A/N

I describe a house later on. Use this for an example of the interior/exterior: https//residential/2765636#p3 (I googled mansion for sale and found one I liked decently well). Look through that link after I talk about a black BMW M6. This is also the first description of Arya eating and I decided to not make her vegetarian. She doesn't know what it feels like to be with a conscious as it dies in this, so I couldn't find a reason to keep that in her character. So, I'm thinking about adding a small amount of "magic" mainly to heal, just because I think it would be interesting since modern AU's don't have magic. Idk, it's up to you if you guys think it's a good idea. Also, I had two big hesitations with this chapter, both at the end. I'll explain why I made those two decisions at the end. You'll know them when you read them. Without anymore rambling, RR please!

Chapter 7

Arya

It was a struggle for him, walking to the GT-R. She stayed with Eragon the day after the accident, Sunday, and that following Monday, thanks to her mother's pull on the school board. Her mother got her out all week, too, saying Arya should help him adjust since he knew her the best of everyone in Varden City. During those two days, they slowly warmed up to each other. They became friends rather than acquaintances, but she often berated herself after saying things that were too emotionally driven.

The doctor refused to allow Eragon to leave unless he stayed with someone. Luckily, her mother offered for him to stay at their house before Arya could ask for permission.

She was under his left arm, supporting as much of his weight as she could. "C'mon Eragon, man up!" she joked as they stepped off the curb, causing him to wince. Despite her jab, he was doing surprising well, especially considering this was the first time he has walked in two days.

He only gave her a joking look and said "why don't we swap bodies for a few days?"

She laughed as a reply came to her mind. "You would like that, wouldn't you?" But as the words left her mouth, she yelled at herself in her head. She became emotionless again.

They were only a couple of feet from her car. He had formulated his reply, saying "yeah, there are a few benefits. The biggest being the lack of broken ribs, with a secondary being a gor-" he caught himself, then looked at her, hoping she didn't notice his slip up. He must have realized she had her mask on, because his face fell slightly as she helped him lower into the car.

She was too focused on her thoughts to notice his words. The last time I joked like that was with Fäolin. Why is he of all people bringing this out of me? That isn't me anymore, is it? she asked herself. Her previous sureness of herself had slipped slightly over the past two days. She stepped into the car and began driving to her house.

She was snapped from her thoughts as Eragon spoke. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"No thanks," was all she replied with, not wishing to talk about Fäolin.

"Trust me when I say another outlook can help."

She looked at him, unsure if she should tell him. I've never confided in anyone before and I've been okay, one voice argued, bringing up a great point. Another rebutted with and how has that benefited me in the past? The war raged in her mind. They were fifteen minutes from her house. Why not? the latter voice said, deciding her decision.

"I've never been a social person. When my dad died, it didn't help. I closed off to everyone, refusing to speak about any sort of feelings. Then, at his funeral, along came Fäolin. My mother forced a bodyguard on me and he is who was chosen. He graduated the May before my dad died. I was sixteen at the time and my world crashed down on top of itself. But then there was Fäolin. I hated him at first. My mother forced me to have him protect me. But we grew close. Very close. He was the only person I've ever opened up to…" no longer the only, she thought "...and then, one afternoon, we were walking back to the car when a black, 1996 Porsche 911 screeched by, sending bullets directly towards us. Doing his job, he tackled me to the ground." She stopped, the next words were nearly impossible to speak. Suddenly, a hand was on hers, which was resting on the armrest. She looked to see Eragon's warm, brown, empathetic eyes staring at her. She gave him a sad half-smile before looking back to the road. "He took five .45 rounds to the back, all hitting non-vital organs. He bled out in my arms." She moved her hand under the guise to shift up.

Eragon seemed oblivious as he said "I'm so sorry, Arya."

Arya shook her head. Why not? she argued with herself again, because now he feels sorry for me. People aren't supposed to feel sorry for me.

She turned the radio on, to distract herself from her thoughts, as the song Heavy by Linkin Park came on.

I'm holding on

Why is everything so heavy?

Holding on

So much more than I can carry

She turned it off immediately. Eragon looked at her, a sad look in his eyes. Arya saw him in her peripheral vision, but didn't acknowledge him. Shouldn't she be the one feeling sorry for him? she thought, thinking of the losses he's been through. He's more concerned about me than himself right now. They sat in silence until she turned into her driveway as Eragon stared in awe of the house, a massive gate with an elegant D blocking the path. Arya stopped in front of the gate and entered the code.

As the gate opened, Eragon whistled, obviously impressed. "That is a house," he commented.

Arya smiled, having heard that statement many times before. Arya opened the garage door and parked the car beside a variety of cars, ranging from a bright yellow Lamborghini Huracan to a blacked out BMW M6. Eragon spoke again, "I'm not sure if I'm more impressed with the cars or the house. I'm leaning for the cars, being a long-time grease monkey myself."

Eragon

Arya smiled at him making fun of himself. "Follow me, Eragon. Let me show you around," Arya said. Tearing his eyes from the cars, Eragon followed Arya. Entirely focused on keeping his eyes off her tight fitting jeans, he examined the house. There were exquisite pictures and paintings of Arya's entire family, consisting of her, Arya's mother, a man who he assumed was Arya's father, and a twenty-ish year old he didn't recognize. His arm or arms were wrapped around Arya in some of the pictures. A strange feeling of...jealousy? What am I jealous of? he thought.

Gesturing to the young man, Eragon asked "who is he?"

Arya, when seeing who he asked about, started talking about the various rooms. "This is my mother's bedroom, here's the kitchen…" she went on, explain the various rooms. They eventually went upstairs. "This is my room," she said, pointing to the first room up the stairs, "and this will be yours," she continued, gesturing to the second room.

Eragon nodded. "May I go into my room? I'd like to get situated."

When Arya replied, she seemed distracted. "Yeah, go ahead."

He entered, seeing a massive room with an elegant design that unified the crown molding, walls, bed sheets, and the furniture. How did they make all of this match? he thought, impressed with the unity. Arya entered behind him. "That was Fäolin in the pictures," was all she whispered as she retreated into her room. Realization struck him immediately. Oh no. What have I brought up? he thought, as he deciphered Arya's reaction. Do I apologize? He heard a loud grumble from his stomach, making his decision for him. He pushed his door back open and walked to her room, instinctively knocking with his right arm. As soon as it made impact, he winced. How do you forget about a cast? he asked himself as his arm began to throb, but then the door opened.

As soon as he saw her glassy, emerald eyes, the pain vanished. "Umm…" he stuttered, caught off guard. The realization hit him at that moment: she is the one.

Arya

Tears starting to form in her eyes. Why am I feeling? If anyone else asks, I don't say a word, but with him… she lost her train of thought as a knock on the door distracted her. She sighed and walked to the door, opening it to see a wincing Eragon. "Umm...I'd like to apologize for asking about…him. I didn't make the connection."

Arya replied with, "it's alright, you didn't know."

Eragon didn't move, so he still wanted to talk about something. "I was wondering if I could throw something together downstairs. For dinner."

"For both of us?" Arya asked, shocked about his possible ability to cook.

"Yeah." He must have noticed her confusion, because he continued. "My parents used to go out of town a lot, so I taught myself to cook a few years ago."

"Let me get into something more comfortable, then I'll be down," as she shut the door. He cooks? the thought still sinking in as she put her loose t-shirt and sweatpants on. When she got downstairs, she found him looking around, confused. "You know, this house isn't THAT big," as she said it, he looked at her and a shocked look enveloped his face before he hid the look with a smile "the kitchen is over here." She led him to the kitchen, showed him where various ingredients were. Arya watched, intrigued.

Without looking up, Eragon spoke. "Are you checking me out?" She knew he was joking from his tone.

"No, I just want to make sure you don't kill me with whatever concoction you give me."

He looked up this time, grinning from ear to ear, then went back to work. Arya had to admit, it was entertaining to watch him single handedly(literally) make dinner from scratch. Occasionally, he would reach with his right hand, bump it on something, then immediately regret it. He would sneak a look back to her almost every time he did to see if she saw. And she saw every one. It was almost 20 minutes later when he bumped it particularly hard when turning his attention back to the pan. He let out a long "fffffffff-" noise before cutting off his curse, which caused her to giggle. It was funny watching him repeatedly try to use his broken arm. She saw his cheeks redden, despite the fact that he was focusing on making dinner, so she bit her bottom lip to stifle the laugh. As she did, he turned around, a pan of fettuccine alfredo in hand, and said "it's - ready" he stuttered, looking at her biting her bottom lip. His face still had some red in it, which caused her heart to flutter. What was that? she thought as she broke eye contact, disguising it by grabbing plates and silverware. She divided the items among them, including the food. They left enough for her mother in the refrigerator.

They sat at a dining table for six, and Arya immediately started to take a bite when she noticed Eragon was just watching her and stopped the fork before her mouth. "What?" she asked, curious.

"I want to see your reaction to my professional chef skills."

She became cautious after he said this, only taking the bite of half a noodle. Before she bit into it, she knew it would be amazing from the scent, and Eragon was smiling knowingly at her. When the flavor hit her mouth, she smiled from her reluctance to show him how she felt about his, rather amazing, food.

He smiled at her reaction, then jokingly said "how soon should I join Top Chef?"

"You shouldn't, this is the worst food I've ever eaten," she said in-between bites. After she said this, she received text and checked her phone.

Mother: Backed up at work. Will be home around 11-11:30pm

Arya: Okay, we left some food in the refrigerator for you

Mother: Thank you. Before I go, do you think Eragon should stay with us longer? Living by yourself at seventeen years old is no easy task

Arya: I think the extra company would be nice

Mother: Extra company? Since when have you wanted more company?

Arya didn't reply, only speculating about her mother noticing a change in behavior. I've never even had a sleepover. What ha-she made the connection as she took another bite. She watched him, intrigued by her reaction to him. I have feelings for him, but what about Fäolin? Do I forget about him, because I can't do that? Eragon noticed her staring at him. "What?" he asked.

She half-lied. "It's something my mom texted me about. Do…" how do you ask this? "...you want to stay with us through the end of the school year? It would make things easier for you." She added more, unknowingly attempting to convince him to stay, "plus, I won't have to suffer my mother by myself for an entire school year."

Eragon took the polite reply, saying "I'll think about it. I don't want to intrude on you guys."

She held up her phone, saying "it was my mother's idea. You won't intrude on us, it's just the two of us every day. C'mon." Wait, I didn't even do this with Fäolin.

Eragon sighed and gave in. "Alright, but I'll need to grab some things from my house, like clothes. I can make do tonight, but tomorrow I'll have to get the key to the house from…" he hesitated. "The glove box." Arya immediately knew he was talking about his dad's car. He hasn't seen it since the wreck. This will be hard on him, she thought, hating that he went through so much loss at such a young age.

Arya decided to change the topic, beginning a conversation that lasted for hours. Finally, Eragon decided to put the dishes up. As he walked around to get Arya's, his socks slipped, sending him lunging forward, plate clattering in the floor, miraculously unbroken.

Arya found herself inches from him, his broken arm on the back of her chair while his left was gripping the table to support his weight. They looked at each other, both unsure about what to do. Arya did what she usually does when she is unsure and went with her gut. She closed her eyes and leaned in, hesitating millimeters away from Eragon's lips, not wanting to force him into this. He hesitated for a moment, then he pressed his lips into hers. Arya felt Eragon's left hand wrap around the back of her neck, then she wrapped her arms around his neck. She brushed her tongue against his lower lip, requesting access. He opened immediately, just as a door shut.

Arya immediately broke away and yelled "hey mom, we're in the dining room!" As she spoke, she stared at Eragon, his face completely flushed. She imagined hers looked the exact same.

Arya and Eragon began picking up the plates he'd dropped, cleaning it up as her mother walked in with a steaming plate of food. Is she...smiling? Eragon left with the plates as her mother sat down. Islanzadí took a bite of her fettuccine, then looked at it, surprised by the taste.

Islanzadí

She walked in quietly, not wanting to disturb her daughter and Eragon sleeping. The lights were on, so she pulled out a Px4 Storm and began working her way to the dining room. She saw Arya and Eragon kissing. She began to quietly walk back to the door, smiling. Maybe he can get her to move on from Fäolin, she thought. She shut the door hard, almost slamming it, then she heard Arya yell "hey mom, we're in the dining room!"

A/N

I know you're asking two questions. Why did ExA kiss this early and why is Islanzadi okay with it. I'll start with the latter question. I view Islanzadí as an emotionally disconnected mother who wants what's best for her daughter. Also, Eragon isn't a rider(well, driver) in this yet, so they aren't relying on him as much at the moment. I also think that Arya doesn't have the whole "I can't have a relationship because responsibilities" mentality, being a teenager. If you disagree and/or think I should change it, I will. Those were just my thoughts on the situation and will be more than happy to wait on ExA stuff if you all think that's how it should be. As for the ending, I know it was abrupt, but I wanted to do a timeskip next, skipping a bunch of fluff.

Also, I've noticed that I tend to keep things like clothes, hairstyles, etc. vague. My original plan was to keep it up to you to imagine that on your own, but if you want I can change it and write specifically what they are wearing.