IMPORTANT:
I thought I would tell you all that this story will have a happy ending. And let you all know that it will be bumpy for awhile because I don't like to give the characters what they want right away. I know it's been hard with Miles and I'm not trying to make anyone upset. There will be fun times in this story too. But as I said before this is a more dramatic coming of age type of story so not as much fluff. :)
I just wanted to let ya'll know in case you thought it wasn't your kind of story that way you're not waiting for something and then disappointed.
"Talking
Thinking
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE CHARACTERS OF HEY ARNOLD THEY BELONG TO CRAIG BARTLETT. HOWEVER THE LYRICS WRITTEN ARE MY ORIGINAL CREATION ALONG WITH THE PLOT IDEAS. DON'T STEAL. THANKS.
Arnold sat in his room as a lump formed his throat. It had been a few weeks since that conversation with his father. He'd been tinkering a little here and there trying to subtly change his father's mind to no avail. As with many of his father's ideas, Miles was stuck in place. Once his father rooted himself into an idea, nothing was moving him— save for chopping that tree down.
Arnold had tried pretty hard to bury those insecurities. Toss those thoughts down a well where they belonged. But something kept tickling the back of his mind. Not only had Harold's words gotten to him a little, but now his father's words added insult to injury.
Am I letting Helga make decisions for me? he sat in his bed, back against the wall.
That thought had come up so much, he decided that he should probably consult Gerald. The person who still knew him pretty well. Sure the years had caused some space in their relationship, but they still had each others backs when it counted the most.
He swallowed another sigh, and dialed his friend's number. He kept reminding himself it was stupid and that he shouldn't even be thinking about it at all. That he should have his mind made up. He loved Helga and they didn't always agree, but who really did?
He was making his own choices even if no one else could see it. Finally Gerald answered the phone.
"What's up, brotha?" he sounded slightly distracted.
"Can I talk to you a minute?"
"Sure, sure. Hang on—" he could be heard yelling at Timberly to get out of his room. Even after all this time she still had boundary issues, "Speak."
Arnold chuckled a little, "Your door broken?"
"I swear she picks the lock."
"Gerald, do you think Helga is right for me?"
"Not this again." he groaned.
I've brought this up before? Arnold paused, "What do you mean again?"
"Listen, Harold is a noncommittal jackass. If he wants to dick around, that's his business. He doesn't know shit about being in a real relationship."
"I guess."
"Not 'guess', he doesn't. As long as Pat-Helga makes you happy that's all that matters right? You think Phoebe and I are always rainbows and butterflies?"
"No, but I know you asked her out on your own. She didn't have to get you to think about it."
"Shit, I never really told you. Wasn't relevant— but honestly pretty much all of fourth grade we talked. Even hung out at the Cheese Festival."
"What?" the blonde leaned forward.
"Yeah, she kinda kissed my cheek then too." he sounded flustered, "And well, it got me thinking about her. I hadn't thought about her until she did that. She was a friend ya know, a classmate?"
"Right."
"So what if Helga confessed first? If you didn't really like her, you wouldn't have stayed with her this long. We're talking three years, man. No guy commits to a girl that long unless he likes something about her."
"But I haven't dated anyone else— how can I know for sure?" Arnold sighed, cinching his legs tight to his chest, "You never did tell me why you and Phoebe broke up back then?"
There was a small pause, "Well, truthfully, it was a mutual idea we had. We kinda thought maybe we should date around a little. Make sure it was solid, ya know?"
"But every girl I dated, Phoebe was always at the back of my mind. I tried to fight it, keep those thoughts away. How am I giving this girl or that girl a chance if I'm thinking about an ex?" Gerald let out an indignant chuckle, "It's because I had made my mind up about her a long time ago. Seeing other people just confirmed that fact for me."
Arnold let out an appreciative hum.
"It's cheesy I know, but I don't care if we're too young, or that she's going to a college upstate. All I know is I want to be with her and no one else. And I'm going to enjoy that feeling as long as I can."
"Wow Gerald, that's deep." Arnold sounded a little stunned, He's right...why am I worried what they think? Dad I understand...
"I have my moments. So what's the verdict lover boy?"
"Well, I do love her." Arnold sighed.
"See? Why you callin' me? You already know." Gerald laughed, "Did something happen?"
"Well—"
"Shit— what now?"
"It's not her. It's my Dad."
There was a stark silence on the other end. A small rattling of the door as there seemed to be another Timberly disturbance.
"He said, I should break up with her because she controls too many of my decisions." Arnold clenched his hand against his leg, "That I can't be focused on a good career because I'm worried about being with her."
"No way." there was a small gasp in Gerald's voice.
"He said I was throwing away my future." The words were bitter on Arnold's tongue.
"Damn, no offense, but your dad has some issues."
"He's just worried I guess—"
"You remember the cotton cap?"
"Sure—"
"Or the fact he wouldn't let you ride your bike for a month after that?"
"Yeah but—"
"Face it man, your Dad overreacts—"
"Gerald, I know that. But he had some good points too, and it just made me wonder. That's all."
"Yeah, I get that. But like I said before, it's your life. Your dad doesn't know any better than Harold—"
"That's kind of not fair—"
"You wanted my opinion, that's it." Gerald sighed again, "Helga does seem to be there when you really need her to be. And you do seem happy with her. The rest is up to you, man."
"Right." Arnold sighed, Well, that wasn't much help...
"I gotta get going. Mom wants help with dinner. You good?"
"Yeah, I'm good. Thanks, Gerald."
Later that evening, Arnold had invited Helga over to work on homework together. He had convinced her to stay for dinner.
"Honey? Would you come help me with dinner?" Stella said sweetly.
Miles looked ready to stand up and leave the table, but Stella corrected herself.
"I actually meant Arnold. Come help your Mom." The older lady was beaming.
Arnold hesitated. He glanced at the table. Miles sat on one side while Helga was across from him. She was focused on her homework on the table. Oblivious to his struggle.
"Well come on dear, she's not going anywhere." She giggled, waving her son closer.
He forced a chuckle, "You're staying for dinner right, Helga?"
"Yeah, yeah sure." Helga waved him away.
Arnold hesitated another second before reluctantly following his mother into the kitchen. She started pulling ingredients from the fridge and placing them on the counter.
The teen stood stiffly nearby.
Stella glanced back at him. She noticed him staring through the archway and trying to sneak a peek around the corner.
"What in the world has got you jumpy?" Stella walked to his side, and offered him an apron.
"Nothing." Arnold forced a grin, It's silly, but I'm worried about her being alone with Dad…
He took the apron and started working alongside his mother. A tense undercurrent in his form.
Stella glanced at him again, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"Yeah, sure, Mom." He couldn't look at her, I wish that were true...sorry Mom…
Meanwhile in the dining room, Helga busied herself with her homework. Miles still sat nearby.
"So do you always cut corners in your work? Or is today a special occasion?" Miles' voice was stilted, his fingers drummed on the table.
"I'm sorry what?" Helga glanced at him briefly before looking at her paper again.
"I saw you were showing Arnold a way to cut corners and miss out on the point of this assignment." He held the paper up.
"I wouldn't say miss the point." she shot him a hard look, "If you get the assignment done, and learn the jist of it, I don't see how that's detrimental."
"If it wasn't important, you wouldn't have an assignment on it."
She snorted laughter, "Yeah right, bucko. There's been plenty of worksheets where we never touch the concept again. He'll be fine."
"I get that things are a little different at your house, but let me explain some things while you're here." His voice was sharper now.
Criminy this guy is off his rocker...She scoffed again and wouldn't look up.
"You know, I wanted to like you." He ran a rough hand through his hair, "I appreciate that you helped Arnold save us from the jungle. But we can't keep using one good thing you've done from the past to justify all the bad things you bring to his life now."
"Excuse me?" She finally looked up, scowl deepening.
"I just don't like the way he is when he's with you and if you expect to keep coming around here, you're going to have to straighten up."
"Straighten up? I'm sitting here doing homework. What threat am I to his future?"
"I hate to say it-"
"No, you don't. Don't lie." She stood up, hands pressed into the table, "It's one thing to despise me, but don't act it's hard for you to do. I've seen how you look, and sound, sometimes when I'm around. I'm not stupid."
"Well, if you understand as much then you realize why I have an issue with your ways."
"If you keep stifling him like you are, he'll never figure out what he needs to do."
"He doesn't need to figure out anything. If he'd just do what I say-"
"Then what? Miles 2.0? He's his own person. You're not giving him any credit at all-"
"As long as I'm in his life, I'll be calling the shots. You're both too young to know any better."
"Adults don't know everything." Helga gripped the table, I had no idea he hated me so much...why did I think it could be different with his parents?
"Helga, please consider bringing a better attitude next time or I will be forced to keep you two apart. Permanently."
His words stopped her cold. Her expression stunned, fingers slowly clenching, "Fine, Miles. I'll be on my way."
She swallowed heavily. She wouldn't let him see her flinch. It had been bad enough for him to call her out, but to threaten that on top of everything else.
It crushed her a little.
"Helga where are you going?" Arnold set the dish down on the table.
"I've lost my appetite." She said briskly as she stood by the front door. She tugged her jacket on before pulling open the door.
Arnold glanced at his father and back towards her. A look of panic captured him. He darted towards the door.
Helga was already at the bottom of the stoop before he caught up to her. She was content to keep walking, but his hand pulled her back.
She tried to force a scowl but her veneer cracked. A trace of pain on her face.
"What did he say, Helga?" He said quietly.
"I just wanted to head home." She scoffed, "No big emergency-"
"Don't lie to me." He let out a harsh sigh, eyes sharp, "He said something. I know it."
"Oh, you're so sure, huh?" She gave him a soft shove, "When were you going to tell me Pops has a major issue with me?"
His eyes widened, "What exactly did he say!"
"Quit getting bent out of shape. Like you care-"
"Of course, I care!" He motioned to his chest.
"Yeah right Arnoldo, you practically grovel at their feet for acceptance-"
"What did he say?" He pointed with a narrow gaze.
"He practically hates me. Alright!" She threw her arms.
"He doesn't hate you!"
"He said he'd keep us apart if I didn't behave. I wasn't doing anything wrong." she bit back her feelings.
Arnold placed a hand to his brow, "He's just...threatened by you-"
"You knew and kept that fact to yourself!?"
"I was trying to fix it. I never wanted you to worry." He stared at the pavement, Great job...you really fixed it! As if she needed any more reasons to question your feelings...
"What's his damage anyway?"
"My Mom loves you, my grandparents too. He just- uh is protective I guess."
"Protecting you from what exactly? He literally said I was helping you cheat on the assignment."
"What? Geez," he planted a hand in his hair, "Come back with me, and we'll all talk, okay?"
"No thanks. I've had enough bullshit for one day." She continued stomping down the road and never once looked back.
Arnold stood rooted in place. His mind a confliction of desires once more. He wanted to run after her. Try and convince her further even if he knew that she was past listening. That reasoning with her would take a few days.
He felt compelled to question his father. Get the true words he spoke. Demand that he apologize but he knew there was no way he could do that. They were still his parents after all. The people he wanted the most for so long.
And people he still desired the approval of, despite his father's unreasonable behavior. Ever since that chat about Sally Hetridge, Arnold knew it would come up again, he'd just hoped that his father wouldn't blatantly say it to her face.
"What exactly was that about?" Arnold asked once he'd returned to the dining room.
Miles still sat at the table while Stella was still in the kitchen. The man shot him a hard look, "I simply told her that if she can't adhere to our rules here, then I don't want her around you."
"And what rule did she break? Don't want her around? You said as long as I'm taking my studies seriously and picking a practical career, that it's fine if she stays in my life. What's changed now, Dad?"
"Don't take that tone with me mister."
"Boys, what is this all about?" Stella walked in to place another dish on the table, "Where's Helga?"
The two men gave each other a calculating look.
Arnold turned towards his mother, a forced smile on his face, "She had something come up at the shop. She's sorry she had to leave early. Maybe next time."
He gripped the table edge as a molten heat burned his collar. A sick wretch in his gut. He didn't want to lie. Hated to lie to his mother most of all.
Maybe a close second.
Lying to Helga was still the most upsetting.
"Oh, that's unfortunate." Stella frowned and then looked between them again, "Then what are you arguing about so loudly in here?"
"Yeah Dad, what was it again?" Arnold couldn't help but say, a wounded look peeked through his veneer.
Miles cleared his throat, "I was just sure I knew the answer to this problem and Arnold was correcting me."
Arnold felt rigid at the table. The anger in his gut rising to the top.
Miles shot Arnold a look that suggested the conversation wasn't really over, "I guess he's right this time."
"Well, come on then Arnold. I still need help you know?" Stella waved him on.
Arnold gave a firm nod, "Coming Mom."
Arnold was barely into the kitchen before his mother turned on him.
"You don't honestly expect me to believe that do you?"
"Believe what exactly?" He grit out.
"What were you fighting with your father about?" Her gaze hot, a tap in her foot as she waited.
"It's fine Mom. It's just him reminding me to get homework done on time. That's all."
"Did Helga really have to go to the shop?"
"Yeah, that one's true." He said quickly, ignoring the scrutinizing gaze his mother wore, Sorry Mom...
She leaned forward and pulled the teen to her chest, a hand thick in his hair, "I'm sorry Arnold. I really wish you and your father would get along better."
"Its not your fault, Mom." He sighed letting himself melt into her embrace. His face buried into her shoulder.
"You know, if you never tell me what's going on, I can never help you."
He stayed silent knowing full well that anything he said could be misconstrued or even continue the argument. The tension that always seemed to swirl around all of them.
He was glad they were back in his life. Ecstatic still sometimes. But he never could've imagined that having his parents back could cause him such stress.
He never believed it would be all sunshine and rainbows as everyone seemed to chastise him for, he even argued with his grandparents sometimes.
It was just the fact that they were at such odds with each other. That his parents agenda didn't line up with his at all. He never would've expected that.
Arnold laid in bed. The darkness of the night permeated his room. The sky was murky letting no starlight in. Even the city lights seemed to be darker than usual.
A few raps on his door made him tense, "Yeah? Come in."
His father lurked in the doorway. A meek expression on his face. He crossed the room slowly to sit on the edge of the bed.
"What?" Arnold forced his voice calm, an edge of irritation peeked out.
"You know, I just want what's best for you. I'm not trying to be a jerk."
"Try harder."
Miles brow creased, "Ever since you were a little baby I imagined all the great things you could become."
"Then why don't you trust me?" Arnold sat up, "I know I've fibbed about some things and I'm sorry. But I've been making decisions before you were here. Grandpa never worries about me."
Miles sighed, "I'll admit sometimes I go overboard. Maybe I overreacted this afternoon. But she was just so defiant at my suggestion, it surprised me."
"Helga can be confusing sometimes." The teen relented, What does he really want? Why is he here? Another restriction maybe?
Miles put a comforting hand on his son's shoulder, "Tell you what, next time she comes over I'll apologize. Alright?"
"You will?" He seemed guarded.
"Yup, scout's honor."
"And you came to this conclusion on your own?"
Miles let out another sore chuckle, "You caught me. Your mother figured out what happened. And I admitted my guilt."
Arnold watched his father for a moment. He wasn't completely satisfied with his answers but he knew it would have to do for now. He realized then that the only solution to their problem was for him to gather up the courage to ask for what he wanted. To ask them about what Helga had encouraged him to do about going to her house.
The next day Arnold paced his room briefly. He mulled over the words he wanted to say. He kept telling his brain it was as simple as telling them exactly what he wanted to do, and then they would give them their answer.
He would just have to accept that answer.
Risk the chance that it was against what he really wanted.
He shook away his brain's attempts to veil frequent events at her house as a necessity for school work. He knew that would never work anyway.
Finally, content with what he was going to say, he jumped down the stairs. As his feet hit the last stair in the stairwell, he mentally braced himself to speak with his parents.
He could hear their voices lingering in the kitchen. Seemingly their most popular hang out spot. The voices of his grandparents right along with them.
He hesitated, This is complicated enough...I don't need this causing an argument between them...but I don't want to lose nerve either...
His feet dragged his body into the kitchen archway. Fingers fumbling with each other as he took a breath.
"Mom, Dad?" he tried to force his voice brighter.
His presence drew the attention of the room. All of his guardians suddenly became interested in what he had to say. It made him feel like he was on stage again and this performance could wreck his reputation.
"I would like to visit Helga at her house sometimes. Just for a few hours or so—"
"And what would you need to do there, that you can't do here?" Miles the first to speak up with a scrutinizing stare. His mother mirrored a similar look.
"Well, I..." he felt his mouth run dry, I didn't think of another reason!
"You two are paranoid," Phil interjected in the tense moment, "They don't need to be at her house to do that thing you're worried about—"
"Yeah, but it makes it a lot harder if they're in my sight."
"Besides, we already had the Talk. He promised to be careful and I trust him."
"The Talk? What kind of talk Dad?" Miles shot his father a panicked look.
Arnold's hands covered his face, "Just forget I said anything. I just wanted to spend some time with her without interruptions, that's all."
Miles motioned to his son as though that was evidence of guilt, "You see?"
Stella shook her head, still not sure what to think. Gertie strangely had no commentary to add to the matter. Miles and Phil seemed ready to battle it out over what was presumed to be right.
I have to try a little harder for Helga's sake...Arnold took a deep breath, "At school we have all our friends around, and we want to talk to them. And then after school we have clubs and the band. And when we come here, we talk a little, but you guys are here so it always becomes a group conversation."
Phil motioned toward the boy again as though that countered his point, a wry chuckle on his lips, "You see? They just want to talk."
"And yes, I'll admit. I'd like to kiss my girlfriend without eyes on my back." The teen scrunched his eyes tight waiting for a blowup at any second.
"They don't need to do that kind of talking." Miles twisted in his seat to point at Phil.
"You really miss her, huh?" Stella started slowly, knowing what reaction it would garner.
"Yeah, and when I promised you guys, I meant it." Arnold sounded very tired at this point.
"Well, how about, if you go to her house, it can just be a few times a week. Be home by eight o''clock, and no staying the night."
"That goes without saying!" Miles clutched his chest, eyes wide.
"I wouldn't ask for that." Arnold waved them down, Will they ever take my word about that...
Stella gave her husband a playful pat, "Let's give him one more chance, and if he messes up, then we'll talk about punishment?"
Miles looked wounded at this point, like his wife was going against his decree. The blonde man grumbled to himself before folding his arms in defeat. A meager 'Fine' on his lips.
Arnold bounced at their declaration, "I promise I won't let you down."
Phil approached Arnold, and reached into his vest, a small box in his fingers, "Don't forget these."
The teen blushed harshly, he pushed the item away from himself, "I don't need those Grandpa."
"Dad!" Miles scolded, burning equally red.
"What? Just playing the odds, ya prude. I don't trust him that much." a cackle in the old man's voice as he placed the box on the table and went back to what he was doing before.
Miles and Arnold shared another embarrassed glance before they parted ways. The box left on the table as if it was infected. The ladies in the room laughed at the awkward situation.
A few years ago Bob's Beeper Emporium finally started to balance out financially. They were by no means at the top of his game anymore. And the chances of them affording their nice home ever again a slim chance on the horizon.
But luckily enough for them, and at Helga's prodding, she'd finally gotten the curmudgeon to rent a small town home that was squished between three others. Small gaps between the buildings made for close neighbors.
But anything was better than living in that store another second. No, Helga was quite pleased with their tiny two bedroom townhouse. The rooms stacked on top of each other giving them a small reminder of the place they left behind.
Her father's frequent business trips that always seemed to tote Miriam along, made her house too tempting. And with the clearance from Arnold's parents that it was okay to spend time at her house a couple times a week, it was too much of an invitation to ignore.
She had no clue how intoxicating she was to him. She could tell him to leap off a real bridge and he'd probably do it.
He hated to admit to himself that his parents were right. That his parents knew he'd eventually lose control. That by trying to protect him, they only expedited it. Only pushed him further over that edge until he was dangling by a thread off a cliff face.
By the time they got to her house, they'd barely made it up the stairs before they were a flustered mess of kisses and hands. Pushing and bumping each other the way into her room.
The thought of being alone together- no interruptions— it dialed up their teenage desire to 1000.
Her body pressed into his warmth as they slowly melted together. Sometimes when they were alone he'd turn her against the wall or lay her back on the bed. She seemed to enjoy this side of him more than she let on. Often letting him drive the pace.
He'd get on top of her and rub against her in a needy way. They were always so close. It always seemed like he was ready to take her, make her his, but something always seemed to pull him back.
Make him wait.
He'd never tell her what.
Merely kiss her senseless again until she stopped asking.
Until she couldn't ask because he was too intoxicating to fight with anymore.
She figured he was waiting for something significant or maybe he had something special planned. But some part of her was drowning in anticipation.
She was always so ready.
Sometimes going so far as to tug all of his clothes off. Leaving him in his boxers and stroking his need through his clothes. He'd choke and let his head fall into her shoulder.
A low groan bellowing from him as if she was torturing him with the idea. His teeth grazed her neck as he nipped and kissed trying to regain possession over her.
But she was stronger than him, she knew exactly how to keep him right where she wanted him.
She always did.
A wry smirk turned into a chuckle on her lips as more throaty moans left him.
"Helga, we have to stop. I can't—" he could barely breathe out.
Her hands slipped under his boxers and she finally felt him. A hazy wave crashed over her at the sensation of his warmth, and smoothness against her palm. The little sounds he was making driving her unhinged with desire.
"Oh, come on, Arnoldo! Everyone else has already done it—"
"So?" he tried to sound defiant, but it came out even more submissive than before.
"So I'm saying, what are we waiting for? We've been together longer than anyone—"
"So?" his voice hungrier now as though she was shattering his resolve. The kisses he started planting on her neck any indication.
"Let's do it, right now." She let out a breathy plea of her own.
He pushed her against the bed. A startled, but pleased moan on her lips as he reclaimed his spot above her. He rubbed himself against her dragging more beautiful sounds out of her.
"You want it really bad, don't you Helga?"
"Oh, so bad." Her voice borderline shrill as she arched into him.
"Then I'll give it to you." His voice sounded rough.
She let out a pleased cry as though she'd finally got her way. She'd finally drawn him over to her camp.
He sat back over her with his legs caging her in place. A fevered look of anticipation on her features. His eyes combed over her waist.
Damn, how he'd wished she's quit wearing skirts.
It made her irresistible.
In a decisive tug, he pulled her underwear down and pushed her skirt up.
She watched him with a murky expression. Even now, everything felt like it was taking too long.
And then she felt it.
His thumb brushed against her wetness. A low whine as his prize.
"What are you—" her words cut off by her own gasps.
His finger rubbed that wet area with more intent. Smoothly dipping into her and over every fold of her.
"I thought we were—"
"Not yet, Helga. Please wait on me a little longer." His words were serious, but a smirk played on his lips.
"Haven't I waited long—" and then she found herself unable to spew any counterargument.
His hands worked their magic and took away her ability to speak in the best possible way. Fingers pumping into her at a breakneck pace, his thumb never resting as he stroked her clit. A mix of high and low chords flowed from her lips as though he was playing a song.
The kind of music only he could make her create.
He laid next to her. Having made her thoroughly spent. He laid on his stomach as she rested her head against his back. Another pleased sigh left her.
The afternoon was still young. He glanced at the clock and noted that it was edging closer to five o'clock. Plenty of time to spend with her before he had to head home. His parents always expected him no later than eight and he was diligent in keeping that mark.
"You sure you don't want me to touch you?" She said softly, her fingers trailed his bare back.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He let out a hefty breath, chin resting over his folded arms.
His face almost drowned into her pillow. The scent of wildflowers intoxicated him again.
"Helga, you think I could have one of your shirts?"
She snorted, "They won't fit you."
"I love the way you smell. The way everything smells in here." He buried his face into her pillow as though to prove a point.
"Alright, weirdo." She rolled her eyes, "Arnold?"
"Hmm?" His voice dreamy as though he weren't fully there.
She sat up, and tugged a loose shirt on. She rubbed her arms a moment as she thought about what she wanted to say.
"Arnold, do you want me?"
"What?" He sat up, face turned so fast his neck just about snapped.
"You kind of act like you do, but I..." She stared at the bed sheets, "But you never say it, and you never let me touch you the same way."
"You just did a few hours ago." He muttered, a hand planting into his hair knowing full well it would live there if that conversation started over again.
"Not the same way you touched me." Her voice tart, "Why? Just give me whatever weirdo reason is in that Football Head of yours. It'll make me feel better at least."
"Because," his voice sore as he turned to flop into the pillow, face barely visible, "If you do that to me, I won't be able to stop."
"But why do you want to stop at all?" Her voice a low whine, "It makes me feel like I'm the only one who wants this."
He let out a hoarse breath, voice muffled by the pillow, "I love you, Helga. Can we please not talk about this again?"
She folded her arms, a sour pout on her lips, "You're not fair. You know that?"
There were a few moments of sore silence between them. Their mutual breathing was the only disturbance in the quiet room. She let out another gruff sigh and mussed his hair roughly. Her hands tucked into the crook of her knees.
He let out a frustrated growl, pushing himself to sit beside her, "Why can't you just enjoy us being next to each other?! Why?"
"I told you why, ass."
He turned her chin gently, "If you touch me, will it get you to stop this silliness?"
"Silly!? You know what— just fucking leave. I don't want to see you—"
His hungry kiss cut her off. Hands gripped her arms as he pushed her back into the bed. Her body hotly protested while encouraging moans slipped out. The heavy weight of his hips pressed her down.
He pulled away from her with a pop. A heady gasp on her lips, gaze burning with arousal.
"Fine, you want to touch me so bad— then do it." He pulled her hand to rest on his member pressing into her with a reckless buck.
"Arnold..." her voice low as she squeezed him roughly.
"Since you want more from me—since I'm not giving you enough—"
"Hey, don't be like that!" She let go of him like she'd been burned.
"No, you told me this is important to you. That I'm not being fair." He tugged her hand back towards him.
"Well, you're not!" Her gaze sharp as she wrenched out of his grasp, "I let you do whatever you want to me and then you deny me the same privilege."
"You aren't being fair either, Helga. I told you I don't want to do it and you keep pressuring me. It doesn't matter my reason." His gaze was equally hot as he gripped the sheets.
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head, "You're right. You're always right, Arnoldo."
"Don't you dare. Don't you dare make this about you." He pointed with an exasperated breath on his lips.
She placed a tender hand on his chest. This small action halted his aggressive stance.
"I'm being serious, Arnold." She couldn't look at him, "I'm sorry I keep pressuring you—"
"Then stop already! Why—" he felt himself winding up again.
"I'm just ready for it to be over with! Alright!?" She blurted out, effectively cutting him off.
His brows tilted, body slowly melting to sit next to her again, "What?"
A slight tremble in her body as she spoke again while her eyes drifted around the room, "I've heard so many things from our classmates and I just—"
"Hate feeling left out?"
"No. I mean, kinda."
"Then what is it?"
"I keep thinking that you'll leave. And the longer we wait, the longer I don't have an answer to that question."
"Why would I leave? That doesn't make any sense." He was ready to laugh, but upon gazing at her serious expression he realized, she really believed that.
"First of all," he tilted her face to gaze upon him, a delicate look in his eyes, "I'm not going anywhere. Secondly, you think after one time that's going to be enough for me?"
She steamed at his sudden forwardness. She had yet to hear him voice that sort of thing out loud.
"Yeah, okay. A few times and then you leave." She jerked out of his grasp.
"Why would I leave, Helga?"
"Because what guy wants to only be with one girl his whole life? That's stupid. Eventually you'll want variety and resent me."
"You could dress up you know?" He stuck his tongue out, She's clearly overheard the other boys talk in gym class...
"Hopeless."
"Helga, I'm sorry. This isn't silly. I had no idea you were worried about something like that."
"Yeah well, I worry about it a lot, ok?"
"You wanna know why I want us to wait so bad?" He sighed, She's going to laugh at me for sure...
"Criminy, yes!" She threw her arms eliciting a chuckle from him.
He turned red, "You'll probably think it's silly, but I always imagined we'd wait 'til College."
"College? You really want to wait that long, huh?" her voice had a tinge of disbelief in it.
"Well, I kinda promised Grandpa I wouldn't do anything stupid related to that topic—"
"Hello, ever heard of birth control!? Which I'm on. We can use other stuff too, worrywart."
He chuckled, "Come on Helga, I want to wait. I said I love you. Isn't that enough?"
She let out a heavy breath, a bitter twinge in her voice as though she might argue more, "Fine, I guess it'll have to do."
"Please, don't be like that." he sounded tired.
She glanced at the hurt expression he was wearing. A spike of guilt punctured her chest, Geez I'm terrible...he looks so upset because of me.
His meek expression still gazed at her waiting to see what she would do next.
"Can I please do something for you?" Her voice became impossibly soft. An octave he'd never heard from her.
He let out a rattling sigh, smirk on his lips, "What, Kitten?"
She tugged on his boxers. He sighed thinking that they were heading down that path again. Shock overtook him as she covered him up instead. He raised a brow at her.
She frowned as she pushed off the bed, "You're bad enough on your own, don't need him staring too."
He let out a chuckle as he watched her walk to the dresser. Her arms flailed about as she riffled through the drawers. Muttering to herself as she tried to relocate the item in her search. Moving on to the nightstand, she looked further.
Finally her hand struck gold, a wad of paper raised high out of her nightstand. She walked to face him again. A nervous tremble in her form. Wearing only a shirt, and never bothering to re-find her underwear.
The sight of her was a little amusing. As if, per usual, she was only exposing a part of herself at a time, but never all of herself the whole time.
Helga said, "This is something I've been working on that's meant for you. Not the band so much."
His brows raised at this admission, but said nothing. Eyes focused on her as he bit his lip. She let out a steadying breath.
"Too young to drive cars, don't have any money." there was a small bounce in her voice, "Too young for bars, but I love you honey!"
He leaned forward a grin started to form. Her blush only grew at his attentive gaze.
"I may drive you crazy, and you may turn me upside down." shyly she held the paper to cover her gaze, "But I think you're amazing. We're going to tear up this town."
"Helga, that was so fun!" He stood to meet her.
"Yeah, well it's not finished yet. And I think it needs something, but I'm not sure what."
He watched her curiously as though an idea would come to him at any moment.
He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, "I'm sure you'll think of it when the time's right."
"I meant it." she met his passionate gaze, her hand trailed down his arm, "You're amazing, Arnold. I'll try to be more patient with what you want."
He felt air escaping at her meek gaze. Helga being apologetic was a sight to behold. A long silent moment dragged out between them, neither one seemed to know how to speak once more.
But somehow, as usual, she seemed to know what they needed before he did.
"You hungry? Pizza rolls and a monster movie?" She motioned towards the door with a goofy grin.
"You had me at pizza rolls!" He practically bounded out the door.
She laughed hot on his tail.
They spent the next couple hours cuddled on her couch with the tv on. He felt her drifting off to sleep on his chest. He sighed with the sore reminder that he would have to leave her alone in the apartment again.
As he slowly shifted out from under her, he tried to think of a way he could comfort her without being there. He grabbed his shirts.
I brought an undershirt...he realized with a happy smirk.
Carefully he placed his flannel shirt over her shoulders. She shifted slightly in her sleep with a small coo on her lips. He blushed watching her sleep for a moment. She looked so adorable and delicate in that moment.
A reminder to him that she was still a girl under all those claws and teeth. That she had concerns just as much as anyone even if she hid them better than most.
He slowly locked the door as he left, She has those concerns because of me...because I'm too much of an idiot chicken to explain to her what's really going on…
He noted the time and realized he would be late getting home by about fifteen minutes. He cursed his luck. He knew it wasn't a lot of time, but they had an agreement and he was breaking it again no matter how unintentional.
He didn't even want to think about trying to explain that to his father.
He took off in a light jog hoping the speed would help him make it across town in time. He didn't want to chance taking the bus and having it stop too many times.
He glanced up at the street lights, And my Dad keeps pushing the issue more each day...
The conversation that plagued them pushed to the back burner once more.
As he walked up the stoop to the Boarding House, his hand gripped the door for a moment, I don't know what to do anymore… I feel trapped...
Poor Arnold can't catch a break. But maybe his luck is looking up now?