Entry One - Black Spot Murders

2011: New Years Eve.

The first thing I remember about that night was the lights. you know, drugs and alcohol doesn't do a guy so well. Maybe I should have payed more attention that night, I could have done more.

The lights were really bright, maybe it was just because I was high, but there was a ton of lights. Strobe lights, disco lights, that kind of thing. The music was also turned up way too high, it was dubstep I think, and it was hurting my ears because dubstep has such varying frequencies. And I have sensitive hearing, probably because my eyesight is bad my hearing makes up for it somewhat. So some girls were nagging on me, and I couldn't really hear what they were saying. One was eh, blonde with green eyes, I knew her, her name was Avery Rane. Then two brunettes that I forget the eye color, it's hard to remember, you know? At the moment I was seeing all sorts of colors, so it was hard to tell. They were flirting with me, and after a while the music got so loud I needed to take a break. And I'm sitting outside on the back porch, having a smoke, and my head is throbbing and i'm dizzy. At the moment I was trying to collect my thoughts a bit better to go in and party some more, without a headache. So i'm sitting there, and suddenly I heard a scream. And I looked over, and across the pool, in the bushes was this guy. It was all slow, like, my breathing was louder and the images blurred if I looked at them too fast Like my eyes needed to settle on something. Once they did though, I saw some guy dressed in some sort of burlap sack. I mean, it wasn't a burlap sack, it looked like the material, and it covered his whole body. I couldn't see his hair, only his eyes when he turned to look at me. He had a knife, and some kind of ink dropper. His eyes were brown, and he looked like he was a white man, but I can't be sure. He looked at me for a minutes before taking off into the next backyard. He had an off stare, like he was trying to look into me, with narrowed eyes. He was looking directly at me when he saw me, I'm shocked he didn't go after me at all. Maybe because he saw I'm huge, but, still. He just stared.

The detective on the other side of the table stared at me. He looked angry, but I could tell he was thinking. He was pale, had a round face but yet looked older than I. Maybe a year or two older, but definitely older. Light freckles scattered about under his eyes and crossed the bridge of his nose. His eyebrows were colored a deep brown, maybe black, yet his hair was the color of wheat, A pen gripped lightly in his hand. His green eyes gave a few blinks before nodding and scribbling down the last few sentences. My eyes couldn't help but wander over the paper, he had nice hand writing, no smudges in the ink he wrote it, little curves and squiggles in each letter, but I couldn't read it being upside down.

"So, mister Jones, is it?" The other male said, raising a brow before looking back at me. I nodded. "Do you have any clue who could of done this?"

"No sir," I said hastily.

"Okay," The other nodded, eyes trailing away for a second, "Do you know who the message was intended for?" I gave the detective a small confused look. My mind flashed the scene, the 'Mommy needs a daddy now' scrawled sloppily on a sticky note that was stuck to the girl's hand.

"No clue," I muttered, shaking my head. It made no sense. Alfred knew that man couldn't of been that girl's son, she was at most in her late teens or early twenties, and that guy was large."Wait, so you know that this person is after somebody else?"

The detective sighed, "No. Not for sure at least. Psychology says that the message probably is saying somebody is next. Do you have any connections to this girl?" I swallowed.

I did have connections, or else she and I wouldn't be at the same party. I didn't know her name though, so my connections with her probably were thin. She probably went to highschool with me, but I doubt the killer is anyone I know. The killer was male, I knew that for a fact because of the body shape, so it is possible I know him. "I do, but very thin connections." I was trying to sound professional, this detective was intimidating. Well, he was much smaller than I, he was skinny. But, his profession, his smoothness, just made me feel so... Ugh. I'm too awkward. I swallowed. The light colored room was also very unsettling. The walls were peachy like skin, the ceiling white. Whenever you hear of an interrogation room, I always thought of something harsh, with the light and somebody screaming at you. But this was so eerily quiet. Also, probably because I wasn't a suspect. I was previously, but they cut that short with questioning others and more evidence, thank god. Plus, this detective in particular liked me.

"Keep an eye out," The other male said with a small, white smile. I nodded, smiling as if given permission. "God knows who that was," He sighed, drawing a few dots on his notebook. The detective snapped out of his trance once again, "Do you know what the blackness in the eyes was caused by?"

I nodded, "The dye bottle he held was black."

"Ah," The blonde nodded, gnawing on his pen, "That one's obvious," he rolled his eyes with a sigh, and I bit my lip. Was he calling me stupid? He asked me! You know, I always thought detectives wore suits or were buff and tall, but this guy was small and wore a blue t-shirt. Huh. He had a name-tag though, that I hadn't payed attention to before. It read 'Arthur Kirkland' in gold letters. I had seen him on the news a few times, I knew he was pretty good at what he does. Arthur has caught almost every criminal thrown at him.

"So, your names Arthur?" I asked quietly. He seemed a bit taken aback that I had mentioned his name, but he nodded. I smiled. "Cool. I've seen you on the news." Arthur then proceeded to flash me a toothy grin, it was more of a pride thing than anything. I chuckled.

"You'd say i'm rather good at what I do," He said in his thick British accent. I smiled and nodded. Arthur seemed proud of what he did, should be, he probably has tons of cash. "But, lets not talk about that now, hm?" I nodded. This was an interrogation room, I shouldn't be asking him about his personal life. "So, Jones, did you see anything while arriving at the party?"

"No," I said quietly, shaking my head, "I just kinda... Walked in." I wished I payed more attention that night. I would have been able to help more. When I saw that dead woman, damn, I almost cried. It was horrifying, I wish I could have helped, but that night was such a big blur. "I wished I payed attention to details."

Arthur shook his head, "No, no, it's fine. It's not like you can see the future," Arthur sighed, the pen going from his paper to his hand. He started to draw rings on his fingers. "You've been a great help, you being the only one to see the killer. Despite being drunk. We can know hopefully connect this guy to previous murders, unless this a new guy."

I shifted on the chair, watching the ink disperse in neat lines across Arthur's pale skin. He looked back up at me, "Hey, you're drinking age, right?" Arthur squinted, and I smiled nervously. Since I was one of the first suspects, they had most of my information, shit. I don't have any money, I don't even have a job! I swallowed. "No, you're twenty."

I shrugged nervously, "Party hard," I muttered, swinging my fist. God, I can't pay a ticket! I don't have enough cash, damn I should get a job, I still live with my parents. "You know, hashtag yolo?"

Arthur actually smiled, "Do you have five-hundred dollars?" He asked. How should I know?

"No sir," I said nervously, the sound being choked out of my throat. I probably didn't.

Arthur smiled again. I felt relieved when he smiled, it seemed very friendly and kind. I hoped he would let me go, I can't afford to pay, and my parents will kill me! "Don't worry about it," Arthur said with a small eyeroll. Ah, thank god. "Don't tell anyone, but I used be quite the drinker. I don't any more, of course."

"How old are you now?" I asked curiously, my fingers tapping the table.

"Twenty three, turning twenty four in a week," Arthur chimed, taking the papers he had been writing in and straightening them out. He looked back up at me, "Now that we're small talking, you're done here."

I nodded, "Yes sir," I murmured, awkwardly getting up, trying not to trip on anything. I was rather awkward, bodily and mentally. I felt almost as if I was still trapped in high school, without the school part. I istill live with my parents, I still don't have a job, and i'm still dumb as rocks. I was stubborn during highschool, I never made plans. I thought it would all work out. Nobody has told me 'I told you so' besides my parents because I was nice to everyone. I wasn't a bully, I was kind to almost everyone. Even the shyest kids in school told me I deserved to be the top dog. Being nice doesn't matter in this world.

I'm not sure if I wanted to leave or not. Arthur's nice, I like talking to him. But yet he's basically a stranger.

"Do you want to go and get a cup of tea with me? My shift is over." Arthur shot me a glance, his green eyes only describable by the word emerald. I shot him a squint. Get a tea with someone who was questioning me for murder clues? Seems legit. I don't have anything better to do anyways.

"I drink coffee," I said, taking my jacket off the back of the chair. Well, that sounded rude.

"Starbucks okay?" Arthur asked, taking off his own jacket from his chair as well, "They have tea there." Arthur said, slipping out the dull green jacket. It was a rather feminine jacket, actually. It was a button up with a collar, and went down to his kneecaps. He was busy buttoning the jacket up to answer.

"Sure," I said with a nod, zipping up my bombers jacket with a quiet zip sound. I watched Arthur throw on a scarf.

Arthur and I exited the building after he threw the notepad into his messenger bag. It was a cold, bitter New England afternoon, this place was a killer in the winter. I had to burying my nose in the fur collar of my jacket to keep my nose from freezing off. Arthur and I didn't make small talk on the way there, it was to cold too. Arthur just coughed and sneezed every once in a while, and I started to wonder if he had a cold. He was awful pale. Did I find it weird he wanted to have a coffee with me? A little. I was gay, and when any man asked me to lunch or really anywhere it made me feel weird when I wasn't there friend. I knew he was probably trying to be my friend, but every male friend of mine, I always felt awkward around for the first week or two. Plus, Arthur was a detective. He questioned me what I saw on the night of a murder. It's kind of weird he wants to be my friend.

The coffee shop was warm. It smelt of coffee beans, and I sighed once walking in. Arthur sighed as well, prying his fingers between his scarf to tug it loose. I watched him as he did, watching his skinny fingers curl around the grey scarf. Arthur looked at me.

"You have nice cheekbones," Arthur said, squinting at me, his blonde eyelashes now visible with the light offered in the shop. I cocked my head and laughed.

"Okay?" I said, smiling awkwardly. I was actually feeling flustered with that compliment, or I think it was a compliment. Say, I wonder if Arthur is gay. I mean, straight people don't just say that. And I don't mean to be stereotypical, but he is rather girly seeming. His actions aren't, but the way he dresses and just walks gives that girlish view. "Thanks I guess."

"And just a nice face over all," Arthur said simply, rubbing his hands together, "I mean, like a strong face. I don't know," Arthur chuckled and looked back up at me, he shrugged, "Sorry, that was strange."

"It's alright," I laughed, taking off my jacket and tying it around my waist. It was hot in here, my green sweater alone was starting to kill me. "I know how that feels." I rolled my eyes, "Should we get the coffee?"

"Tea," Arthur said, pointing to his chest. I'm guessing Arthur is a full out Brit, "I'll pay, I have way too much money."

"Great, I have like, none," I said with a chuckle. Being a detective must be a well paying job, Arthur definitely sounds like he's rich. Plus he's taken down a ton of criminals, i'm guessing he relies on smarts, he doesn't look very strong. He's a good height, not short nor tall, but skinny. Everything is small on him, he even has a small little button nose. He's rather cute, but like a handsome cute, ah it's hard to explain.

"What? Do you still live with your parents or something?" Arthur chuckled. He was joking, but I almost choked on my own spit. Arthur raised an eyebrow, jeez, he guessed spot on. "You still live with your parents?" I nodded wearily.

Arthur then wore a cracked smile across his lips. He started to laugh, and I scowled. "It's not funny!" I yelled, but in a childish, whiny way. Like we had been friends for ages. I swallowed, then realizing that was slightly weird. Why was Arthur so comfortable with me? I grew quiet yet again, feeling my cheeks darken in color. Something was wrong with me, this feeling was familiar, but a little past 'I'm with my preferred gender. But I had felt it before.

...oh no.

I looked at Arthur with slight displeasure. Shit! Not that, not the case of the love sickness! Fuck, fuck, fuck! This is even worse then high school crushes, because I won't get a chance to see him again if I don't hit on him. Maybe I can see how this goes, then ask him for his number, as a friendly thing. Unless he tells me he's gay, then I'll go full out 'I wanna be your boyfriend' on him.

Arthur ordered coffee, I asking for a French vinalla. But now that I realized why I was being so awkward, my awkward level went up ten levels. As I moved out of his way I stumbled over my own feet, then giggled like a schoolgirl. I thanked him three times for the coffee as we went to sit down. As I sat down I almost slipped out of the damn chair..! Arthur gave me an eye roll and chuckle, shaking his head after blowing on his tea.

"Someone's a tad clumsy," he said with A smile, raising a brow. I smiled nervously, shrugging.

"Hah, yeah.." I murmured, rubbing my cheek. I'm normally not unless i'm under pressure, but he can't know i'm under pressure.

"So mister Alfred Jones," Arthur said, sipping on his tea with a slightly amused glance, "I would like to know more about you."

I started to slowly sip my coffee. It was unexpectedly hot, and I recoiled with the familiar burning tongue feel. I rubbed the roof of my mouth with my tongue for a few moments before speaking. "I uh, i'm not good at small talk," I said with a chuckle, looking down with a small shrug.

"Well," Arthur said, "What's your favorite color?" I looked up at him, my brow furrowed slightly, but I nodded slowly after. That's a normal question. I was about to speak until Arthur began too, "Mine's green."

"I like red," I said. Funny, my cheeks were that color. Kinda, my panic had gone down a little at this point. "Like, uh, firetruck red."

"Hm, cool," Arthur said with a nod, nibbling on his lip. He was clearly in thought, trying to think of something to talk about. I was never good at small talk. You see, highschool was much easier for me socially because I could scream something 'funny' down the hall and everybody would laugh. It's not appropriate outside of high school, nor do looks win you anything, or football. It's hard for me, I haven't had a single lover for two years, basically since I graduated high school. The best relationship I had was in sophomore year, we had sex like, four times. But that was really it, it lasted the whole year. Even though I graduated, I graduated with awful grades, and nothing good to my name. When I was in middle school, preparing for high school, I only thought of how to socially get around. Which worked, but I really should have payed more attention to academics.

"What about..." My mind on the topic of high school, I knew what to ask, which would probably spark some conversation, "how was highschool?"

Arthur paused, "High school?" Arthur laughed, rubbing his eyes. He looked a bit dumbfounded I had asked. "It was alright. I was somewhat of an outcast, but I had my group of three friends and got along particularly well with everybody else. I was bullied a little, not really, but I knew I wasn't loved by everybody. I was more focused on schoolwork, and I usually got A's. I was really good in anything physiological, and English. Everyone was jealous," Arthur laughed, flashing me a almost playful grin. Well, at least he had a pleasant time. I did have a great time at high school ((Somewhat)), but now that I look back at it, I was disgusted. "Went to college for three years, and then tada, i'm here!" Arthur smirked, "But I was most known for being the fastest person in the school to solve a rubix cube."

I raised a brow, "How fast?"

"Thirty seconds," Arthur said, slightly puffing out his chest with a proud smile. My mouth somewhat opened in a smile.

"Really?"

"Yup!" Arthur took another sip of his tea. I dared to put my lips on the coffee cup, it was now comfortable hot and I drank a few slow sips. Arthur's pink lips were still in a half smile. "So, what about you?" He asked, tapping the table, "Did you have the fastest time for chugging down a whole vodka bottle? How about fastest eater? I mean, you're a big guy. I would expect you have to eat a lot to keep that."

Arthur was right, I did have to eat a lot. I got hungry fast, probably because of my size and physical activity. I wasn't overweight, I was actually a good size for my height and muscle. My weight usually varies between 195 and 200, so back at school people did respect me. The quiet kids were the most respectful, even though it was kind of strange. "No," I shook my head with a chuckle, rolling a shoulder to stretch it. "I was real good at football."

"Makes sense," Arthur said with a nod, grinning. "I mean if I saw that charging at me," He gestured to me, "I'd probably run." We both giggled for a few moments.

"I was never mean to anybody, ya know?" I said with a small shrug, "I knew I got respect, and sure, I enjoyed it. But I wasn't a jerk. Only a jerk to my friends, because you know, they're my friends." My friend's were the jerks. Not exactly jerks, they just weren't as nice. They would try and scare the shy kids on rare occasions. But as my friends, we would toss each other around, throw punches, act like little kids around each other. My friendship ended with most of them when one of them found out I was gay, and that lead to a huge fight. And since I was the biggest, I kicked his ass. That was one of my biggest, but yet most horrid, achievements.

"Hm," Arthur nodded, "I was bullied in junior year a lot, probably because I was a junior. But I was the oldest in my grade, so," Arthur shrugged with a small eyebrow raise added. "But after that everything was smooth."

"What happened to your friends?" I asked after taking another sip of my coffee.

"Ah, Liz moved to Hungary, Angus went to Florida, Oliver went to England, and I don't know what happened to Yao.." Arthur rubbed his chin but then shrugged, "What about yours?"

"We all broke up after a while," I murmured, "Nothing like that would have lasted very long. I think we all knew it too."

"So you have no friends?" Arthur asked quietly, furrowing his brow. He rested his head in his hands. It seemed Arthur was extremely interested in my life. It was a little... Strange.

"No, no," I said. I really didn't at this point. I kind of did, they were all party friends, though. "Arthur, I go to parties, dude. I'm still kind of popular." Arthur nodded, but pouted his lip as if I sounded to rude.

"Well, it's no wonder you were popular, you've got some great genes," Arthur's pout soon turned into a playful glance once again, "You're like, the definition of 'pretty boy'." We both laughed for a little, but I couldn't help but run my fingers awkwardly through my hair. Arthur sounded like a gay man. I knew it was stereotypical, but if any of my friends said that they would be called gay. Maybe it's just Arthur's demiener.

"You don't look to bad yourself," I said with a small smile. It's strange for someone to be complimenting me with me not returning it.

That's when Arthur's personality was shattered with one, simple action. He cocked and turned his head, smiled shyly, and twirled a strand of lightly colored hair. I almost burst out laughing. Oh my god, he looked so much like... Like a girl! Not him, but just the action, and the professionalism he had shattered completely. "Really?" He said childishly.

"Yeah," I said with a laugh. Oh man, that was weird, but yet rather hopeful. Maybe he is gay. Maybe we can date. That would be cool. It took a while for Arthur to loosen up, but once he did he still wore a faint smile, sipping on his tea quietly. "Ya got nice eyes, too."

"Aw," Arthur said, his faint smile growing into a larger, yet shy one, "You're sweet." His lips stayed on his styrofoam mug, though, softly sipping the liquid from it. I smiled kindly, my smile dragging my head down so it was cocked to a certain angle.

"Mh, thanks," I said with a small nod, straightening out my neck before rubbing the back of it. I felt.. Determined. Strangely. My brain connected the strange determination with the fact that now I was probably flirting with Arthur. He seemed to be taking it well, and hopefully he was gay so this wasn't strange. "And you've got cute freckles," I added, a smirk planted on my lips. My brain wasn't even holding back now. This is what happens when you're spoiled In the social department through high school.

Arthur giggled again, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a skinny fingertip. "I personally hate them," he muttered, still grinning like he had received every compliment known to man.

"Aw, why?" I said, before taking another sip of my coffee. I was wearing that professional, prideful glance, the furrowed brows and smirk. I never made full eye contact while I spoke, it was some flirting thing I learned back in school to make your target want more. "They're adorable."

"Tease," Arthur purred with a happy look, rubbing one of his now reddish cheeks. Man, I am really a wonderful flirt! Arthur and I wore two incredibly different grins, his flattered and shy, mine proud and trying to lure him in. I guess i'm just warming him up to the final question of 'Are you gay?' or hopefully he'll tell me.

I chuckled, "I can't help it," I said with a purr, doing a small hand gesture, "You're just so handsome."

"Oh stop it," Arthur said with a shy smile, pulling off the same expression as he had before. "This has turned into flirt fest, my god Al," Arthur shook his head, still smiling. That got my hopes up that he recognized I was flirting and was not freaked out, hella.

I shrugged almost innocently, looking away briefly before my eyes looked back into his. Arthur's eyes widened, fluttering away quickly. Now there is the sign that you're winning someone over. Arthur sipped his tea, a few spokes of steam twirling out. My eyes glued on them, easily distracted by the grey steam. My eyes slowly trailed away, sipping my coffee slowly. "So, you're twenty four, hm? You act like a fifteen-year-old schoolgirl when you're embarrassed."

Arthur gawked. "Oh shut it, you!" His grimace turned into a small smile eventually. Arthur continued to sip his tea, and we both fell silent. I had officially ran out of 'I want to date you' compliments. And anyways now if I just said it and broke the silence with a flirt, that would be too obvious that I wanted to date. I shot Arthur a few looks, he opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it, and we just sipped on our drinks. He finished before me, but I chugged the rest of my coffee so he wouldn't have to wait for me. Arthur soon got on his coat, so did I, and wrapped his scarf around his neck. I threw our cups out.

"Well that was nice," Arthur murmured with a small shrug, playing with a button on his coat as we walked out, "I haven't done something like this in a while." Arthur smiled and rolled his eyes, "Besides for your flirting." He rolled his eyes and I chuckled, pulling my coat closer around my neck. The fur collar brushed around my cheeks, tickling the skin lightly. This jacket used to be my fathers, but it eventually became mine because I wore it so much. I took my school pictures in it, I wore it to all of the family weddings, everything. It didn't even fit me until I was seventeen, the shoulders were too slouchy because I didn't have the muscles to hold them up. Now I do, of course. "Mind trading numbers? Or emails? Something to keep in touch?"

I nodded, of course I want to keep in touch. "Sure thing," I said with a smile, backing up to open the door for Arthur. He nodded in thanks and went through the doorway, my body dipping through the door, following Arthur. I sped up a little to catch up, smiling softly despite the cold that was now on my cheeks. Arthur had paused a few feet from the coffee shop, pushing the cuffs of his grey-green jacket down to check the time.

"Four o'clock," He muttered, looking at me. I nodded, and we just kind of stood there. My tongue went dry, as if no words wanted to exit my mouth besides that one, hard question. Arthur stared too, as if he had something to ask me. The silence felt like hours.

I took a deep breath, "Are you gay?"

"Yeah, you?"

I nodded, "Yeah," I murmured, my neck hardly moving in a nod. The only sound was the wind blowing. I looked at Arthur slowly, widening my eyes with a small innocence, fearing him to yell at me. Arthur's eyes stared back at me already, though, with the slight widnes that mine had.

"Do you want to go out?" Arthur asked.

"Sure."

We both nodded, I biting on my lip as Arthur's lips slowly turned into a half smile. That wasn't too awkward, I wasn't saying 'uh' between any words, so that's good. Maybe it was the cold, but I had that weird fresh feeling, like after you completely calm down from crying. Like that but without the headaches and eye-burning. Arthur then walked closer to me, "C'mon, it's too cold to be standing here. I'll walk you home."

"Okay," I muttered, wearing a small expression of relief and contentment.

"It's not far from here, correct?" Arthur asked, looking up at me. I was a good head taller than him.

"Nope," I said. I kind of felt bad for having him walk back to the police station to get his car all alone, "How about we just walk to the police station and you can drive me home?" I insisted. Arthur raised his brows and nodded, probably not wanting to admit that was a better idea than his previous one, but I could see it in his expression that that was exactly what he was thinking.

And we walked to his car, trudging through the slush and completely melted snow. I was starting to regret wearing non-waterproof combat boots now. Arthur seemed content with his black, shiny-looking boots, so those must be waterproof. I sighed, my toes starting to go numb. Well now I have a boyfriend, wooh.

"So, eh, what do you do for fun?" I asked, looking at him. Arthur cocked his head and stared at me, a cracked smile on his lips. "I need to know what you do for fun if we're going to date."

Arthur rubbed his hands together, blushing slightly. It could have been from the cold, but I didn't know. "Well, with all my past boyfriends... I cuddled with them." Arthur shrugged, "I'm not a big partier. I quit drinking liqour, I only drink table wines now. Um.. Just sweet, stuff." That sounded a lot like the stuff I would do with my one boyfriend that actually mattered. Besides the party thing, but we never did many sexual things together. "But i'm not a virgin," Arthur added, "I've had sex three times."

"Oh, I've had it four times," I snapped my fingers with a small smirk. Now, I loved sweet things, but sex is awesome.

"Shut up," Arthur said playfully, elbowing my side with a skinny arm. We fell silent again, not much else to talk about it. It's a strange thought that I have a boyfriend again, like it's not hitting me full on. I'm almost in calm disbelief. Until one of Arthur's cold hands pressed against my slightly open palm.

"Uh," Arthur murmured, looking up at me briefly before curling his thumb around mine.

"Oh, oh, um, okay," I muttered quietly, I chuckled nervously, extending my hand to gently hold Arthur's. Instead of our fingers entwining together, just his index finger rested on the crook in my fingers. We both smiled awkwardly at each other before continuing down the road, our half-intertwined hands swaying slightly as we walked.

And that was how I met Arthur Kirkland. A murder victim had brought me to him, yes, sick, I know. But I beileve it was destiny. Kinda. Arthur and I fit together like two mismatching puzzle pieces, but yet they somehow fit. We were competitive, constantly at it after we got to know each other, our relationship like a battle over who was better. He was, clearly, but my ego wouldn't allow me to say that. He was successful, and usually gave me the money to pay off my rent with my parents. After a while, I moved in with him to my parents glee. And life was good. I took care of the house, while Arthur went to work. They hadn't had any cases after that one that was similar in style, and the case was dropped after a year. Arthur and I were happy, despite our battles on who kissed better or who made the best dinners, we were most certainly happy. Despite our pointless, childish bickering, in serious moments we could definitely be sweet. Days he had off, which were always big deals, we would snuggle and kiss all day, tell each other sweet nothings. Because when he had days off, there was no use in bickering.

And of course I feared Arthur's job. He had to do dangerous things while I sat home and watched football on the TV. It was scary, thinking of him dying, thinking of him getting hurt, thinking of someone breaking in as some sort of revenge act.

I forced myself not to worry, though, I would protect Arthur at all costs if it ever came down to that.

In my mind, I was his stonewall.

Authors Note_

i'M ALIVE

So, new story. This is going to be a murder-mystery-based thing, and i'm actually very confident in the story line so far. No way i'm giving any hints, because the slightest hint will ruin everything. I'm only saying that the killer will be introduced before I show who the murderer really is. So you can have fun trying to figure out who it is or whatever. And no, the killer is not Alfred or Arthur. My spell-checker and all the friends who have read this asked that, because somehow they thought it came off that Alfred was the killer.

-A few more notes, this story will not focus on the buildup of Al's and Arthur's relationship. The focus is their relationship, but not the build up of it like my other stories. It would be hard to make their relationship build as all this shit as taking place. And the first part of the story, when Alfred was explaining what he saw, he is basically telling Arthur the same thing. It doesn't make much sense, but just imagine the first paragraph in quotations if its hard to understand.

-This story has been rated M for many reasons. Smut over all (all my stories have smut), sensitive material, and the a big unexpected factor being gore. I'm secretly a very good gore writer, so things are going to get gross. And dark. Sensitive material is going to be murder (duh), death (clearly), mention of rape and self harm, and some dark themes. Please do not bug me and say I didn't warn you, because I did, right here.

-This is a horrid first chapter. It's more of an intro.

-For those of you reading my other fics, I might be canceling Autographs. I'm just.. Writers block. I'm not taking it from my page, nor am I going to call it 'completed' until i'm sure I don't want to continue it anymore. My writing skills have gotten better since I wrote that ((Thanks to omegle rp's and my crazy science teacher who needs everything perfect, college-level in writing -and i'm in high school so that's hard for me-)). Golden Dreams and AITDOH are probably the only ones that i'll be for sure continuing. I changed Golden Dreams's title to 'boy next door' to more properly fit the storyline. I've taken a long break on AITDOH because the assignment for chapter three has been postponed, therefore I cannot finish it.

-The original title, if anyone cares, was 'Eyes of Black', but I thought that was to scary sounding for a usuk fic . So, stonewall in my world sounded better. (It's a synonym for protection, and protection sounded much to boring though I was considering it))

-Seeyah around ^^ Look you can almost tell my use of english writing word thingies got a little more mature. Thanks omegle roleplayers for making me seem like a terrible writer so then I forced myself to get better!

-((this is an awful start to a fic. I promise it'll get better.))