It occurred to Ariadne Arthur would need a towel but she wasn't sure if there were any clean ones in Dom's room. Grabbing a fresh one from the linen closet, she headed to the bedroom and found the door wide open with Arthur standing in the middle of the room.

He was removing his shirt, his back turned to her, and she stood transfixed at the sight of him. There were scars all over his skin, as if wounds branded on to his body. They didn't appear to be fresh marks but deep and dark enough that they were etched on to his back permanently.

There were so many questions running through her mind but she remained silent as he dropped the wet piece of clothing to the floor. She felt numb and confused one minute, absolutely terrified and angry the next. Someone hurt him. Badly. But who? Why? How could someone do that to another human being let alone Arthur? Her heart was pounding in her chest, so loudly she felt it would jump out of her body.

All of a sudden he whirled around to face her.

And her gaze dropped down to his chest. There were scars there as well.

Her heart ached at the devastation he must have suffered. She wanted to say something, ido/i anything, to make it better but she realized how ridiculous that sounded. There was nothing she could do for him.

"I thought you could use a towel," she said, locking eyes with him.

He stared at her with a blank expression.

Realising she would have to go to him, she approached Arthur hesitantly. His piercing gaze bore into her, and it felt as if her knees were ready to give way. His intensity was nerve-wracking, doubly more when she was standing directly in front of him. She handed him the towel.

Their eyes locked, they stood there. Silent and still. Time stopped, they were frozen in place.

"You're still drenched," he finally spoke.

She hadn't even noticed.

"I didn't think you could ever be speechless."

That made her smile. "I'm glad I can surprise you."

"Yeah, looks like I'm not the only one surprised."

Her focus fell to his chest again. She almost reached out to feel his scars with her fingers but stopped herself; just the ithought/i of touching him left her trembling – she didn't know what would happen if she actually did. But more than the fear of how much he affected her, she was worried about causing him pain. The wounds appeared to be old, but she didn't know if they still troubled him. "Do they hurt?"

"Not physically."

A sharp chill entered her bones; she wasn't sure if it was from the wet clothes or the subtle bitterness laced in his voice. The moment her eyes wavered up to meet his heated gaze, however, she felt comforted. "Who did this to you?"

A self-deprecating smile formed across his face. "Let's just say you're not the only one who had a difficult childhood."

His forced, light-headed tone of voice broke her heart, especially when she realized he was doing it for her benefit. Here she was, bitching and whining to him about her problems, when he had experienced something that was exponentially more horrible. She felt ashamed, embarrassed. No wonder he thought she was a childish brat - that's exactly how she had been behaving around him. "I'll give you some privacy," she expelled in a hurried tone of voice and rushed out of the room.

88888

By the time Ariadne had changed out of her wet clothes, Arthur was already waiting for her in the kitchen. He was dressed in one of Dom's shirts, and as he had predicted earlier, he really did look ridiculous in it. She almost broke into a smile at the sight of him but stopped herself in time; truth was, she could barely even look at him considering her immature behaviour.

"There you are. I was wondering where you ran off to."

She offered him a tense smile. "Thanks again for today."

"Want me to stick around until Cobb comes home?"

"No, that's fine. You've done enough already."

After a brief bout of awkward silence, he strolled out of the kitchen and to the front door. She followed behind him.

"It stopped raining," he said, opening the door.

"Yeah, looks like it."

He turned to her again. "Bye, Ariadne."

"See you."

She wondered how he could even stand to be around her for as long as he had.

88888

This was the fourth time she had made dinner for Dom in two weeks. The first night was a complete disaster: parts of the chicken were still raw, the vegetables were overdone, and she didn't even want to think about how badly she had burnt the dessert. Her second attempt was slightly better even though they still had to order in dinner. The food was actually edible the third time around but not very good. Tonight, however, things were finally perfect.

Ariadne set the table, musing about her current situation. Even though they hadn't discussed it at all, she knew Dom was really making an effort to change things for the better. He was actually coming home early every day, and during dinner he didn't avoid her or look as nervous and terrified as he had those first few days. Their daily dinner had settled into a comfortable routine, albeit a quiet one. They didn't say much, but she still enjoyed their time together.

A car pulled up; he was home.

Short while later, she heard Dom call her name.

"Ariadne?"

She headed to the family room, and stiffened as soon as she realized her father wasn't alone. Arthur was with him. Although she hadn't seen him since the last time they had spent the day together, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him.

"Hey," Arthur greeted.

"I hope you don't mind I invited him for dinner," Dom said, oblivious to the sudden tension that had crept into the room.

"No, of course not." Ariadne returned Arthur's small smile. "As long as you behave."

"I can't make any promises," Arthur sneered.

At least they could always snipe at each other; that was a relief.

"Do you feel like Italian? Or maybe Thai?" Dom asked. "We can order in-"

"No," she interjected. "I made dinner."

Her father's forehead furrowed with concern, which any other day would have made her laugh, but considering she'd spent half the day preparing and ensuring everything would be perfect, his response only irritated her. And with Arthur here, she was already on edge. "Don't worry. It's not raw, or burnt," she huffed.

"Well, I certainly feel reassured after that," Arthur deadpanned.

"I'm sure it'll be delicious," Dom said encouragingly, and headed to the dining room.

"Wow. He's willing to risk food poisoning for you," Arthur snarked, quirking his eyebrow. "Not sure I can do the same."

She glared at him. "Feel free to leave then."

"Ah, such wonderful hospitality."

"Shut up."

His impish grin threatened to break through her wall and make her smile but she fought the urge and hurried out of the room.

88888

They were seated around the table, with Ariadne sitting across from Dom and Arthur. Much to her relief, they seemed to be really enjoying her food – and not just pretending for her benefit. Dom had actually helped himself to a second serving which pleased her a lot.

Spotting the half-empty jug of water, she remembered the bottle of wine she had managed to get her hands on earlier today. She excused herself and went to the kitchen. Considering the heavy flirting she had to do to get the Pinot Noir, she couldn't believe it had escaped her mind.

The only good thing about being left alone for majority of the day was that it gave her plenty of time to go out and mingle with new people at the nearby college campus. Dom was under the impression she was there to audit classes, but instead she'd been hanging out with some frat boys the whole week, using them as a distraction to keep her mind off things she didn't want to dwell on. And thanks to one of them, she'd procured a bottle of Pinot Noir which she was eager to share with her father.

Unfortunately there were no wine glasses in Dom's kitchen. Oh well. She returned to the table with the wine and uncorked the bottle.

"Dom, I want you to try this. It's absolutely amazing," she grinned and started pouring the liquid in her father's glass. "And it goes really well with the chicken."

"Ariadne," Arthur said.

"Wait your turn, Arthur. You'll get some too."

"Ariadne, Cobb doesn't drink. He can't. He's in AA."

She glanced at her father who was suddenly tense, embarrassed, his face flushed red. "I'm so sorry... I... I didn't know," she stammered nervously. In a hurry to remove his glass, she knocked it aside and the liquid spilled on the table. "Fuck!"

Arthur and Dom both jumped up but Arthur was quicker, using napkins to dab the liquid.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated again.

"It's okay," Dom urged.

"I'm going to get rid of this," she said, and practically ran out of the room and into the kitchen bringing with her the bottle.

Alone, she took a swig to calm her nerves before dumping the rest of the liquid in the sink. Although she'd noticed the lack of alcohol in Dom's home, she'd just assumed it was because her father was hardly home. It never even occurred to her he was a recovering addict.

No wonder he always seemed nervous and on edge around her. Her antics were probably a big threat in his quest to maintain sobriety.

Why the hell did she always have to fuck things up?

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked from behind.

"I'm fine," she snapped without turning around to face him.

"Liar."

"Just leave me alone."

Ariadne waited for him to leave, but he didn't.

"It's not your fault. You didn't know," he said after a while.

"But I should have."

"I thought Dom would have told you."

She turned halfway and found him leaning against the kitchen island, a few feet away from her. "I guess he didn't feel comfortable sharing that with me."

"I think you intimidate him."

She snickered. "I doubt that."

"You're not the only one trying to make a good impression around here." Arthur smiled softly. "He's not easily flustered but you make him nervous."

"Let's hope I don't drive him to drink."

Arthur crept closer. "Is that what you're worried about?"

"I poured him a fucking drink!"

"Trust me, you're not the first. You certainly won't be the last. He knows how to deal when something like this happens."

She wanted to believe him, and looking into his eyes as he stared at her with the same hypnotic gaze she'd been trying to forget these past few days, she almost could. Once again she was struck with the haunting image of him, his every scar and wound visible and exposed to her, and even though he was fully clothed in front of her now, she could still see them on his skin as clear as day.

"Am I making you nervous?"

His words brought her out of her reverie and she locked eyes with him. "No."

He smirked. "Are you sure?"

"I'm embarrassed, not nervous."

"About what?"

"You know what."

"I really don't."

She chose her next words carefully. "I'm sorry I dumped all my problems on you. I'll try not to do it again."

His right eyebrow lifted up in surprise. "You needed someone to talk to. I don't mind."

"After what you've gone through... you shouldn't have to worry about me."

"And if I want to?"

She stayed silent, staring at him.

"You're allowed to feel the way you do, Ariadne. There's nothing wrong with that."

His gaze was compelling, his eyes piercing right through her. Her stomach quivered, and her heart threatened to explode out of her chest.

"And besides, the martyr act doesn't suit you."

"You prefer it when I'm annoying and selfish?"

"You're more interesting when you're being yourself."

"Even when I'm throwing myself at you?"

His eyes darkened, the tension between them now palpable.

"I didn't think I'd have to worry about that again."

"Why not?"

"I assumed the scars were a turn-off for you."

"You assumed wrong. I think you're beautiful."

When his gaze lowered to her lips next, her breath hitched in her throat, every nerve in her body acutely aware of him. She wanted to run from him, to hide, because the depth of these emotions terrified her, but she couldn't pull away. She couldn't fight it anymore. The force between them was stronger, pushing them towards each other.

He was standing close, so close that she could feel his breath on her face; she could reach out and very easily touch every mark on his skin, something she'd been aching to do since he revealed them to her.

"Ariadne?"

Arthur jumped back instantly upon hearing Dom's voice. His instincts were a lot quicker than Ariadne's who took a bit longer to recover.

"Is everything okay?" Dom asked, standing at the door.

"It's fine," Arthur replied for her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry about the wine," Ariadne said, feigning a bright smile for her father.

"I should have told you sooner," Dom said apologetically.

"Don't worry about it. Go back and take a seat. I still haven't served dessert."

"Actually, I have to go," Arthur said. "I need to be somewhere." He refused to look at her even as he turned in her direction. "Thanks for dinner, Ariadne. It was really great. I'll see you tomorrow, Cobb."

Dom and Ariadne stared after him as Arthur exited the room in a mad rush.

"That was strange," Dom commented when the front door shut shortly after.

"Guess he had to be somewhere."

"He told me he didn't have any plans tonight."

"Maybe he forgot."

"Arthur doesn't forget things."

Ariadne didn't respond, and she could only hope the suspicious glint in her father's eyes was just a figment of her imagination.