Arthur's hands curved around mine to steady my paint brush as I attempted to recreate a bowl of daffodils. It seemed easy-at first- after tonight, I couldn't trust myself to complete paint by number kit. Arthur, on the other hand, created a picture that could sell in any furniture store; his painting was near perfection: elegant daffiolds bursting with a radiant yellowness, delicate orange traces near the center, strong green stokes for stems and leaves floating in an orb filled with water. My painting was a jumble of colors like I played paintball, and lost in a massacre of paint, just a rainbow jumbled mess. Arthur –ever the gentlemen-requested another canvas for me. Tenderly, he placed a clean brush in my hand, twisting my fingers around the smooth glossy wood. His deep voice whispered instructions, his hand guiding me as firm strokes of colorful paint created yellow petals and leafy green steams.
"See you just need to relax, and trust me. My hand is merely your guide aiding you in creating something new."
His words created a new feeling in me, and it wasn't a picture of posies that made my. It's the wine causing me to leaning into his chest, inhaling his fresh clean scent reminiscent of a warm beach day, his warmth seemed to envelope me, resting my head on his chest as our hearts thumped in my ears. My skin tingled when our flesh met, and euphoria formed in my mind.
"So, you can lead me anywhere?"
"I'm guiding you to a new path and you just have to relax and trust your guide."
"Is my guide trustworthy, Riddlemaker?"
"Riddlemaker?"
"Yes, you're nothing except the crafter of tongue twisters."
"Just trust your instincts and everything will be grand in our merging worlds."
I was about to toss a snappy retort back at him when my stomach grumbled loudly, ruining the atmosphere between us.
"I need to feed my date," Arthur gushed in embarrassment.
Flinching in mortification, couldn't get away from my howling grumbling stomach, trapped with his arm around my waist. The ground wasn't going to open and swallow me, "Dinner would be good."
"Hot dogs or Burgers?"
"Burgers."
"I'm not cheap. I just don't want to pull the whole master date thing with you. Showing you a few of my hobbies."
"I'm your hobby?"
"No, an epic adventure with lasting changes for everyone, Gwen."
"I like adventures."
"Tie your shoes and hang on tight to me, we're about to swing over a few deep cliffs."
8*8
Arthur knew a greasy cheesy delicious hamburger joint not far from the studio. He laughed when my eyes bulged from brain freeze when I sucked down a chocolate shake too fast. He was a dipper of ketchup, and I poured it on everything. He loathed pickles-had to have one fault- his burger swamped with lettuce, mushrooms, peppers, onions, and various sauces: ketchup, mustard, and mayo. His mouth opened like he didn't have a jaw bone to take a bite of his super-sized burger. French fries gobbled away rapidly as we feasted on salt, condiments, carbs, and grease.
"How's your burger?"
"Pretty sublime."
"Best date place ever… first girl that I brought here was you, tonight. My Dad, not Uther, brought us here after he started dating Mom. Usually, I do the whole 300 dollar dinner thing."
"Stocks down?"
He snickered before he sipped his shake, "I can't impress you. I just need to be me, the real me with you. Nothing fake about you."
After a few conversations, he's ready to show me the real Arthur? Is Gwaine right? Is he after a few hours in my pants? Why do people say he wants to get into your pants? Unless the guy is an expert, your pants are long gone by the time you're messing around in bed. Wiping my hand across my forehead, something cool is smeared along my forehead. Please don't be snot… anything except snot. Arthur's eyebrows rose, his hand reach out with a napkin. Tenderly, he wiped my brow, holding my chin in his other hand.
"Ketchup."
"Such a dork," I mumbled.
"You're very dorkable and appealing. Love it when you're running scenarios in your mind, trying to decipher my underhanded motivations. You have like three scenarios in your brain. One created by that glossy hair mongrel, I bet he did terrible things to my big sister. Two created from your own overactive imagination. All three are wrong, and you won't know my motivations until I'm ready to reveal them. Stop playing mind games with yourself."
My hand encircled his wrist, my eyes rising to look into sapphire pool as his fingers stilled on my jaw. Another unknown emotion transpired between us. It was something hot and warmth, exciting and scary, and very much desired by me.
"What do you want from me? Don't be cheesy, and say everything."
"It's impossible for one person to provide everything for another. Too much pressure for a relationship to survive under excessive demands. I want you to trust me. I want to stop paying for Lancelot's sins against you. Okay, one word… openness."
"Oh. I don't punish men over Lance."
'"Last date before me?"
Brows knitted while thoughts raced around in my mind, thinking of a date.
"See you can't think of anyone. However, I'm not complaining that you don't have any unknown guy lurking in the background. What do you want from me, Guinevere? State your terms."
"Honesty."
"That's why I'm attracted to you so simple, yet you're so deeply complex. Finish your burger. It's getting late, and your father might roam around looking for you."
"He's probably with your sister."
Arthur shook his head," Gwaine met his match with Morgana. Are you busy Wednesday? Merlin wants to play laser tag. Before I forget, would you like to attend my other father's birthday party?"
"Yes, to Merlin. Are you sure you want to take me to your dad's party?"
"Yes, you can suffer with me as we bond over the madness. I believe in sharing my pain with others. You'll need an overnight bag and a fancy dress."
"Didn't say that I was going."
"Yes, you did. Eat up, Guinevere."
Eyeing him over my shake, I sucked cold frothy chocolate into my mouth; swirling it around my mouth in an attempt to slow down our conversation and ponder my next move. I can't make a connection with actions and words. A weekend away at his dad's house. We haven't even done anything dirty, yet.
"Stop analyzing, and eat."
"Yes, Daddy."
"I'm not your daddy because I desire to do so much to you. You can think about that for a bit."
I just suck deeper on my straw; Arthur leisurely finished his dinner without uttering another word. Have to eat to feed my butterflies.
8*8
Arthur has amazingly soft lips-pressing firmly on mine-his hand slipped along my thigh, fingers tracing soft circles as his tongue touched mine. He's like a rich midnight snack in your cold bed after reading a cheesy romance novel. My eyelids are glued to my face, I don't wake to open them, and ruin this flawless dream between us. My feet caressing each other; blood oozed in my veins signaling every nerve that pleasure is to be had in his arms. Instinct took over, lips parting wider, moans growing deeper, fingers sneaking into my panties, legs spreading as anticipation grew until I heard something banging on his car window. Arthur reluctantly pulled his hand from under my skirt. Demurely, I yanked my skirt down; adjusted my tops; and rubbed lipstick from Arthur's mouth.
"It's getting late, Gwen has to work in the morning," Gwaine yelled.
I thought it was a cop. That's why the flashlight never appeared in the window. Damn him… scones do not equal a blocker. Pot needed to go into our house, and allow me to finish my night with kettle.
"Your father won't be with us this weekend. I can wait."
Arthur pressed a wet kiss on my cheekbone. Sleep well."
"See you on Wednesday."
Arthur smiled at me; I swung my legs to the pavement, ignoring Gwaine, I used my butt to shut Arthur's expensive car door.
"Fast cars suit you… not a non-fast girl, got it?"
I didn't wait for Arthur's reply.
