Arturia glanced out the car window, the snowflakes flashing past them while the squeak of the windshield wipers was he only thing filling the car with life. There was complete silence—even the radio was turned off. Arturia had kept silent when she entered the car and avoided Diarmuid's question. Instead, she found it best to show her cold shoulder, if Diarmuid did not answer her question last time, there was no need to answer his. No, she was not being petty.
Diarmuid cleared his throat, "It is not very mature of you to ignore me, you are aware."
Arturia sighed, not daring to turn her head towards him. There was nothing that she needed to explain to him; quite literally nothing. Yes, Bedivere liked her, and it made her nervous but luckily, nothing had happened between them; meaning there was nothing she needed to justify herself for.
"I asked you a simply question, Arturia." He grumbled over, she could hear the fretfulness in his voice; irritation leaking through his words.
She continued her silence, her mind trying not to focus on the man next to her.
"I promised I would tell you about Youth, and so I will." He spoke, jealousy subsiding and allowing him to take a deep breath. Trust, it was important in a relationship.
She turned towards him, stunned a bit to see him volunteering himself, "Honestly?" Her eyes had grown, expanding the meadow within. Her lips parted slightly and there was a slight tilt in her head as she inquired.
The car soon rolled to a stop in the snowy parking lot of a coffee shop. The cold evening wind howled through the streets of the otherwise abandoned street while the snowflakes fell in a white flurry.
Arturia tightened her ponytail, before zipping up her jacket and shoving her hands in the furry pockets. She shivered; the sweatpants she wore were sadly quite thin and the wind blew through her bones, her skin lifting with goosebumps and a chill fleeting through her body.
The little bells rang above her head as she stepped into the store shaking her head to shake off the snow flakes. Wiping her combat boots on the mat, she stepped through the inner door and right towards the counter. She rubbed her hands together and puffed warm air onto them before looking up at the menu and grazing her eyes over it.
Diarmuid reached her not long after and quickly ordered the first coffee he found appealing and Arturia followed suit. After collecting their drinks, they found the most secluded booth in the shop and settled down, slipping out of their jackets.
"So…" She hummed lowly her eyes settled on the coffee before her, the vapour gently dancing up towards the ceiling and disappearing halfway up, "How did you meet?" It was a simple start; smooth, easy—not sudden.
"High school." His answer was dry. Then he took a deep breath, "We shared a class in sophomore year and we sat across from each other. It wasn't until a few months later that we had begun to date."
Arturia nodded, "And then?"
"We… went to prom together in senior year, went on a few trips to England by ourselves. Cú became quite attached to her around that time, Scatty liked her too. I guess, they really thought we would be together forever…" He rubbed his neck, "I thought that too."
He was fidgeting with the coffee cup's paper holder. His fingers ripping it bit by bit, "We graduated together, went to University together, shared some courses… Around second year we, um," she folded his hands together as his cheeks dusted in a pink, "you know, yeah…"
Arturia peaked through her lashes to see the look on his face, "Slept together?" She guessed.
Diarmuid sighed and nodded, "We had been dating for four years and we had really grown together. That was when I had decided that we should spend the rest of our lives together, so I proposed in third year."
The blonde looked back down, her heart twisting just at the regret in his voice, "How did it end?"
"We were planning the wedding; it was to be in the spring of the following year, possibly before graduation. Youth had decided that she would take a year off and move to Australia." He was now tapping his hands on the table, anxiety taking the best of him.
"Australia?"
A nod, "Yes, she had this dream of wanting to live in Australia. So, we planned of moving there and returning to Ireland for the wedding. It was about a week before we were to leave and everything was perfect; we were in bliss and in the calm before a storm. My father called."
"Aengus?"
"No," Diarmuid shook his head, "Donn. I… I always knew I was adopted, sometimes Scatty would needlessly be mean to me when we were younger and I never had truly fit in. Aengus told me when I was in senior year of high school, but he never told me who my father was, so it was a huge surprise."
Arturia reached out towards the man, landing her hand on his, easing his restlessness.
"I had a lot of questions I had wanted to ask, a lot of things I wanted to know. I mean, I was only truly understanding who I was… it was a big part of who I was and I did not know anything about it." He breathed, "Sadly, Australia was a big part of who Youth was too."
There was silence that surfaced, but then he spoke again, "I had to choose."
The soft jazz music that filled the coffee shop was mixed with the scent of fresh coffee beans, a hind of salted caramel in the air and carrot cake. The furnace was running, a distant murmur heard past the jazz songs. Unidentifiable chatter in the nearby booths and a few calls from the barista over orders.
"And I chose my father." He blinked, "So I let her go. It was a hard decision that I regretted for years every time I would catch her in the corner of my eye while I was at social events."
The Englishwoman rested her head on her hand, a soft frown on her lips just as she tightened her grip on his hand, "You… made the right choice."
He chuckled, "Of course you would say that."
She laughed, "No, I actually mean that family always has to come first, I guess."
"Yeah," he nodded, "I understand… Look," he stared at her, amber eyes intensely contacting hers, "A huge part of my life was spent with Youth, much too long, and sure, I feel some sort of feelings for her… but I do not love her, Arturia. I care about you, now. I…I know you are still young but to me, a relationship is serious… I'm not here to play you or use you."
"Bedivere, his names is Bedivere." Arturia spoke, leaning back on the booth's red seat.
"Pardon?" Diarmuid furrowed his brows.
"We're childhood friends but we stopped talking when my mother passed away. I recently started speaking to him because of fencing and he likes me, as I found out today." She crossed her arms over her chest, "But I strictly told him that you were my boyfriend and he immediately apologized."
"Ah," he nodded, "the boy that tried to kiss you today." He recalled, a bit of jealousy bubbling up inside him.
"You don't need to worry about him, we are simply friends."
"Soooo?" Jeanne grinned as they made their way through the hallway. "How was your date yesterday?" She cooed.
The hallway was not as busy, now that the days were getting warmer, people were exiting the school just as the bell would ring. It was about late April, Arturia's birthday had come and gone and nothing much was done for her 'big eighteen', as Jeanne phrased. Arturia and Jeanne had spent it together by driving to the lake and having a picnic, Bedivere had gone out with her for a coffee in the morning along with Lancelot and Gwen because the brunette would not allow the man to pull any moves.
Dinner was spent with Jeanne too as her father had extended his stay in England and would not be back for a couple of weeks more. And after the entire heart-to-heart with Diarmuid they had gone on a few dates here and there, their relationship building again.
Arturia supressed her smile, "It went well." Her eyes fell to the tile floor in front of her as they neared her locker.
"You see, I'm happy you spoke with him, it really cleared things up." Jeanne was grinning while skipping, she seemed cute with the twirls she made every now and again and the swing to her skirt.
They finally reached Arturia's locker, the shorter of the two swirling her lock and pulling it before opening the metal door, "Well, things really did get better."
"You know, I saw Youth the other day…" Jeanne tapped her cheek with her index finger, violet eyes looking up as she recalled the event, "She was talking with Gilgamesh."
Arturia wouldn't lie that she was still jealous of the grace that the woman held, "What about?"
Jeanne shrugged, "Hnn? I could not catch a single word because Cú immediately pulled me away, he has a vendetta against her."
"Speaking of mister twerk, isn't he waiting for us?" Arturia's eyebrow raised in question.
Jeanne couldn't help but laugh, "Mister twerk? What does that mean? Oh my gosh!" Her giggles filled the air around them as they continued down the stairs, "Where did you get this from?"
"Diarmuid tells me that he twerks sometimes," Arturia joined the light-hearted giggles.
Wiping a tear from her eye, the Frenchwoman held her stomach, "Please, don't do this to me."
Reaching the parking lot, Jeanne immediately looked around for her boyfriend, scanning the side of the school but not finding any sign of the young man, "Wait here," she turned towards her best friend, smile still bright on her lips.
Arturia waved her off as she ran around the corner of the school. She had gotten her Biology test mark back and she was ecstatic with how she had done, so nothing was going to make her upset… or so she thought. Turning the corner, she had seen the back of her boyfriend, before she could call out to him she noticed the cigarette in his hand.
A frown cut deep on her cheeks, "Hey," she called with a hint of irritation, forgetting her previous ecstasy.
Cú jumped, dropping the cigarette and stepping on it quickly to smother it while he coughed not so subtly, "H-hey!" he waved over to her, a bit uncharacteristic of him, "When did you get here?"
"Just right now," she replied, her eyes on his black shoes, "You better pick it up. I'll report you for littering."
He laughed, "Babe," he walked towards her, "you're adorable."
"Pick it up." She deadpanned as she turned on her heel. Sure, Jeanne could be a pushover at times, but she certainly wasn't when it came to Cú's smoking habit. They had discussed it a couple of times, he had promised to quit or at least not smoke in front of her but she hated having to endure the toxic smell that clung to his clothes and the restlessness he had when he had yet to smoke his cigarette.
He bent down, keeping silent for he did not want to upset her any further.
"Well," she shook off her temporary anger, "let's get going, Artie's waiting." She then returned to smiling and proceeded to skip towards the parking lot again. She just wanted what was best for Cú, but she knew she needed to stop being so pushy, he would come around sooner or later; all she needed to do was pray.