A/N: Hi :) You're looking rather nice today, I must say.
"Don't laugh at me," Artie giggled, rolling over to me. He had red juice spilled all over the front of his shirt, clearly caused by trying to take a drink and wheel around at the same time. I told him it was an awful idea, but Artie sometimes felt this compulsive need to impress me. I was clenching my sides laughing, watching Artie frown dissaprovingly at the red stain on his white, button down shirt. He glanced up at me, making a fake mad face.
"That's what you get, Artie," I laughed, getting up off of his bed. I flitted to the spacious bathroom, everything easily accessible for Artie. I glanced around, searching for a towel to dry Artie off with. I really noticed how different the room was from the bathroom I had in my house. Not just for obvious reasons, but because everything was precise and clean, nearly surgical. Everything gleamed. I guess it was all out of habit. I had seen Artie drop a t-shirt off of his lap when he was bringing laundry up to his room, Mrs. Abrams sprinting over to pick it up. I figured she was just looking out to make sure Artie didn't get anything caught in his wheels.
Everything was organized to an extreme degree. The shelves were lined with bathroom necessities, everything a bright, blinding white. Even the little carpet in front of the toilet was that same white color. The handlebars next to the toilet were religiously cleaned, as well as the handlebars in the shower. Mrs. Abrams had to clean them at least 3 times a week. I glanced at the shower for a second. It was new. I noticed this one had a small door that opened in the front so Artie could easily slide himself inside while leaving his chair outside of the door. The sink was low and hipped so Artie could come right up to the sink without any trouble.
I guess I didn't really notice the special things Artie had to have because of his disability. It may sound weird, but I didn't even notice the wheelchair most of the time. I mean, it's not like I forgot about it and said stupid things to him, but I just kind of looked past it. I was just wrapped up in Artie, not the fact that Artie had a wheelchair. I glanced at myself in the mirror for a quick second and grabbed one of the fluffy, white towels before waltzing back to Artie's room.
"Whoa," I gasped, walking in on Artie rolling around with his shirt unbuttoned. I probably sounded really stupid, like I've never seen a guy with their shirt off or something, but it surprised me. I instinctively looked away, just so I wouldn't freak him out.
"Tee, what are you doing?" He asked me, grabbing the towel from my hand. I sat down on his bed, distracting my eyes with the little pictures lining his dresser. I saw the one of us, our arms wrapped tightly around each other and making comical faces. The picture was only taken a few days ago, but it was there already. I remembered sitting on Artie's couch, watching old Disney movies before his mom started snapping pictures. I smiled to myself, small enough that Artie wouldn't notice.
"Uhh," I mumbled awkwardly, listening to Artie's stifled laughter from across the room. He rolled over the laundry basket next to the bed, throwing his shirt inside. Artie glanced over at me, giggling at my rigid pose.
"You're such a cute weirdo," He laughed, rolling over to me. I finally looked back at him, blushing furiously at his comment.
"I'm not a cute weirdo," I defended playfully, occasionally stealing glances at his stomach. I knew Artie had some super-human upper body strength but I didn't realize how doing simple, average, everyday tasks could tone your body like that. I could feel my face burning as he noticed my stares. He snorted jokingly.
"Yes," He teased, turning away to go get a new shirt. I breathed, shaking my head. He grunted in disapproval at his closet, "No more shirts." He frowned, wheeling over to his dresser. Digging through his drawer, picked up a white v-neck and some pajama pants. They had little trains on them.
"Trains, Artie?" I giggled, leaning my back against the headboard. Artie bit his lip in thought.
"Tee, this is going to sound really weird, but can you help me?" He asked, holding out his pants. I ran my fingers through my hair nervously, tucking a blue streak behind my ear. I figured Artie's parents usually helped him with this part, but they went out on a date. They had to let me come over just so Artie would cook dinner for himself. Artie was a terrible cook, even though I won't tell him. He ruined his mom's favorite pan by burning water to the bottom of it. He burnt water.
"Uhh, sure," I nodded, getting up off of Artie's bed. I smoothed out the bedspread before taking the pants out of his hand.
"Last time I tried to put pajamas on on my own, I dislocated my ankle. I had no idea that I did it, but my parents realized it when they came home and my ankle was swollen five times it's normal size," He laughed dryly, "My mom freaked out and took me to the hospital. I had to wear a boot for a while, which probably looked insanely weird to some people." He added before sliding on to the floor effortlessly, propping himself up with his elbows. I remember doing this one other time before, so I knew the drill. He shifted his weight to his right elbow, unbuttoning this pants with the other. I quickly undressed and redressed him, attempting not to look at Artie's face. We didn't say anything until I was done, "Thanks, Tee." I nodded slowly, plopping down on the floor next to him. I leaned on my side, holding my head up with my crooked elbow.
"No problem," I said as Artie mimicked my position, staring into my eyes for a second. For a moment, I think the world just disappeared. I forgot about everything. I forgot about school, about responsibility, about life, everything. I just felt like I was home. I felt like everything was going to be okay for me. Artie broke the symmetry when he reached out his hand to re-tuck the piece of hair behind my ear.
"I'd rather see your face," Artie smiled, bright and just a little bit crooked, flashing his teeth. That's when I noticed it.
"Oh, my god, Artie. Is that an earring?" I hissed, reaching my hand out to touch the little, black, half-hoop on his ear. Artie's eyes widened, his hand flying to his ear to cover it up, "Why is your ear pierced?" I couldn't help but laugh. The guy I knew that was perfectly content with wearing mom jeans and button up shirts all of the time was wearing an earring.
"Uhh, what earring?" He laughed awkwardly, holding his palm over his ear. I was giggling hysterically, leaning closer. Artie rolled over on his back, attempting to get away from me.
"Let me see!" I giggled, sitting up on my knees. He shook his head, still hiding the earring. Starting to roll on to his other side, I stopped Artie with my palm on his chest. I shifted my leg over him, hovering above his stomach. Holding his arms down with my arms, I got a good look at the earring. It was messily pierced in an awkward spot. Other than that, it was infected or anything, "What did you do?" I asked, still marveling at his ear.
"Okay, okay. I was hanging out with Puck and-" He started, cutting himself off, "Look, Puck said if I looked more "hardcore", maybe you would like me again." He said bluntly, making quotes with his pinned down hands.
"You don't need to pierce your ear to get me to like you, Artie," I said, looking into his eyes. I let his hands go, letting him prop himself up on his elbows. I leaned down, sitting on his lap, "Look, the truth is, Mike and I went downhill because-" I stopped before I said something that could ruin everything forever. I couldn't tell him what I really felt. I would scare him away.
"Why?" He said airily and light, locking eyes with me again. I could swear my mouth hung open like an idiot before I finally decided to tell the truth. Honesty is the best policy, right?
"Because-" I paused, "Well, I never really stopped loving you." I said slowly, darting my eyes frantically around his face, begging for some kind of reaction. I bit my lip nervously, probably harder than I should have. I realized how awkward my position was when he tried to sit up further. I got off of Artie as fast as I could, sitting back on my knees. Scooting himself back to lean on the side of his bed, Artie grabbed both of my hands with his and started to speak. I held my breath in anticipation.
"The truth is, the only reason I ever dated Brittany was a failed attempt to get over you. I just thought I was being crazy, chasing after a girl with a boyfriend. The weird thing is, I didn't really realize that I loved you until I saw you in the hallway, holding Mike's hand. The pure sight just punched me in the gut. That's why I agreed to date Brittany," He paused before looking into my eyes again, "I love you, Tina."
My stomach fluttered when I got to say the words I had been waiting so long to say, "I love you, too." I was waiting so long, from the very first day Artie and I decided to hang out again, "More than you know." I didn't realize I said the words out loud until Artie pulled me into his arms, kissing me lightly on the forehead. His touch electrocuted me, sparking something inside of me. Artie's stomach growled angrily under me. I pulled away, laughing again.
"Way to ruin the moment, stomach," He shook his head, his words breathy and light.
"We can go make some food," I suggested, walking over to get Artie's chair. Artie smiled brightly again, looking up at me.
"Hell yes," He said, scooting toward his chair. I started to lean down to help him up in it instinctively before he smacked away my arms. I stepped back, letting Artie do his thing, "Watch this." He said, winking comically. Artie reached back, grabbing the armrests with his hands. Effortlessly, Artie pulled himself up, sitting comfortably in the worn wheelchair. I remember the time Artie and I were joking around and he had me sit in his wheelchair while he sat on his bed. We were training to perform, "Proud Mary" in wheelchairs and I had to lend my wheelchair to Brittany so she would get her required three hours a day. I sat in Artie's normal spot, sinking into the chair. It was bigger than the one I was used to. It was...cozier. I glanced up at Artie, watching his eyes flicker at me. I immediately got up, wheeling the chair back to him.
"What's the matter?" I remember asking him, resting my head on his shoulder. He intertwined his fingers in front of him, something obviously on his mind.
"I don't know. I know that this whole assignment is supposed to teach what it's like to be in a wheelchair but it almost hurts to see everyone in the wheelchairs," He said, pain inflicted on his words, "I wouldn't wish this on anyone." He grumbled, smacking his legs with one hand. I pulled it away, holding it with both of mine. I remember not even saying anything, but somehow he knew what I was going to say. I remember him nodding in acceptance and resting his cheek on the top of my head. We just sat there, no words to describe what we were feeling. Just love.
I shook myself from the memory, wheeling Artie out into the kitchen.
"What are we going to cook?" He asked, opening the pantry doors.
"I don't know," I said, pressing my index finger to my chin, "Spaghetti?" I suggested, watching Artie's face light up. He nodded in approval, grabbing noodles, sauce, spoons, a large pot and a frozen bag of pre-made meatballs.
"Ooh, meatballs. Someone's getting fancy," I joked, filling the pot up with water. I set it on the stove, turned it on and waited impatiently for the water to boil. Artie was busy defrosting the meatballs in the microwave. Artie's mom put most things on lower shelves so Artie could reach them, including the microwave. I glanced over at him, watching him shove the whole bag in the microwave and pressing random buttons, "Artie, I think it's probably a bad idea to put the frozen meatballs in the microwave on the "popcorn" setting, don't you think?" I laughed, stopping the microwave. I assisted in the pressing of buttons before the water started to boil, bubbling over the pot. I slid the noodles into the water, putting the top on. I started heating the sauce next to it as well before I decided to go get the rest of the things we needed.
"Artie, can you handle the noodles while I go down in the basement to go get butter?" I asked, closing the fridge, unable to find any butter at all. He nodded triumphantly, rolling over to the low stove. I flitted out of the room, running down to the basement freezer to dig for butter. I guess I was also using this excuse as a decoy to clean myself up and get my iPod to play music while we ate. I grabbed the first package of frozen butter, running upstairs again. I waltzed back into the bathroom, digging a few bobby pins out of my pocket. I pinned my streaks back on each side with the pins, tucking my hair out of my face. I touched up my make-up, too, even though it didn't matter much. I didn't realize how long I was taking until I heard Artie scream.
"TINA!" Artie screeched from the kitchen, the squeak of wheels following his outburst. I sprinted out of the bathroom, leaving the butter on the bathroom counter. I saw Artie leaning over the sink, dumping the water into a strainer. At least he had that part right. Then, I looked at the pot.
"Artie, why didn't you mix them! You're supposed to stir them!" I groaned, taking the pot from his hands. The noodles were in a huge clump, stuck to the bottom of the pot.
"Tee," Artie hissed, pointing at the sauce. It was bubbling over, dripping down the sides of the little pan. I flicked the stove off, glaring at Artie for a second. He shrunk back in his chair, wheeling over to the meatballs in the microwave. They were fully cooked in a decorative bowl, "I guess I'm only good at cooking frozen meatballs." He mumbled, popping one in his mouth. I was hard at work, scraping the noodle clump from the bottom of Mrs. Abrams best pot. I got it up, holding the half-cooked ball of noodles. I ran water over it, trying to break up the lump. It wouldn't budge.
"I guess we're just having meatballs for dinner," I mumbled, throwing the lump in the garbage can.
"Sounds good to me," Artie said, putting the meatballs into two bowls, perfectly symmetrical. It was pretty funny to watch him mess up noodles but was so concerned about how the meatballs looked in the bowl. Oh, well, I guess. It didn't matter much now. As long as it was him and I, we were okay.
We ate on the couch, laughing as we watched a cheesy Lifetime movie on T.V. It was about an old woman very concerned about being a Broadway star. We said that if things never worked out for Rachel, that would be her. We called it, "The Old Rachel Movie". We let the pans soak in water so they would be easy to clean later, but I think we forgot about them. We sat there happily, occasionally stealing kisses from each other. Artie flipped idly through the movie channels, telling me what every single one of them was about. Artie was a big movie watcher and probably saw every movie under the sun.
"I'm bored," He groaned after a few hours of watching random movies and playing Monopoly, "I've got an idea." He said, shifting back in his chair and escaping to his room again, "Stay there!" He yelled from his bedroom, rolling back out with an acoustic guitar. He kept in his closet to protect it from damage. It was his "baby". I'm pretty sure he named it "Harold". Sitting in the middle of the room, he started to play, looking up at me occasionally. His voice joined in, light and meaningful.
Every time I see your smile, it makes my heart beat fast.
Although it's much to soon to tell, I'm hoping this will last.
Cause I just always want to have you right here by my side.
The future's near but never certain, at least stay here for just tonight.
I smiled like an idiot the whole time, captivated by Artie's perfect voice. He ended the song, smiling at me again. I got off of the couch, leaning over to meet Artie in a kiss. This one was soft, but I could feel everything that anyone could say to express how good love feels. It shot me up to the moon, crashing back down when we pulled away.
"Remember that time when you tried to teach me how to play?" I asked, getting a slow nod in return, "I've been practicing." I took the guitar from Artie's hands, sitting back down. I started playing a fast, summery tune, my voice beginning with the music.
If you're my boy, let's take a shortcut we remember
And we'll enjoy picking apples in late September like we've done for years
We'll take a long walk through the corn field and I'll kiss you between the ears!
If I'm your girl, swirl me around your room with feeling and as we twirl
The glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling will shine for us
As love sweeps over the room 'cause we tend to make each other blush
You make me blush!
The song was scarily accurate, remembering all of the times we picked apples off of the low trees in the fall and the long paths we would travel on through my uncle's corn maze. He put down turf in the paths, just so Artie could go through and not sink in the mud. I remember sitting in Artie's lap as he spun circles in his room, giggling the whole time. I could see Artie smiling out of the corner of my eye before I finished the song. He rolled up to me, kissing me harder this time. He scooped me up in his arms, leaving the guitar on the couch. We rolled back to his room, spinning circles for a second before I got up, glancing at the clock. 12:30. I didn't realize how late it was until Artie yawned, shifting himself into his bed. I didn't even care about changing before I got in the bed with him, our bodies intertwining perfectly.
"We really made a mess out there, didn't we?" I giggled, yawning again. I squished in closer, kissing Artie one more time before I buried my face in his chest.
"It doesn't matter," Artie replied, rubbing small circles on my back. He was right. It didn't matter. All that mattered was us. Even with the insanity of everything that happened, I knew we would hold true, "Hey, Tee?"
"What?"
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
I love you, too.
A/N: If you could possibly tell me what you think, that would be amazing. This fic is PURE FLUFF and that's all, so I'm sorry if it wasn't...plotty enough hahaa