From a prompt list on Tumblr. Requested by anonymous.
37: "Lie to me then."
If someone could explain to me why I'm such a cliched sap, that would be great.
"Lie to me then."
With the briefest glance over his shoulder, Arnold replied, "I don't think me lying is going to change anything Helga. We're busted."
Despite being in a crowded, dimly lit room, Helga had never felt so exposed. She sighed, "Crap."
This is what happens when a group of dumbass high school kids sneak into a supposedly abandoned, haunted house because freaking Geraldo had to share one of his famous Urban Legends. They end up stumbling across a drug dealing operation, flee, and get split up while running for their lives. The two blondes had no idea if anyone else had gotten ahold of the police yet, but they certainly couldn't. And honestly, their best play was sneaking into the club in the hopes of losing the dangerous criminals. However, it seemed like whatever luck they'd been having was rapidly running out as they had been backed into a corner. Literally.
"Crap," Helga repeated, and Arnold could hear her voice waver in fear. They hadn't been spotted.
Yet.
Arnold surveyed the scene, scanning the crowded space for any way of escape and was coming up empty. The only clear path would put them right in the path of the drug dealers they were trying to avoid. And they were closing in.
"Crap," Helga whispered sharply, "Arnold, wh-what are we going to do?"
Arnold faced her, and held her nervous gaze. And did the first thing that came to mind:
He kissed her.
She jolted in surprise, but he held his ground and brought his hands to her waist, turning them both at angle to keep their faces out of sight. Arnold was startled when Helga began kissing him back. Like, really kissing him back. She moved flush against him, and her hand slid up to cup the side of his face and Arnold got tingles from his head all the way down to his toes, and he gripped her tighter to him.
Wow.
Was this what kissing was supposed to be like? Not to say that he never enjoyed kissing in the past, but this was...something else. Maybe it was the intensity of the situation. Maybe it was Helga. Maybe it was both.
God, he just slipped his tongue in her mouth. He did it. He didn't even really personally like French kissing. Although, Helga was quickly changing his mind.
Wait, why was this happening? Why were they…
The objective flooded his mind, and his eyes flew open. While still trying to be conspicuous, Arnold tried to scan the room for the dangerous men. Which proved to be a far more difficult task to accomplish when Helga continued to kiss him and he was understandably distracted by it.
He caught sight of them. They had already moved past them, leaving a way out.
"Helga-mm!" Her mouth was on his before he could get anything else out, her body so firmly pressed to his that he saw spots in the corner of his vision. "Hel-" he was cut off again, and dammit if he still wasn't kissing her back like the horny teenager he was. He cupped her face, breaking their embrace with a final kiss, "Helga!"
"What!" She snapped, and about a second and half later, realization dawned on her, and she was staring at him with wide eyes.
He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward him, "C'mon! Now's our chance!"
Later, when everything had been resolved with the bad guys in jail and the minors as far away as possible from the police showdown to avoid further trouble with the authorities and their families, the two blondes had split off together when the group had dispersed.
Arnold had barely managed to escape Gerald's questioning gaze when Helga harshly smacked him in the arm.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"What do you think, Einstein?" Helga spat.
Instead of replying, Arnold kept his gaze forward and shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
He could feel Helga's eyes burning into the side of his face.
"Well?"
"Look," Arnold stopped walking and turned to face her, suddenly feeling completely exhausted, "It...it was just the first thing that came to mind. I didn't know what else to do, we were cornered."
"What a cliche."
"Well, it worked didn't it?"
Helga pursed her lips at that, refusing to acknowledge he was right. She spared him one last unreadable glance before turning and continuing on. They walked in silence all the way back to her stoop.
"Better not be expecting a goodnight kiss or anything, Football Head," Helga sneered, but there wasn't any real anger in it.
Arnold blushed despite himself, "Of course not."
"Right. See ya in the funny papers, Shortman."
When the door closed, and he heard the latch flip, Arnold turned and made his way home. And all the while, he couldn't help from thinking something:
Maybe he wouldn't mind kissing her again.