#Family Madrigal has been stuck in my head for the last week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kindofchaoticgood · 6 years

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Walk on Water

A celebration story for my surprise four day weekend, wherein Uma and Harry are music stars on tour together who do the relationship tag. Enjoy! (Lyrics from Beyoncé and Eminem’s new song ‘Walk on Water’ and Eminem’s song, ‘Hi, My Name Is’)

There are snatches of music dancing around in Uma’s head, but every time she tries to play them out, they sound wrong. She tries another simple phrase on the keyboard, but a note clanks too sharp.

“Motherfucker!” She growls, slamming her hands down on the keys, which make a dismally discordant noise.

“Leave poor Artemis alone,” Harry chides, stepping into the room. His hair is fluffing all over the place, a result of towel-drying after his shower. “It’s not her fault you can’t do it right.”

Uma shoots a glare at him that makes grown men cower but only makes him laugh. “Shut up.”

“No,” Harry grins and sits down next to her on the bench. “What’s wrong?”

She gives him a suspicious look to assess the seriousness of his question and then says grudgingly, “I can’t get this phrase down. It’s playing out perfectly in my head, but every time I try to play it out on here it sounds wrong.”

“Play it for me,”

Uma places her hands on the keyboard and starts playing, adding her voice to the piano chords. “I walk on water, but I ain’t no Jesus. I walk on water, but only when it freezes.”

She tries to play the next phrase, but she only manages to get through two notes before another damn false note rings out that makes even Harry wince. “Goddamn it!” she shouts, resisting the urge to bang her head on the keyboard. What is it with this fucking phrase?

“Hey,” Harry wraps his arm around her shoulder and draws her closer to him. “You’ll get it, okay?”

Uma just sighs and places her head on his shoulder. He smells like sandalwood, detergent, and something that’s purely Harry, and she curls further into his neck, lured in by his warmth.

“Come on darling,” Harry pulls back slightly from her to look her in the eye, a hint of a grin on his face. “Say it,”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Say it.”

Uma looks at him sternly, trying to maintain her stance. There’s a full-out grin on Harry’s face now, but seriousness in his eyes. It’s one of these things that he does with her, the constant encouragement and praise. She has always been self-deprecating to the point of putting herself down, and it’s a habit that Harry is slowly trying to train her out of. Uma doubts that she will ever be fully rid of the habit, but she loves Harry for trying.

“I’ll get it,” she says, and he smiles at her, not the usual smirk that’s always present around his mouth, not the rakish grin that makes his fans weak at the knees, but a real smile, the kind that makes his blue eyes sparkle like the ocean in the morning and makes his face softer. She loves that smile, and seeing it always makes something warm come to life in her chest.

“See, was that so hard?” Harry leans in and kisses her cheek, and she smiles despite herself and places her head back on his shoulder. She can work on the song another time. For now, she needs to take a nap.

“Love?” Harry murmurs into her hair.

“Hmm?”

“You aren’t falling asleep, are you?”

“I was planning to,” she mumbles back, burrowing into his neck. God, he’s always so much warmer than me. How is this fair?

“Well, you can’t.”

“And why not?”

“Do you remember when you were really tired after doing a concert and an interview right afterwards and I asked you to do a live video with me next week? And you said ‘I’ll do anything you want as long as you let me sleep’ so that live video is today,”

Uma’s eyes snap open and she pushes her head off of Harry. “WHAT?”

“Love you, bye!” Harry launches himself off of the piano bench as Uma tries to grab him and runs away.

“Harry James! Get back here right now, or I’m never having sex with you again!”

*****

“I don’t even remember agreeing to this,” Uma complains as Gil sets up the tripod in front of the sofa. Harry is already lounging on top of it, looking unfairly good-looking, as usual. “Why can’t you do this on your own?”

“Because we polled the fans on Twitter, and they said they wanted us to do the relationship tag for our next video,” Harry says, glancing up at her from his phone.

Uma frowns. “What the fuck is a relationship tag?”

“No idea,” Harry admits, running a hand through his hair. “But they’re going to be the ones sending us questions, so we’ll figure it out.”

Gil gives her a reassuring grin. “It’ll be okay Uma. Desiree and Harriet are gonna be going through the questions as they come, and you know they won’t let anything too bad slip through.”

That much was true. Harriet loved embarrassing Harry, but she was protective as fuck over her brother and Desiree was more like Uma’s mother than her cousin.

“I still have my performance makeup on,” Uma protests in a last-ditch effort to save herself.

Harry casts a glance over her hot-pink lipstick, turquoise eyeliner, and gold contour and smirks at her. “You look hot,” he says simply, moving over on the sofa so that there’s room for Uma.

She groans and stalks over to the sofa, throwing herself down on it and fiddling with a stray black and turquoise curl sulkily as Gil and Harry begin arguing about the position of the tripod.

Harry is the one who uses social media. He constantly posts on Instagram, updates his Snapchat story religiously, and uses Twitter like a lifeline, whereas Uma usually only posts on her Instagram once in a blue moon and only uses her Twitter to post sarcastic comments.

It was only after she started collaborating with Harry that she even got an Instagram; before that, all she had was the Twitter account and a secret Tumblr. To be fair though, there were a lot of things she hadn’t had before Harry.

She still remembers the first time they met; her verse in Khushal Nanzari’s (or, as his fans knew him, Gonzo) new song and the new single she had just released were taking off, and Harry and his band were invited to a celebration party Gonzo was hosting to celebrate the release of his third album. She had been sipping Cristal in a ridiculously tiny glass in an expensive metallic dress when Harry Hook, lead singer in Skullduggery Road, had walked up to her and said, “Your verse in Gonzo’s song was the most lyrically complicated thing I’ve ever heard, and you made my dragon of a big sister tear up with your voice in ‘Rise Up’. In short, you’re bloody amazing and can we collab on something?”

Uma had agreed before she even fully processed what she was agreeing to, because this was the lead singer of one of her favorite bands, how could she say no? They had exchanged numbers and Uma had completely forgotten that she had his number until he texted her the next day I’m also pretty okay at dancing if you need more reasons to work with me ;) and Uma had laughed out loud and set to work writing a song. Within a week, she had the song written and before she knew it, ‘What’s My Name’ featuring Harry Hook had been on Billboards Top 100 for four weeks straight and Harry was asking her out.

And now, they were going on their second tour together and had been together for two years. (Damn, has she really been stuck with him for that long?)

As if sensing her thoughts, Harry leans over and gently bites her shoulder through her oversized hoodie. She ruffles his hair absently, and gives him a small smirk to show him she’s already gotten over her complaints.

“And we’re going live in three … two … one,” Gil calls out, and then starts recording.

“Hey, I’m Uma Triskelion,” Harry says immediately.

“And I’m Harry Hook,” Uma adds, leaning against the sofa.

“We’re live in our tour bus, and we just finished off a performance in the Rabbit Hole – hence Uma’s unique makeup look.”

“Thanks love,” Uma mutters and Gil snickers. Harry just grins before continuing.

“So you lot have been begging us to do the relationship tag, whatever that is, so if you want to ask us a question, tweet us at #AskHumaLive –”

Uma makes a face. “What the hell is Huma?”

“That’s our ship name,”

“What? Since when?”

“Since forever, since we started dating, remember that?” Harry teases. “Or is your memory fading?”

“Who came up with that?” Uma demands, slightly creeped out. From behind the tripod, Gil is silently laughing, and she discreetly flips him off.

“The fans, baby, always the fans,” Harry replies distractedly, scrolling through his phone. “Ah, we already have our first question! AaliahWitch says ‘Uma, when is Harry’s birthday?’”

“June 14th,” Uma replies easily, and then studies her phone. “ChanceDaring12 says ‘What’s Uma’s middle name?’”

“Astraea,” Harry says immediately. “BurrShotFirst176 says ‘Where does Harry’s family come from?’” “England, but you grew up in Scotland.” Uma smirks at the disappointed look on his face. “HarrysHook – nice name, by the way – wants to know if you can name all of my cousins.” “Jonas,” Harry was starting to count off on his fingers. “Desiree. Harmonia. Piper. Poppy—” His face went blank. “Shit.” Gil snickers and Uma grins at the camera. “Second question, and he’s already choking,” she says smugly. “I’m not choking!” Harry protests. “I know that I’m missing four of them – wait, one of them is Madrigal!”

“She hates that name,”

“Madi, then!” “Three more to go,” Uma mocks him. “My cousins are going to be so sad when they realize you don’t know their names; they love you, you know.” “Jesus Christ,” Harry groans, and throws himself dramatically into her lap. Her phone vibrates with a message from Desiree and she laughs evilly as she reads it. “Desiree says that the girls are watching right now, and that they’re really sad that you don’t know their names,” Uma informs him gleefully, then turns to the camera. “It’s okay babies, I still know all your names,” she says with a sweet smile and a wave. “I’m sorry, okay?” Harry says, his voice muffled from under his hands. “I’m an absolute monster but I really need help.” “Hmm,” Uma grins. “What does the Internet think? Do you think I should give him a hint?” Harry turns over to the camera and gives it his best pout. “Please help me, Interwebs, you have no idea how many cousins she has.”

When she glances down at her phone, most of the tweets are in favor of her giving him a hint, and the conversation thread is full of people wondering why she has so many cousins. “Their names start with L, A, and T,” she says, smoothing out his hair.

Harry considers this. “That actually doesn't help at all. D’you have any idea how many girls names start with those letters?”

“They’re all related to music,” she points out offhandedly, snickering when Desiree sends her a picture of the girls making sad faces at the camera.

“I think that made things more confusing, to be honest,” Harry confesses. “I give up,”

“Lyrica, Allegra, and Talea,” Uma smirks down at him.

“Bloody hell!” Harry complains, then addresses the camera as he sits up. “Lyrica, Allegra, Talea, I’m dreadfully sorry I forgot your names darlings. I’ll take you out for ice cream the next time I see you, alright?”

Just then his phone buzzes and Harry stares down at it for a second before saying out loud, “Screw you, Harriet!”

“What did she say?”

“Something about how you need to spray whipped cream on my face. Utter nonsense.”

“Actually,” Gil pipes up, a shit-eating grin on his face, “it’s common custom in the relationship tag that if the person gets a question wrong, then whipped cream gets sprayed on to a plate and then the plate is smashed on their face at the very end.”

“How the hell do you know this?” Harry demands as Uma laughs. “I like this game,” she says smugly.

“We don't have any whipped cream though,” Harry protests, looking desperate.

Gil reaches behind him and pulls out a can of whipped cream. “Actually . . .”

“You bitch,” Harry growls as Uma bursts out laughing.

“Language, baby, what kind of message will this send to the Internet?”

“That he's a backstabbing traitor,” Harry declares as Gil and Uma laugh at him. “Gil Charbonneau cancelled, Marya Rasputin is my new best friend.”

“You wish,” Uma retorts. “Gil, hand me the whipped cream.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Harry groans as Gil hands her the whipped cream and a paper plate and she gleefully makes three large mountains on the plate. “I can't get any of the other ones wrong now.”

She grins. “It's my turn, isn't it?”

“Yeah . . . LittleSeaWitch wants to know where our first date was?”

“The aquarium. You kept on making up weird backstories for all the animals, and we nearly had to leave because you kept on interrupting the tour guide and telling the little kids that the nurse sharks had clinical depression.”

Harry grins smugly at the memory. “That was a good day.”

“Can't take him anywhere,” Uma tells the camera. “HumaLives wants to know what my eye color is.” She averts her eyes from him and then covers them for extra measure.

“Brown,” Harry says instantly.

“How do you even know that?” Gil demands. “Most people get that wrong,”

Harry shrugs. “She has beautiful eyes.”

Uma is intensely grateful that no one can see her blush as Gil lets out a sappy 'Awww’ and Harry kisses her cheek.

“Next question,” she says quickly, before she can start giggling hysterically, like she always does when she's nervous or embarrassed.

“Atlantic_Melody asks, 'What is Harry's favorite book?’”

“Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. QueenAudreyTheFirst wants to know what movie makes me cry every single time,” she glances up from her phone. “None of them. I don't cry during movies.”

“Bullshit,” Harry says smugly, then does a terrible job of cupping his mouth and whispering, “The Book Thief.”

Uma jabs an elbow into his side and Harry laughs. “Come on darling, don't hate me because it's true,”

“Get out,” she tells him, but he and Gil just smirk at each other over the camera.

“Leader_of_Marching_Band_Nerds asks ‘What does Harry eat for breakfast?’”

“The souls of the innocent,” Uma deadpans. “No, this one doesn't eat breakfast.”

“All my life I was very deprived,” Harry starts rapping. “I ain't had a woman in years, my palms are too hairy to hide-”

“His sister dropped him on his head as a baby,” Uma tells the camera. “WarriorPrincessLonnie wants to know who the dominant one in our relationship is.”

“Oh, me, obviously,” Harry flexes and winks at the camera.

“Funny, that's not what you said last night,” Uma says without thinking, and then starts laughing at the look of utter disbelief and incredulity that Harry's giving her.

Meanwhile, Gil has dropped to the floor, laughing so hard that his face is turning red. “Yes, Uma, drag him,” he chokes out, before dissolving into laughter again.

“I cannot believe you just said that,” Harry says slowly, a smile starting to come over his face as well. “Do you realize what you’ve just unleashed?”

“I ain't afraid of no ghosts,” Uma quips. Her phone is blowing up with messages from her friends; Ashe, Sierra, and Marya are making dirty jokes and Claudine is begging them to stop.

“Plain-Jane-the-Queen wants to know what my shoe size is.”

Uma freezes. Shit. “Well, wizards and witches, that's all the time we have for today-”

“Now hold on just one damn second!” Harry protests as Gil cracks up again.

*****

Later on, after all of the whipped cream has been washed off, and they're curled together on the couch, Uma gently pokes Harry in the shoulder. “Hey.”

“What?” Harry mumbles sleepily into her hair, the sound reverberating through her chest. It's completely dark outside, and the moon is streaming through the windows of the trailer, leaving white light trailing on the carpet.

“I think I figured out the song,” she tells him, lacing their fingers together.

“Really?” His other hand is underneath her hoodie, lazily stroking her hip.

“It's going to be a rap song,” Uma says, and feels Harry shift to a more seated position to look her in the eye. “I was thinking we could collab on it?” She glances up at him. “Is that alright with you?”

Harry is giving her the most awestruck look she's ever seen, the same one he gives her every time she sings for him. “Of course, it's alright love,” he reassures, leaning in to kiss her. “I always want to collab with you.”

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rantingfangirl · 7 years

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Cross Life Chapter Eleven: Line Walking

Summary: Moving across the pond was supposed to signify new beginnings for the Kirkland family. Arthur’s parents seemed to take that a bit too literally for his liking.

Chapter Index

Read it on FF.Net Read it on AO3

“I’ll see y’all on Friday. Now get out of my classroom.”

Arthur grumbled as Mr. Vargas haphazardly tossed his binder full of sheet music onto his desk, sending papers and pencils to the sides and down to the floor. The latter stretched his arms out, his white dress shirt tightening around his biceps, his shoulders scrunched up.

The choir room broke out into a fit of noise, some individual voices louder than others. Most talked about what they had gone over during practice, what pieces they were worried about and how they went flat on that one high note. Others simply talked about their plans for the weekend, or the amount of homework they had that evening.

Grabbing his backpack, Arthur slung it over his shoulder, pressing his hand against his back and stretching. The backpack weighed down on his shoulders, and he got the strange feeling that it was unzipped, its contents open for everyone to see, even though he knew that wasn’t the case. As the year has gone on, it’s gotten heavier and heavier, though the crime could be mainly blamed on the three thick hardbacks he alternated between during the rare free moments he had. Each time he finished one, it was replaced with another the next day, just as heavy but just as addicting as the last.

Without saying goodbye to those in his section- he still had never bothered to learn their names, and when he was told, he immediately forgot, Arthur stalked out of the choir room, deflating as soon as he stepped into the silent hallway. He was the first one out the door.

Normally, he wouldn’t be able to wait to start his walk home, to begin those fifteen minutes where he was by himself and free, but today, he was doing something.

Something important.

Arthur slid his arm into the free strap of his backpack, the weight becoming more balanced as he turned right into another corridor. On the other side of the hallway, coming from the opposite direction, was Kiku. Arthur gave him a sarcastic sneer, a common greeting in their relationship, fully expecting one in return. What he got, however, could only be at best called a timid wince.

It was hard to believe that Kiku Honda, the one who had been a tiny needle stuck in his ass since the beginning of August, was actually cowering from him. Cowering, as if Arthur were some monster that had been waiting under his bed for months, waiting until he could see a soft white sock poke out onto the floor to grab and pull under. It was funny, really, considering the circumstances of their first meeting, how confident he was then compared to now.

And if Arthur was being serious, if he was really being serious to himself, he was curious. Of why this sudden change had happened. Not because he actually cared for Kiku- god no, he could never give a damn about such a slithery, slimy snake, but it made him wonder.

Though it was far-fetched, perhaps Alfred and Kiku were going through a patch of rocky terrain in their relationship. He remembered the way the latter shied from the former’s hand back in the library, the movement being far too snappy and harsh to be a fear of touch or anything of the like. Besides, he had seen them hold hands before, like when Arthur tracked Alfred down to declare his apology- and what a disaster that had been- so a phobia was out of the question.

Of course, Arthur could be overlooking it, be digging too deep into what could be something as simple as Kiku having a bad day, but he sincerely hoped it wasn’t. If they were fighting, if their string was growing taunt, then it would certainly make his plan go down much easier.

Arthur didn’t bother to say anything as he walked past Kiku, the latter’s pace quickening to a speed walk, not so much as sparing a single glance after his sneer. Soon, he was alone once more, the sound of his footsteps bouncing off the hallway as he strolled.

This afternoon was a gamble, as yesterday and the day before that had been. He was already gone by the time Arthur got out of Madrigal practice on Monday, and wasn’t in the library yesterday after his tutoring session with Alfred. Arthur supposed he had already left, and cursed Alfred for insisting on sitting outside in the courtyard. The latter had claimed, in his very own words, “it’s gonna be nice n’ cool outside, and I don’t wanna get stuck in a stuffy, dark library,” though Arthur was sure he just wanted to sabotage him.

However frustrating, Arthur figured he couldn’t enforce his hidden agenda on Alfred, no matter how much he wanted to, without risking it all. Besides, he wasn’t necessarily against sitting outside- so long as it wasn’t raining, he would hate for his books to be damaged- and hadn’t opposed, shocking himself and most likely Alfred as well. If the way his eyes widened after Arthur nodded was any indication.

He stopped before the library doors, taking a breath. It had not changed since the last time he was here, and he knew that inside, it would be the same as it always was. Books lined in faux wood shelves, the surfaces of the later made to look like anything but particle board. The dark carpet in desperate need of a vacuum, saturated with spilled Gatorade, soft drinks, and coffee, and even if it were to be thoroughly cleaned, it would never be the same as the first day it was nailed in and stepped on. Tables with declarations of love and phone numbers scrawled and etched into it, complete with matching chairs on their last leg, only a few years from toppling under someone.

And it was the same everywhere he went. No matter how many times his mum picked up his family and moved them, no matter how many times he went from one town to another, they all stayed the same. Different layouts, different buildings, different material, sure, but they were stable. Solid.

Unlike his family, with his brothers constantly moving in and out of the house, sometimes with an irritatingly shallow girlfriend clinging to their arms, their thin fingers twirling their thick and glossy hair, mouths spouting anything to please. With his mother lacing false promises and lies around her as if they were fine jewelry and silky lace, picking one off and throwing it at him when she needed to. With his father going through different versions of himself as a doctor would with bandages, ripping one off and tossing it away, only to replace it with another one he liked better.

Libraries were safe, calm, secure, and Arthur almost hesitated as he reached for the metal handle. He would be bringing his chaos inside, dragging it in with him and pushing all those peaceful years out, and everyone would let him do it without so much of a fight, without so much of a single thought of the consequences.

Arthur thought of leaving, just dropping it until another day when he saw him in the hallway or the courtyard. So he wouldn’t bring his plan and all that came with it into such a sacred place. But the damage had been done already, he supposed, and had been since the first tutoring session with Alfred.

And besides, he told himself, it was a necessary sacrifice to make.

He pulled the handle, shivering at the wave of chilly air that burst out. Another thing that had stayed consistent. Arthur wasn’t sure if the librarian would suddenly decided that a heater would be necessary soon, as in a couple weeks from now at the very maximum, or in the dead of winter. If the latter, then perhaps it would be warmer outside than in the library.

Balancing his weight to quiet his footsteps, Arthur beelined for the side of the library, windows between each bookshelf displaying slivers of the empty courtyard. Clusters of four tables were surrounded by a guard of shelves, and Arthur swiftly ducked his head to the side, checking to see if anyone was there. When he found it empty, he moved on to the next, making sure to go slow and quiet.

Row by row passed, textbooks, biographies, magazines, and casual picture books behind lined behind him. Each time he came across a group of tables, he pressed himself to the side of a bookshelf, slightly leaning over to get a good look before moving on.

He got closer and closer tot he back wall, the painted concrete covered in signs with inspirational quotes that Arthur doubted anyone relevant every said. As he reached the last group of tables, prepared for failure and being forced to try it again tomorrow, Arthur saw him.

Heracles sat in the corner, a stack mixed with hardbacks, paperbacks, and magazines piling high, almost as tall as he was sitting. Arthur froze, watching as he scanned down one page, stopping to scribble a quick note down in the lined notebook next to him, before flipping to the next. A speed reader, then. How wasteful, skimming over paragraphs, when the author spent hours hunched over each one, barely taking note of what the sentences contained. Whereas Arthur took his sweet time, reading each word and processing it with care, rereading pieces of dialogue to see what he could add to his analysis of each and every character. It made him think, made him wonder what type of reader he-

Arthur shook his head, forcing the thought away. It was unnecessary, he didn’t need that type of information nor would he ever. He rolled his shoulders back, the weight of his backpack making it more shallow than he would’ve preferred. He hadn’t been noticed yet, and if he kept quiet, probably wouldn’t be, which game him a decent amount of time to prepare.

Arthur thought of what he was going to say, or at the very least how he was going to begin the lengthy conversation they were going to have, and how he was going to deliver it in such a way that didn’t make him seem or look desperate.

Pushing some wisps of hair out of his face and taking in and letting out a deep breath, Arthur strolled to the table, his stride long but casual. He slid into the closet chair, dropping his backpack haphazardly into the one next to it. Arthur’s books knocked against the wood of the table, which he would normally wince at and immediately move to check their health, but he ignored it- not without a fair share of pain, however- in favor of focusing on Heracles.

The latter snapped his head up in surprise, his fingers tightening around the edges of his current book. From the confusion on his face, his brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, and mouth just a little bit gaped, Arthur could tell that he had no idea who he was. Good. Very good.

Arthur smirked, propping his cheek on the palm of his hand. “Heracles Karpusi?” The mentioned nodded, slowly closing his book shut, not before shoving an colored and scribbled on index card in the middle, setting it on the very top of the stack.

Heracles pursed his lips into a fine line, shaking his messy hair out of his face. He rolled his shoulders back, taking in a deep breath, letting it out through his mouth. “Yes, and who’re you?”

Arthur scoffed, shaking his head and waving his hand in dismissal. In this situation, it wasn’t necessary to know, and if Kiku had mentioned him before, then it could put everything at jeopardy. So, at the moment, “That’s not important.”

Heracles deadpanned, though Arthur could see his eye lightly twitch in annoyance, just barely noticeable. The latter’s smirk, which had appeared around the time he had taken the opportunity to seat himself, grew lazy and half-assed.

Making a show of himself, Arthur perked up in his chair, looking around for anyone that could be eavesdropping or just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Of course, he knew that the library was empty, had practically taken a tour of it, except for the two of them, and had made sure of it, but it was always nice to double check. If any of their conversation were to get out, even just a little snippet of the more important words, then it would be a major pain in the ass for the both of them. Especially for Arthur.

Especially for Arthur.

Smacking his hand against his back pocket, just to make sure it was there, Arthur pulled out a pack of gum, offering a stick to Heracles. It was the product of a late night stop at the gas station earlier this week, his father needing to fill up his tank and Arthur wanting to get out of the house for at least five minutes. He had been chewing it sparingly, having only about a stick a day, but he had made the mistake of letting Vlad get an eyeful during one lunch period. Now, the contents had quickly diminished, and Arthur only had about a row and a half left.

Heracles shook his head, raising his hand as Arthur tried to hand it to him. The latter shrugged, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth. It crackled and snapped in his mouth, the minty taste almost making him wince.

“So, Heracles.” He chewed out a tough spot in the gum, running his tongue over the top row of his teeth.

Heracles raised an eyebrow, still looking as if a million piece puzzle had just been set in front of him, no paper with any directions in sight. He opened his mouth to speak, only for Arthur to quickly cut him off.

“How much do you love him?” Quick and blunt, he decided not to mention the word “crush” to him, lest he get angry, denying their relationship to be such a short, trivial thing, and walk away.

Heracles paled, or as much as his olive skin would allow, his shoulders tensing up and his jaw clenching. As he spoke, he stuttered, his normally lethargic demeanor turned into something rushed. Panicked. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

Arthur’s smirk turned smug, and he leaned closer, his stomach pressing up against the table. “Now, that little reaction of yours tells me that yes, you do know what I’m talking about. You know exactly who I’m talking about.” Arthur lifted his head, studying his fingernails for dirt and places to file down. “How long?”

Heracles shook his head, pushing his chair back. This time, he had his backpack with him, a black cargo pack with two large pockets buttoned closed on the front, and slung it over his shoulder. Arthur noticed with not a lack of mirth that there were multiple cat charms chained to it. How cute.

Fully expecting this kind of reaction from him, Arthur sat there, watching as he picked up the entire stack of books with ease, along with his still-open notebook, balancing it on one arm. Not even a single one wiggled.

As he began to walk away, his pace slow as to not harm the stack, Arthur studied the lines and grooves of the table, not even sparing him a glance as he spoke. “Do you know how easy it would be for your little secret to get out?” From the corner of his eye, he saw Heracles freeze, and knew then that he had won. “You aren’t exactly subtle, to be quite honest. Someone would just have to point it out, give Alfred and his little band a small push, and then everyone would know about it.”

Heracles stepped up to the table, his hips pressing against the edge. He was tall, much taller than Arthur, and considering the way he was carrying those books as if they were rag dolls, much stronger than him as well.

Then again, he didn’t look angry per sé, but someone had once thrown a swing at Arthur while smiling without a care in the world, so he wasn’t taking any chances. Just in case, Arthur situated his arm a bit closer to the other and leaned away from him. At least that would give him a little bit of time to block.

Instead of going in for the punch, like Arthur anticipated- and he would’ve punched back, too, considering how long it had been since he had last gotten into a fight- Heracles raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. Waiting.

Arthur motioned his hand to the other side of the table, specifically the chair that Heracles had been sitting in before. The latter glanced at it, before returning his attention to Arthur. Taking in a sharp breath, he motioned again for him to sit in the chair, giving him a smile filled with sarcasm when the fool actually did.

When Heracles spoke, his voice had returned to its default quietness and slow pace, though Arthur could hear it shake. Out of fear, wary, or a bit of both, he couldn’t tell, and if he were to be honest, he didn’t really care. “What do ya want.”

Arthur propped his feet up on the chair next to him, his right foot resting against his backpack, and he hoped he wouldn’t fall. Cool and nonchalant, that was his act for the afternoon, and if he were to mess that up, it would be… embarrassing, to say the very least.

He shrugged, smiling as if he were in a daze, throwing his hands up in the air. “I just want to help you.”

Heracles deadpanned, slowly blinking. He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair as much as his backpack- which he had not yet taken off, even while sitting in a chair, a petpeeve of Arthur’s that made his eye twitch- would allow him. “You were the one who just said that you were willin’ to out me to Alfred.” He said his name with a sneer, several teeth showing. Arthur noticed that there was a small gap between his canine and incisor. Adorable.

Arthur made himself look offended, breaking years of habit to raise his chest and shoulders as he breathed, putting his hand to his collar bone, his index finger pressing into his neck. He furrowed his brow, slowly shaking his head, his mouth gaping.

Heracles didn’t seem impressed with his performance, his jaw tense, and he looked displeased when Arthur spoke, the latter’s voice breathy and his words slow. His reaction to it was unfortunate, really, considering that he had picked this straight out of his mother’s catalog of acts. “I didn’t say that I was going to out you, I simply said that I would nudge them in the direction. I’m sure they’re smart enough to figure it out themselves.”

Even with as dramatic as he was being, and how much he was currently reminding himself of his mother, Arthur couldn’t deny the fact that he was having fun with this. Pure, unbridled fun. Even when he knew that Heracles was feeling the exact opposite. Especially because of that.

Heracles huffed, slumping in his chair. “That’s the exact same thing.”

“No, they’re very much different.”

A frown. “I doubt that.”

Arthur shrugged, dropping his act, pursing his lips into a fine line. “If that’s what you want to think.”

The two fell silent for a while, Arthur’s more intentional than the other’s. He tapped his fingers against the table, nodding his head slowly. Occasionally, he sent a glance towards Heracles’ direction, making sure it was noticed, measuring if and when he was about to crack. Eventually, after about a couple minutes, Arthur got what he wanted.

Heracles threw his hands up, muttering something under his breath. It was too quick for Arthur to hear even a single word, but he was sure that it was nothing that he particularly wanted to hear. Either that, or an exclamation of impatience, which he sincerely doubted. “Fine. How are you gonna help me?”

Arthur smirked, picking at the skin surrounding one of his fingernails. This was the moment of truth. When everything that Arthur had been working for these past two months would come to fruit. And he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Despite the significant importance of this, of this very sentence he was about to say, Arthur said it as if it were nothing, simply a statement of the weather that morning or what they had for lunch at school. He didn’t even glance at Heracles as he spoke. “What if I were to tell you that there is a great possibility that Kiku could love you back?”

The atmosphere surrounding the table tensed, a great secret finally revealed to the light of the world. Heracles stared at Arthur, his eyes as wide as saucers, the color leeching from his cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak, but then clamped it shut, pursing it into a fine line. His face blanked, and at the moment, Arthur’s confidence in the success of the afternoon faltered the tiniest bit.

Heracles stood, gently setting the stack of books on the table, and pushing his chair in. He rolled his shoulders back, along with his neck, and walked away, grabbing his notebook before hand.

Arthur’s smirk fell, turning into more of a half-assed sneer, and he signed, deflating. That certainly went the way he was expecting it to go.

Heracles left his stack of books, most likely figuring that a librarian would pick them up the next day. How rude of him, to put that much more work on them when they already had such stressful and taxing jobs.

Arthur had to admit, however, that he was curious, and reached for the first book on the very top, the one he had been reading when Arthur had first initiated their conversation. He pulled it over to him, scanning the cover. If only because he was curious of what such a disrespectful brat could possibly be reading.

And at the very top, above a picture of a sculpted bust that had certainly seen better days, in platinum colored letters over a soft blue, read, “Greek Mythology: Battles of Will, Jealously, and Punishment”. Arthur couldn’t help but snort at that, dropping it haphazardly onto the table.

What a damn coincidence.

Vlad shivered as they stepped out into the courtyard, running his hands up and down his arms. October was in full fling, summer having been long ushered out by fall. Dead leaves crunched under their feet, covering the concrete ground and empty tables.

Arthur eyed their usual table, which sat against one of the concrete walls of the pit in all its worn and black beauty. It sat under a tree, one that had already lost most of its foliage, only bits of its magnificent metal top visible. Vlad noticed him staring, and gave him a sympathetic look, seeming equally miserable, even though their torture had yet to even begin.

No matter how much he wanted to, how much he yearned to, they would not be sitting at their table today. No, for they were being forced to sit with Mathias and all of his friends.

They had told Lukas that he could go by himself, that he didn’t have to have him and Vlad intruding and ruining their fun, only for Lukas to deny it. Arthur brought it up again, perhaps for the fifth time, only for Lukas to shake his head.

“I don’t wanna leave y’all alone.”

Arthur tsked. “But we’ll be interrupting-”

“Not at all, Mathias said that I could bring you two if I wanted. And I want to.”

From the corner of his eye, he could see Vlad deflate, though Lukas didn’t seem to notice. Normally, Arthur would be supportive of this type of thing, and would go in without a complaint but with watchful eyes and a prepared defense, but this was different. Very different.

The table was a hostile zone, the Montagues to their Capulets, with his dear friend unknowingly caught in the middle of it. It was a silent battle, his side the only ones in the dark. And they would be right in the thick of enemy territory. It was unfortunate, really, but Arthur had no choice but to go along with it and smile and nod his head at all the right times and places.

It was all he really could do, if he wanted to keep up the persona that he had so carefully and painstakingly crafted around his friends, and Arthur could only hope that the others weren’t cruel enough to send it all tumbling down. Not that they would even care, he supposed.

As they quickly descended the concrete stairs into the pit, Mathias caught sight of Lukas, waving to him with an elated smile spread across his face. And though Mathias was focused on his boyfriend and only on him, everyone else at the table turned their heads towards Vlad and Arthur, a few looking between the two with unfamiliarity, the others glaring at the latter. Either way, their eyes were sharp as knives and their faces as cold as ice.

Arthur ignored them, however, keeping his chin up and facial expression pleasant, even when he oh-so desperately wanted to scowl and sneer. He couldn’t, though, he wouldn’t, not when they expected him to. Not when they were counting on him to.

“Lukas~!” Mathias hopped up from the bench, almost tripping as his foot was caught on the edges, but quickly recovered, running up and pulling Lukas into a hug. He was fast, really fast, to have crossed the pit so quickly, but Arthur figured that with his record of being on the football team, that was a given.

Lukas giggled as Mathias whispered into his ear, putting his hand on the latter’s chest. Arthur was suddenly reminded of how sickening the two were when they were with each other, and it baffled him that even though they had been dating for about a month now, they had still not left their honeymoon phase. At this point, he doubted that they ever would. At least not any time in the foreseeable century.

Grumbling when Mathias pulled away, Lukas turned back toward Arthur and Vlad, his smile sweet and serene. He motioned to Mathias with his free hand, the other still on his chest. The two looked like a middle class couple standing in front of their suburban home, their brand new, shiny minivan parked behind them. Disgusting. “Guys, y’all remember Mathias.”

Mathias smiled, giving the two a short and light wave. Arthur stayed silent, simply giving him a nod of acknowledgment, letting Vlad do the work.

The latter cocked his hip and head to the side, his signature smile already spreading across his face. Vlad crossed his arms, seeming smug. “Oh, trust me. We remember Mathias. He’s all ya talk about.”

Lukas blushed as Mathias’ eyes widened, his smile growing wider. By then, the latter had moved his hand to Lukas’ lower back- or at least, Arthur hoped that that was where it was- and tugged him towards him. “Aw~ babe, you talk about me?”

The rosy pink on Lukas’ cheeks turned into more of a cherry red, and Arthur had to fight to hold back a gag. Vlad choked, moving his hand to cover his mouth, the other one twitching, as if it was ready to join.

Lukas opened his mouth to say something, which would probably be something equally or even more mush than what Mathias had cooed at him, only to be- thankfully, for once- cut off by Alfred.

“Ay! Mathias! Quit yer chit-chattin’ and get yer ass over here!”

Mathias froze, his ever shining and strong smile faltering just a tiny bit, but enough to be easily noticed. It was quickly back up again, however, even stronger this time, and if Arthur hadn’t noticed it at the exact moment the mess up had happened, he wouldn’t have realized it.

Sending the three of them a quick, apologetic look- for what, Arthur guessed he would never find out- Mathias turned, strolling towards the table, Lukas on his heels. He waved for them to follow. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

A few faces at the table were easily recognizable, such as Antonio and Mr. Vargas’ grandson, whose name had already escaped him. Arthur supposed that he might’ve seen the others in the hallway once or twice, but could never bring up the memory. They all certainly seemed to know him, however, as they glared at him with mixed amounts of venom, one looking a bit more default than the others.

It made Arthur wonder if Mathias visiting them for lunch a couple weeks ago was more of a scouting mission than anything. To see what he would do in their presence, to see if Arthur would attack him with his friends sitting next to him. It made Arthur grit his teeth, to think that they could be using Lukas to get closer to him.

Thankfully, Mathias chose to sit at the end of the table, far away from Alfred and the little snake clinging to him. Maybe the two had decided to provide a unified front today in the face of their greatest enemy, show that yes, their relationship may be crumbling into little bitty pieces- at least, it looked that way- but oh boy, could they pretend the opposite. Pretend a unified, strong, loving front.

It made Arthur feel sorry for them, in a way, but he quickly reminded himself that they deserved everything they got, and everything they will get.

The four stopped at the end of the table, Mathias taking a few steps back so everyone could get a good look at them. In a way similar to the time of his confession, Lukas seemed to shrink into himself a little bit, though this time it seemed more of a nervous habit than anything.

“Guys.” Mathias smiled, his layers of freckles scrunching on top of each other. “This is Lukas.”

A boy Arthur didn’t know, one with fair white hair and tinted sunglasses, gave Mathias a toothy smirk. “Lukas, as in the main one, or Lukas the side dude?”

Alfred’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped, looking at the one who spoke with pure horror laced in his voice. “Oh my god, Gilbert. Stop. Don’t.”

Gilbert’s smirk turned into more of an ashamed frown, and he reached for his bottle- gray metal with a red top, grumbling behind it before taking a swig. “So, I guess that joke stopped being funny.”

Mathias’ smile was tense, and he took in a sharp breath, letting it out through his nose before he spoke. “Yes, it stopped being funny months ago. Months. Ago.”

Gilbert blushed, looking down. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Thank you.”

Arthur watched their exchange, trying his best to keep in a snicker. What came out was more of a choking sound, and Vlad looked at him, a knowing smile on his face. The latter covered his face, his thumb digging into his cheek, as if he were trying to keep his own laughter from falling out.

Remember who the particular joke was at the expense of, Arthur slightly leaned forward, looking across Vlad and to Lukas. He was frowning, the blush from before faded from his cheeks. Arthur would’ve thought that he had not understood the joke, would’ve believed it, until he noticed that his lips were slightly pursed.

“Anyway.” Mathias’ cheery smile was back up, though he flashed a quick warning look to those at the table. A possible threat, should they choose to make anymore jokes without thinking them out thoroughly beforehand. “This is Vlad…” He trailed off, wincing.

Vlad smiled, nodding his head. “Vlad Popescu.”

Mathias frowned, his eyebrows scrunching. He bopped his head side to side, pursing his lips into a fine line. “Yeah… I’m not even gonna try to say that.”

The table laughed, some louder than others, while Mr. Vargas’ grandson just rolled his eyes. Arthur noticed a fault in his act, however, as there was a small, tiny smirk on his face.

Mathias chuckled along with the group, softly shaking his head. Alfred, followed by a few others, tried to pronounce Vlad’s last name with varying levels of accuracy, Vlad watching them with an amused smile.

Arthur thought that he was perhaps the only one who noticed that Mathias’ smile and laughter had faded, his lips pursed into a fine line.

“And this, uh.” He rubbed the back of his neck, adjusting his feet, looking at Arthur as if he was going to reach out and bite his head off. As if he were the boogie monster, searching for more high schoolers to chew and munch on. When Mathias spoke, he did so quickly, in a rushed way, trying to get the words out of his mouth as fast as possible. “And this is Arthur Kirkland.”

The laughter at the table was shot, everyone silent. The mood soured, the elephant in the room suddenly remembered, the silent problem that they had been desperately trying to ignore.

In a playful, fun manner, one that was unusual for him, Arthur stuck his tongue out at them, bopping his head side to side. He ignored the sneers he received in return.

Vlad snickered, though seemed a bit confused, shaking his head at Arthur’s antics, while Lukas’ silent brooding had broken into a small chuckle. Arthur smiled, pretending that being bubbly and cheerful was his default mood, even if he was feeling almost the exact opposite. Smile and nod, he told himself, be the person they didn’t expect him to be.

Eyes wide, brow shot up, Mathias nodded before motioning to the bench. Vlad and Arthur crowded onto the bench, Lukas making a last-second decision to move to the other side. Arthur made sure to sit at the very edge, so he could easily slide out in need of a quick escape.

Mathias perked up, making a small, “oh”, sound, standing again. He chuckled breathlessly, rubbing the back of his neck. A habit, maybe. “Forgot to introduce everybody to y’all.” He cleared his throat as Arthur and his friends leaned forward, examining those at the table just as they did them. Lukas and Vlad with a bit more curiosity and much less hate than Arthur.

Mathias nodded his head to each person as he said their name, each one giving a small motion of acknowledgment in return. “Uh… I’ll go in order.” He began with his row, starting at the very end. “Alfred F. Jones, Kiku Honda, Ivan Braginsky, and me, of course.” The third of the mentioned, Ivan, smiled, while Alfred gave a half-assed grin. Kiku only deadpanned. Mathias turned his head to the bench on the other side, where Vlad and Arthur were sitting, doing the same type of introduction as he did previously. “Y’all’ve already met Gilbert Beilschmidt, then there’s Antonio Fernández Carriedo, and Lovino Vargas- Mr. Vargas’ oldest grandson. There’s also Francis, but he’s been out for the week.”

Lovino frowned at his own introduction, seeming displeased to have been associated with his grandfather. It must’ve been a regular thing, Arthur figured, for him to be so against it.

Alfred sniffled, crunching his face up as if he were trying to summon fake tears. He smacked his hands together the way someone would if they were deep in prayer, shaking them once or twice. When he spoke, his voice was laced with faux sadness. “We’ve lost our boy Francis to the flu.”

The table burst into laughter, Mathias yelling, “Rip Francis”. Arthur cringed as they earned several looks from the surrounding tables, some frowning and others rolling their eyes and returning to their lunch.

Gilbert, who had stayed silent during the entire exchange, was frowning as well. He pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, clearing his throat. He seemed to have recovered- if only a little bit- after his failure at humor, feeling enough confidence to speak again. “So, uh, how have y’all been settlin’ into yer new relationship?”

The conversation launched off at that, with Mathias and Lukas raving about each other and their date together. And though he had heard both sides in a total of around a million times, Arthur smiled through it, laughing at all the parts he was supposed to, along with everyone else.

Mathias and Lukas exchanged sickening smiles as they talked, Arthur having to occasionally shove down a gag and Vlad failing to.

Arthur sometimes found himself leaning down to look at the others at the table, measuring their reactions to certain parts. At any time Arthur was mentioned, Alfred winced the tiniest bit, hiding it behind Kiku’s hair. The latter tensed each time, swallowing hard, but relaxed and smiled a few moments later, giving a few loving glances in Alfred’s direction.

He was sure that he was the only one who could tell it was fake. Their movements were too tense, too robotic, as if they were only doing it because they were expected to. As if everyone figured and knew that they were going to do it, and would raise questions should they not go along.

And he had to admit to himself, though not verbally to any one else, that it was amusing and relieving to see it.

He looked away, knowing that if he stared for any longer he would be caught. As he turned his gaze to the left, Antonio- he already had to see his neighbor at least once a day, for god’s sake-glared daggers at him, a scowl etched on his face. Arthur smiled in response, bright and kind, and returned his attention back to the conversation at hand. He smirked when he heard Antonio quickly mutter something under his breath, something that anyone else would cringe at.

Perhaps Antonio should consider leaving his boyfriend to use that type of act, Arthur thought. It wasn’t doing much good for him.

Arthur perked up when Mathias and Lukas fell silent, just staring at each other with wonder and awe. Arthur was almost tempted to pull out his phone and look up how long the honeymoon phase of a relationship was supposed to last, but decided not too, if only because he didn’t want to drain his phone battery thinking about something so stupid.

The conversation had fallen flat, with everyone looking around, trying to think of a new topic. Occasionally, someone would open their mouth, prepared to say something, only to close it, a dejected look spreading across their face. The whole situation at hand was terribly awkward, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to slide out of the bench and walk away, off to somewhere quiet. Maybe the library.

After what seemed like ten minutes, like ten years, Vlad perked up, his eyes wide and a full-fledged smile twisting his mouth. So~. He looked around the table, giving each person a glance before moving on. “What’re our plans for Halloween?”

Arthur groaned. He had completely forgotten about the holiday a little more than a week away, a while he didn’t do anything, at the most leaving his house until the wee hours of the morning, he knew that this year wouldn’t be the same case.

For the first time since their lunch session had began, Alfred’s eyes widened, a bright, wonder-filled smile displaying straight white teeth on his face. He took in a sharp breath, shallowly waving his hands. “Oh my god. I love Halloween! There was this one time in middle school where Kiku came over to my house and we toilet-papered Mattie’s- oh, that’s my twin brother, by the way- room and it was hil-ar-i-ous! Kiku, ya remember that?” Alfred smile at his boyfriend, who only nodded back. Seemingly deeming his response valid, Alfred, laughing as if he were a child in a candy store, put his hands behind his head and leaned back. “Ah, man. Y’all should’ve seen Mattie when he walked into his room. From the way his hands were twitchin’, you could definitely tell he was gonna strangle me!”

Arthur laughed along with the rest of the table, not entirely seeing the humor in his story, Alfred pulling Kiku close as he joined in. The latter seemed uncomfortable in their new position, pushing his shoulders up and bracing his hands on the edge of the table. Alfred didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, his laughter didn’t fade, nor did his smile falter. Not even the teeniest bit.

Either these two were always like this, even at the very start, or Alfred F. Jones was one of the greatest actors Arthur had ever seen.

Mathias nodded his head as he chuckled, taking in a shallow breath when he calmed down. He shook his head before turning to Lukas. “Are you guys doin’ anythin’? For Halloween?”

Just as Arthur was about to open his mouth, to deny that they had plans, Vlad swiftly cut him off, nodding enthusiastically. “We’re gonna go trick-or-treatin in my neighborhood. There’s this old lady a couple blocks down from my house who gives out some big-ass chocolate bars every year.”

Arthur groaned, just thinking of all the chocolate he was going to be getting. American chocolate that made him want to puke his guts up. A few people turned his way, but he ignored them, instead favoring on reminiscing on his British sweets that he had been forced to abandon.

Maltesers, Cadbury Eggs, Smarties- the chocolate ones, not the American flavored cocaine. All of the delicious candies that he had to leave back in the UK, his mother not allowing him to take even on a small bag on the plan with him or pack one in his suitcase. As if she genuinely believed it would be the same here.

And now, here he was, stuck in a country whose chocolate would only appease those who had never tasted their superior British counterparts. It was a shame, really, that they would never be able to taste what he loved and adored so dearly.

Clearing his throat, he looked to Vlad, who was staring at him with a raise eyebrow. Arthur tried his best to look confused as he spoke, raising the tone of his voice. “Wait. We are?”

Vlad nodded shallowly, Lukas staring at Arthur as if he had just said the stupidest thing possible. “Yeah, man, we always go over to my place.”

Arthur deadpanned, cocking his head to the side. “I’ve never even stepped foot into your house.”

Vlad perked up, his eyes widening. “Right~. That’s right.” He nodded as if he knew it all along, Arthur having to hold in a snort.

The table fell silent for about fifteen seconds, until Mathias perked up, his smile bright. “I know what we could do!” Everyone looked towards him, their faces revealing varying amounts of interest. Lukas smiled, face serene, the ever doting boyfriend. Perhaps Kiku should take notes. “We could all meet each other and go out of Halloween together!”

Arthur opened his mouth, along with a few others, to object, but was quickly cut off by Vlad, who straightened his back, rolling his shoulders. The latter smiled, one that almost rivaled Mathias’, before yelling at the same pitch, “Oh my god! That sounds like a fantastic idea!”

Arthur groaned, along with Lovino, the latter rolling his eyes. There were a few quiet complaints from the others, Ivan deadpanning, and from the corner of his eye, Arthur could see Kiku the Snake start to deflate a bit.

Nodding enthusiastically, Lukas grinned. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

The three began to talk, making plans that the others would no doubt be forced to participate in. With the actual holiday being a not too far away, Arthur didn’t have much time to prepare himself for the night of hell, a memory that he would no doubt shut out of his mind afterward.

Leaving them to talk, with his eyebrows raised in an interested expression, Alfred leaned forward, hunching over the table. Arthur rolled his shoulders back, forcing a lazy smile over his face, rolling over possible answers to Alfred’s question as he spoke. “So, Arthur, how long have you been in the States?”

Swallowing down a snort, Arthur bopped his head side to side, looking off, pretending that he actually had to think about it. He shrugged, clicking his tongue. “Oh, late July, maybe.”

Alfred nodded, seeming satisfied with Arthur’s answer. “How do y’all celebrate Halloween in England?”

Arthur sighed at the question, not entirely expecting it. His family had never been too big on it, nor anyone in his neighborhood, his mother claiming it an excuse for Arthur to terrify young children. Nevermind that it Dylan and William were the ones doing such a thing, with Allistor and George cheering them on. But Arthur had always been blamed for everything, from putting worms in Peter’s wellies to shredding one of his father’s proposition letters. There wasn’t anything that he hadn’t done in his parents’ eyes.

Not that he really cared anymore. Arthur had long stopped trying to convince him that it wasn’t him who committed the crime, his resolve crumbled after falling on deaf ears more times than he could count.

He shrugged, curling his lip and furrowing his brow. “We don’t really do anything. I mean, some younger kids go out, but that’s about it.”

Those who were listening nodded, Alfred seeming a bit disappointed. Arthur had to hold in a scoff, just barely doing so, pursing his lips into a fine line. He was just about to open his mouth, about to ask what was wrong and what had them acting like their puppy was brutally murdered, when Antonio- Antonio, of all people- cut him off.

“Speaking of moving in, how did your family enjoy the Tarta De Santiago? Y’know, the almond cake that my mother spent hours preparing and making?” Arthur could taste the venom from his voice.

Arthur took in a sharp breath, giving a smile that mirrored Antonio’s. He had almost forgotten about that, which was a shame, since now that he thought about it, that moment was probably one of the highlights of his year. Relaxing, leaning back, with his smile turning nonchalant, he waved Antonio’s silent accusation away. “It was wonderful. It really… hit the spot.”

He knew enough of basic Spanish to know that what Antonio cursed at him wasn’t anything pleasant. In a quick, brutal succession of words, all the conversation at the table ceased, everyone silent and watching. How dramatic.

Arthur quickly put his hand over his mouth, his eyes widening. He tried his best to make himself look shocked. Distressed. Ever the victim who did nothing but respond to a simple question, only to be attacked for it.

Vlad straightened his back, glancing at Arthur as Lukas hopped up from his bench and quickly stepped over to them. He turned towards the end of the table, his expression wary and concerned. “Is everything alright here?”

Keeping up his act, if only because he was curious of what would happen if he were to go along, Arthur leaned back and to the side, whispering to his friends in a hushed and frantic tone, forcing a couple stutters along the way. “Guys- I don’t think that I’m wanted. Here, I mean.”

He was quiet enough that while Lukas and Vlad would be the only ones able to hear him, the others would definitely be able to hear the hushed sound of whispers. Arthur made a quick glance up, reveling in the pure wrath slathered across Antonio’s face and the irritated ones near him. It was hard, so, so hard, not to break into a smug smirk.

Lukas frowned, shaking his head, wringing his fingers. He let out a shallow breath, slumping forward, leaning in as Vlad turned around. “No, Arthur. Of course you’re welcomed. Maybe-” Lukas sat up, sending a short glance in Antonio’s direction, who was still seething, before turning back to Arthur and Vlad. “Maybe Antonio’s just having a bad day. Mathias said that he’s usually sunny and sweet.”

Arthur doubted that, instead thinking that Antonio had a bad day when he had to see Arthur, a daily occurrence, but decided to go along. He looked at the ground, wiggling one of his shoes- Converse, as he had been encouraged to try them out- and nodded timidly.

Even though he wasn’t even that deep into his little game, he could feel the rage radiating from Vlad. Arthur quickly turned around, seeing his friend’s jaw clenched, his fingers flexing. He tried to hide it, but Arthur was close enough that he would have been blind not to have seen it.

If Lukas noticed it, he didn’t show it, not even a twitch of the eye. Instead, he was focusing on Arthur, his concern growing more and more. Arthur had to hold in a snort, if only to keep his act up.

Vlad’s mood softened, if only a little bit, and he said with a sympathetic wince, “Maybe we should go…”

Lukas looked up at Vlad with no small amount of shock, before turning to Mathias. The latter winced, shrugging his shoulders, looking unsure about what had just happened. It was almost as if he had expected Arthur to lash out back at Antonio, to hit with just as much, if not more, wrath as he received.

Interesting.

Deflating, Lukas sighed and shook his head. He stood, leaning over the table to whisper into Mathias’ ear, and when the latter nodded, kissed him on the cheek.

Vlad put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, giving him a tight squeeze. Sensing that they were- finally- about to leave, Arthur stood from the bench, hanging his head and slouching his shoulders.

“Um, we had fun.” Lukas gave everyone at the table, save for Antonio, a small, forced smile, nodding his head. “Maybe we should do this again.” Unlikely, but Arthur figured he was just trying to be polite.

Where Arthur expected Mathias to be the one to respond, Alfred perked up, smiling and nodding his head enthusiastically. “We definitely should! I’m lookin’ forward to it!” As he finished, he sent a quick glance to Arthur, and the latter could’ve sworn he saw his smile falter. “Y’all have a good day.”

Vlad’s hand moved from Arthur’s shoulder to his upper back, rubbing it in a circular motion. After grabbing their backpacks, softly groaning at the weight, Lukas caught up to them, sorting between which one belonged to who.

As Arthur slung his over his shoulders, he clenched the straps, his knuckles turning white. Details, details were what made it convincible, made the act into something real.

As they walked away, though, heading to their own usual table on the other side of the pit, Arthur couldn’t help it. He turned, looking straight at the one they had just departed from, its occupants staring back. Antonio was still seething, Kiku simply giving a disinterested sneer. What was the most surprising was Alfred, whose smile had watered down into more of a wince, his brow furrowed. He actually looked worried.

But that all changed, their expression turning into ones of shock when Arthur, just for them, broke his act into little piece. Making sure that his friends wouldn’t notice, he smirked, a smug little thing that even his mother would be proud of, sticking his tongue out and wiggling it side to side.

If he were to recount this lunch period ever again, then Arthur wouldn’t be exaggerating when he would say that Antonio’s howling could be heard throughout the courtyard.

FYI, just writing those few paragraphs about chocolate in the US was painful to my American soul. Ghirardelli is some pretty good stuff.

I’ve realized that I mention Arthur’s older brothers without anyone actually knowing who they’re supposed to be. Allistor is Scotland, William is Wales, Dylan is Ireland, and George is Northern Ireland. And, of course, Peter is Sealand. It’s really weird when people write Wales, N. Ireland, and Scotland as England’s brothers without including Ireland? That just really gets to me? I mean, I know Hima listed those three as his brothers, but it just feels… weird. So Arthur will have four older brothers in pretty much all of my fics.

Also, thank you thank you thank you to all those who participated in my survey for chapters 1-10! It was really nice to read what y’all had to say about what you liked and what I could improve on. While you may not think so, it helped a lot! Arthur is, of course, the favorite character, but I was also surprised to see Vlad show up a lot. Really, I’m just making my portrayal of Vlad as I go along, cause I’ve never really focused on Aph Romania, so it’s nice to see that everyone’s liking him so far. The least favorite character is a mix of Arthur’s mother and Kiku, which is definitely what I’m going for.

Once again, for those who participated, thank you so much! I’ll have another one for chapters 11-20 cause oh my god, it helped so much. I’ll be surprised if Cross Life doesn’t reach chapter 35, cause we’re not even halfway through yet. The chapter for Arthur’s plan will be in the next couple months or so (and I’m really nervous about it), cause I want it to happen by the end of the first semester.

Thank you for those who wished me good luck with school, as you can see from my late update time (one whole month, yuck), it’s already bearing down on me. I honestly did not expect this much homework, but what can you do :P. I’ll try to update as soon as I can, which will probably mean I’ll be a two weeks off at the most, but just know that I’m constantly working. I won’t discontinue this, cause honestly, Cross Life is my entire life right now. I constantly think about it.

Finally, I really wanna write Gilbert realistically and without using stereotypes (I’ve done a lot a research just for his short appearance in this chapter) so if I ever accidentally write anything offensive, please tell me. You would not believe how many tabs are open on my computer for research. Gilbert will be showing up more and more as the story goes on, because I love his character so much

Sorry for such a long note! I ramble too much. Anyways, thank you so much for reading Cross Life Chapter Eleven: Line Walking, and I hope to see you all soon! The next chapter will take place on Halloween, so I’m really excited about that. Have a fantastic morning, day, and evening!

#Aph UsUk #Aph UkUs #Aph America #Aph England #Aph Norway #Aph Romania #Aph Greece #Aph Prussia #Aph Japan #RantingFangirl #The Fanfiction Life of RantingFangirl

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