that she was in PAIN, and that he SHOULD be punished for letting her whine every night and pull the pillow over her head, yet that punishment was unfair. The most taunting about it all was that she knew that he was not to blame, only her and her alone.
Helga checked the time. 4 o'clock. Her shift was over.
She lazily lay aside her equipment, or verbally, just throwing them over to the side of the room not really caring about promotion or immersion. This didn't work out, and never would, never had.
She got what she expected. She got fired the next day, something to shrug at. Actually, she was quite surprised that they hadn't fired her earlier. Man, her boss had sucked.
What was she to do now? All she could reach her resolve to was to just live through with it. It wasn't such a big deal, was it? Maybe Arnold was having these problems too. Suddenly it struck her when she pondered from another perspective. The difference here though, is that he had no crush on anyone since the beginning of their youth prosperity. Thank goodness, none of his dreams risked to be anything of Lila. But seriously, there was simply no way they could have been Helga, if he had triggered any of those dreams in his life. Or, maybe his confused feelings about her did? On the other hand, the sensible conclusion was that he possibly never experienced these things at all. Envy. Envy swept over her at the thought. It was not her fault at any rate.
It even made her stomach and face grow hot simultaneously, her stomach feel added with the churning. Heck, this was a living hell. She envied all the girls who had never had a crush on someone and was struggling every night with her skin on fire, a combat with her conscious, to keep still and try to drift into dream land. And of course, that didn't work. It was worse. That way she could witness the whole perversity in all it's heated glory.
That stupid was all at fault. Something she had stated countless times by now.
Helga strode down the street, sulkily grunting at the annoying planning of how she should sleep tonight. Maybe on hard wood? No, she would probably dream about them doing it on the floor. Then how about the closet, perhaps...?
"Hi, Helga." Oh, she had to hear that voice of all the damn voices in the world. The voice she longed to hear every day; but also longed to stay out of her head.
She turned to the love of her life, and she swore she felt her stomach shrink. She didn't care what he was wearing or what mood he was in; the appearance itself would make her belly full of butterflies even if he wore a freaking winter jacket. That was the impact he had on her. And he didn't even know how much he affected her. Oblivious little darling.
"What is it, football head!" Her yell bounced between the buildings, giving off her trademark behaviour so to push him away. As usual, he was so used to it he didn't even jerk back the slightest.
"I've noticed the insomnia rings around your eyes, are you having a hard time sleeping?" He asked, concerned. Helga scoffed. Was he slow or what? How could he even RISK bringing the subject up when he had been her captor of her consciousness AND subconsciousness? The chain of thoughts was driving her moonstruck.
Then she did it. She pushed her main person of her erotic dreams out of her way. Dreams? Let her adjust: NIGHTMARES. How could they be dreams when it was a living torture?
"It's all your fault, football head! When are you gonna realize it?!" She roared, seeing the confusion in his emerald eyes. Alas...she couldn't halt herself from being poetic even when being mad at the guy.
She stormed off, leaving a heavily confused blonde behind. He stood there for a while in his silence, trying to let her outburst sink in.
"Have I done something to drive her mad?" He asked himself, fiddling with the question, never receiving an answer as he walked further down the street.
He would ask Helga tomorrow what was bothering her. He had never seen her so anxious and lost.
So...distracted?
A/N: Yes, it is your fault Arnold! Stop leaving poor little Helga so craving after you :( Oh well, I'm glad the pairing is cannon. Helga really deserves Arnold ^^ Rate and review!