You opened the front door to your cottage, imediatally retreating to your old, warn out couch infront of your living room window. Jumping onto the red furniture you couldn't even call stable for sitting on, you continued to grip the pirates jacket in your hands. You layed on your back, staring at the ceiling fan that that continuously spun, never seeming to slow or get any faster. You closed your eyes, the grip around the clothing getting tighter.
Why was this stranger giving you mixed feelings all of a sudden? Even though a good portion of them wern't good, you still felt a connection to him somehow. A connection you couldn't quite explain or understand yourself. Groaning, you put the jacket over your face, spreading your arms out slightly.
And those eyes. Those deep, emerald eyes.
You got up from your position on the couch, crouched on your knees, and chucked the coat across the room. It landed with a soft thud against your brown closet door, sliding down slowly onto your dull colored carpet. You plopped your face into the white, crocheted pillow you had gotten as a gift a few years back, gripping the back of it until your knuckles grew to a light color. You layed there, eyes closed as tightly as they could go, contimplating on what to do about your emotions. Because you really thought you liked Mattie. He seemed to be the total opposite of Arthur. He was sweet, kind, and was usually always polite, even when people didn't seem to notice him. But the thing is, you always did. You could always pick him out of a crowd, no matter how big it may be. You could detect his voice out of anyone elses.
But Arthur was a completely different story.
He seemed mysterious in a way- you couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. He seemed to have alot weighing on his mind. Even though you had only met him recently, it was like you could read him. There was just a certain aura that seemed to surround him.
Sighing, you rolled back onto your back, taking the rose out of your pocket. The flower wilted slightly, a brown, crinkled petal on its verge to falling off and making a journey onto your stoumache. You plucked it off with your fingers, holding it up so it was directly above the light. It seemed to shimmer slighlty, the bright light soaking into the dead petal.
"I hope the rose doesn't die." You murmered to yourself, lowering your arm to your side, the petal still gripped between your two fingers. "I should probably put it in some water..or in the sunlight. Whatever you put flowers in.."
You got up, grunting the slightest bit as you did so. Padding into the kitchen on your bare feet, you tried to remember which cupboard you kept the vases- If you even had any. You stould on your tip-toes, attempting to reach the wodden cupboard above your little white fridge with way too many magnets. After a few more moments of this, you gave up and proceeded to the one above your stove, which you were a little more capable of reaching than the other. You barely got it open, peering inside it. The only things you saw was a box of chicken flavored ramen, a red and green christmas mug with a cheery looking Santa plastered on the front of it, and a can of tomato soup that was probably way overdue on its experation date.
Just as you were about to open another cupboard, a load banging sound illuminated from the living room. Groaning, you set the dead rose petal on the counter, and walked towards the front door.
"I'm coming!" You irritatidly yelled, the loud knocking ceasing to stop.
You opened the door a crack, peeking your head through the slightest. "Ye-"
Your greeting got cut off by the door being shoved open, a man barging his way in and wrapping you into a giant bear hug. Trying to catch your breath, you squirmed to get free of the mans tight grip.
"________!" The man squeed, swinging you around in a little circle. "How's it goin'?!"
"A-Alfred?" You choked, trying to get a better look at his face.
"Yeah, dude! Who else would it be?" He rejoyced, loosening his grip and looking you into your (e/c) eyes.
You smiled widely, now accepting his hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. "A deranged phyco killer who barged into my house to tackle me with hugs?"
"I'd love for that to be in a horror movie. Maybe I could actually watch it without wussing out!" Alfred joked, letting you go, tucking his thumbs into his pockets. You smiled warmly at him, trying to recall the last time you had seen your hamburger loving friend. Like Matthew, you had know him for the longest of time.
You remember the first time you had met Alfred. Mattie and you had been playing out in the hot sun as children, spraying each other with little green water guns that his older brother Francis had bought you just for the occasion. Having insisted that the water guns wern't quite enough to cool you down, you grabbed the hose connected to the house and sprayed an area of dirt in the front lawn. Being the little children you were, decided to make a game out of it. You both agreed that the one who could slide the farthest on their bellies across the brown, thick liquid would be the winner. Matthew had slid halfway, managing to only get the front of him lightly coaked in mud. You were determined to get yourself as dirty as you could, cooling off and winning the game at the same time. Crouching about ten feet away from the puddle so you could get a good head start as build up speed, you saw someone dart infront of you and jump into the mud pile.
This action caused Mattie and you to get soaked in brown, your tiny child minds trying to process what had just happened. Wyping your eyes, you saw a kid about your age sitting in the middle of the puddle, splashing and sloshing in it to his hearts content. Francis came outside with lemonade with a little wedge of fruit sticking out from the cup, not noticing the sudden presence of a third child. After drinking all your lemonade, chewing the ice as slowly as you could, you finally decided to tell him there was a strange child bathing in a pile of mud on his front lawn. He didn't seem to phazed about it. In fact, he just smiled, picked up the muddy child, and ruffled his blonde dirty hair. He then explained to you that he wasn't a random stranger, but in fact a little boy named Alfred F. Jones. You then found out that he was Matthew's brother. This confused you, because you had never heard of him ever having a brother. Apparently he lived with a man from London, but you had never found out who it was due to the fact the little boy challenged you to your mud puddle race. As short as your attention span was, you didn't think twice about it.
You came out of your dazed state due to the snapping of fingers close to your right ear. You looked into the baby blue eyes of Alfred, and smiled.
"Dude." He murmered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Can I raid your fridge now?"
Mentally facepalming, you pointed your finger towards the kitchen. He didn't hesitate as he bolted to the kitchen, throwing the fridge open and knocking one of your many magnets off of it. You picked it up and held it in both your hands, studying it as Alfred began to shuffle through numerous bottles that stocked your shelves.
You hadn't recalled getting any sort of magnet with a giant grinning tooth saying 'Smile Wide' on it. It was probably one of those free-bees they gave away for getting your teeth scraped and cleaned thoroughly each time you went tp the dentist. Shrugging, you stuck it back onto the fridge next to your sad puppy magnet. You peered over your friends shoulder, seeing he had a piece of ham sticking halfway out of his mouth, a slice of cheese and some bread in his hands. He looked up to you, smiling widely through the pig product shoved in his cheeks.
"Finding what you need?" You asked, not surprised at all if he just took your whole fridge right then and there.
"Mhmm!" He said, chewing the food in his mouth.
When he had eaten the ham, he shoved the bread and chedder cheese after it, closing the fridge and leaning up against the counter. He chewed, then swallowed contently, rubbing his stoumache.
"Good eats." He said, smiling at you.
"Since I let you eat, you should Help me." You said, folding your arms and looking up to the cupboard above the fridge.
Alfred let out a groan, looking in the direction you were.
"Work for food." You murmered, pointing towards the cupboard. "Now reach."
Without another word, he opened the doors with ease, peering inside.
"Is there a vase in there?" You asked, trying to look inside.
Alfred nodded, and pulled out a tall, blue vase. He handed it to you, examining the rose you picked up off the counter. You went to the sink, and twisted the faucet on, holding the vase underneith it. You stould there in silence until the water had filled it to the top, turning the faucet back so it turned off completely. Smelling the rose once more, you carefully set it in the water, looking over to Alfred. He had a sly smile on, arms folded across his chest. You returned the smile, a tad confused.
"What?" You asked, setting the vase infront of the window.
"Should I be jealous?" He playfully asked, ruffling your (h/c) Hair.
You lightly shoved his hand away, smiling as you did so. "Yes. You should be very jealous. Be jealous of the amazing flower."
"So who's the lucky dude?" He asked, leaning forward and rocking on his heels.
All at once, you went silent. You mentally debated with yourself whether or not you should tell him about Arthur Kirkland. He was, after all, a pirate you had just met in the woods not that long ago. As long as you've known Alfred, you knew he would either be all for it, or concerned beyond belief. The longer you thought about it, the longer he kept staring at you, waiting for an answer. Sighing, you decided to just come out and tell him. What harm could it do?
"Arthur Kirkland." You murmered, looking down uncomfortably, rubbing the back of your neck.
He didn't answer right away, but instead looked down upon you in confussion and surprise.
"Arthur..Kirkland?" He murmered, not saying anything else.
You nodded, looking up at him. "Is there..something wrong with that?"
Instead of replying, he set a hand on your shoulder, nothing but concern in his expression now. "Dude, when I say this, I absolutely mean it. Don't go near him. That guys nothing but bad news."
Squinting, you looked up to him, arms at your sides. He probably should have told you that before you went to find the pirate. Now that you had made a deal with him, you really couldn't back out now. And plus, what did Alfred know? After all, Arthur was mythical pirate that travled the world, only appearing to those who truly desired to see him. How could he possibly know who he was? You took your friends hand off your shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes.
"You..didn't make a deal with him, did you?" He asked, ignoring the fact you had brushed him away.
"What if I did?" You asked, not caring whether or not the pirate was dangerous.
He just sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing his hand over his face. "Did you? Because for your sake, I hope you didn't."
You pondered on that a moment. He seemed odly serious about the whole situation, and to tell you the truth, it frightened you in a way.
You had known Alfred to be wrong about..well..almost everything. Most of the time, it was about little things, like the time he said he could eat thirty hamburgers in a sitting without up-chucking. You wished you hadn't been in the middle of McDonalds when he lost the bet, but you were, and you had to be concerned about him at that moment. But looking back on it now, it was hilarious. And on the ambulance ride to the hospital- classic. He was dead set that he was a 'Hero' and that 'Hero's don't get sick. Hero's should be immune to the fatty goodness that was the Big Mac.'
He was wrong.
But looking at him now, the seriousness planted on his face, you knew he wasn't playing around. This wasn't one of his 'Legendary Big Mac' Challenges that wern't really so legendary.
"Look," You murmered, poking his cheek. "Stop being so serious. If you want, i'll pay extra special attention to him. I'll watch him like a hawk. Okay?"
As soon as you said it, his glasses were already pushed back onto his face, another one of his toothy grins forming. "M'kay! But just be carefull. Trust me on this one."
You gave him a blank face, surprised at how quickly he snapped back. Sighing, you began 'leading' (A.K.A forcefully pushing) him back to the front door. "As much as I loved this little...visit, I need to do stuff. Some productive stuff. Now begone."
Alfred stopped in the doorway, setting both his hands on the doorframe, causing you to stop, hands on his back. He turned his head to you, hands still gripped to the frame. You continued to push on his back as hard as you could, not quite ready to give up yet. When pushing his spine with your fists didn't work, you turned around and tried pressing your back to his, digging your heels into the carpet. He just snickered at you, seeing as though you wern't quite strong enough to get him to leave. When you just decided you failed your mission, you slid to the floor, wrapping your arms around your legs.
"Come on, don't give up yet!" He laughed, knudging your shoulder with his elbow. "You were so close!"
"I didn't give up," You pouted, setting your chin on your knees. "I failed."
You looked up to him with your best pouty puppy dog face, arms still wrapped around your legs. Alfred just gave a sad smirk, and ruffled your hair once more, only lightly this time.
"Fine. I'll go." He said, starting to walk out the door, his hand clutching the doorknob. "But remember what I said."
"Yeah, Yeah, don't trust the evil pirate." You murmered to yourself, setting your cheek on your left knee.
You expected Alfred to hear that and make a smart remark before he left, but all you heard was the sound of your cottage door creaking shut behind you, the quietest of footsteps walking down your paved walkway and down to the sidewalk. You got up slowly, and padded your way over to your front window. Standing infront of your worn out couch, you watched your friend get farther and farther away. And as if he knew you'd be watching him, Alfred raised a hand and gave you a peace sign, back still to you. You smiled, giving him a peace sign back, knowing he probably wouldn't look back to you either way.
When you finally couldn't see him anymore, you made your way back to your little kitchen to check on the rose. Even though a little part of you knew flowers didn't need to be checked on very often, especially after about five minutes of putting it inside a vase full of water, you just wanted to check. It would bug you if you didn't. Plus, you had to throw away that shrunken, dead petal before you forgot and left it on the counter.
Once you were in the kitchen, your eyes automaticly darted to the vase sitting in your little window, the flower basking in the dark sunset going down for another day. You went up to it, stroking the soft petals the plant posessed as you stared dazily out the window. It didn't dawn on you until now how tired you actually were. Yawning, your hand clumsely reached for the petal. You picked it up between two fingers, walking over to the trash can to throw it away. You set your foot on the trash can lever, making the lid pop open and hit lightly against the wall. You held the petal over the can, two seconds away from dropping it. But before you did, you noticed the sudden life beaming from it. The petal was no longer wilting and scraggled, but more lively and red. It was no longer a dead.
Surprisingly enough, this didn't faze you as much as it normally would have. You'd been through so much that day- Matthew asking you to the ball, following a tiny, mint colored bunny into a dark forest you wouldn't ever dare step foot in, meeting a handsome pirate whom had magical powers anyone would usually die to have, and having your childhood friend who you hadn't seen in forever barge into your house, hug you, raid your fridge, and tell you not to go around the pirate you had met not an hour or so earlier. To you, this was like a masquito bite. It surprised you for only an instant, and nothing more. Sighing, you closed the lid and went over to the vase once more. Dropping the petal into the water, you shut off the light to the kitchen, leaving it completely dark, only the small light from the moon shining in through your glass deck doors.
You manuvered your way past the small kitchen table and its single wooden chair and over to the deck doors, opening them just enough so you could slide through. It was probably colder than hell out, and you didn't want your nice warm house to get contaminated by the nights brisk, nipping temperature. When your feet stepped onto the wooden deck, a chill was sent up your spine. You shut the door behind you, ignoring the cold that wrapped itself around you like a thick blanket. Blinded by the darkness, you tried to find the ledge of the deck. When you felt the wood brush lightly against your fingers, you set your now pale hands upon it, more relaxed now. You leaned your arms against the stiff wood, putting your head in the palm of your hand. You yawned loudly, covering your mouth with your free arm, tears prickling at the sides of your (e/c) eyes.
As you sat there in darkness, staring face to face with the woods you encountered earlier that day, you were reminded of Arthur, and what you had said to him before he left.
"It's just that..I can accomplish things on my own. I don't need your charity or wishes to make it come true. All I need is that one thing. After that, you an be on your way, and I can be on mine.."
You covered your face with your hands, your face and ears beginning to turn hot. Why had you said that? It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now that you had finally thought it over, you relized how wrong you were. I mean, you did want to accomplish things on your own. You were capable of doing that. But you thought of how you said you both probably shouldn't see each other again. That tiny pang of shock that seemed to jolt through his body. You rubbed your eyes, wondering if you would ever see him again.
You would...right? He had to find you to give you the dress, after all.
But then again, he could just pop the dress in your cottage while you were sleeping. He had magic to be able to do so.
You let out a frustrated sigh, staring up to the moon, fingers rubbing your temple with your hand. What you really needed was a good nights sleep. But that was the thing. If you tried to go to sleep, your brain would try to argue with you, taunt you with thoughts that you didn't want to hear. In fact, it was doing exactally that at this very moment. You shook your head, removing your hands and sticking them into your pockets to try to warm them.
'Forget about him for the night.' You thought. 'Worry about it tomorrow.'
You walked towards the glass door, your hand resting on the steel handle.
"Perhaps your falling for me, poppet."
Stiffening, you gripped the doorhandle harder, setting your fourhead against the cool glass of the door. "Shut up." You murmered, opening the door, much wider than you had before. You felt the breeze flow into the house, mixing with the warmth of your kitchen. Slamming the door behind you, rubbing your hands over your eyes, stumbling blindly through the hallway.
"Didn't I just tell you to shut up?" You asked, clicking on the light to your bathroom.
You looked into the finger printed, smudgey mirror at your reflection, noticing you had light bags under your eyes. You poked at them, grabbing your (f/c) toothbrush off the counter. Yawning, you squirted an excessive amount of Colgate onto the brissles of the toothbrush, stuffing it into your mouth as you closed your eyes.
"Just trying to help."
You ignored the british voice, continueing to brush your teeth. Green and white foam started to drip from your mouth, traveling its way down to your chin. You spit the contents out of your mouth and into the sink, wyping the fluid off your chin with your wrist. Turning the faucet on, you cupped your hands together and put them under the lukewarm running water. You raised your hands to your mouth, sipping the water and swishing it back and fourth between each cheek. You spit it out, and shut the faucet off once more.
Clicking the light off, you trudged off to find your room, frustration and exhaustion brewing inside you.
You stuck your head into a random room, peering inside. The little light that was provided from the window helped you see that this was not your room, but in fact the guest room. The white bedsheet was still made, due to the fact your rarely had guests over. Or at least, nobody ever stayed the night. One of the only times the bed had been used was when your parents had come for a visit a few days. That was over two years ago.
To your surprise, you had actually found your room this time. You walked in slowly, slinking towards your messy, unmaid bed where your crumpled up pajamas lay. You silently slipped into them, throwing your dirt covered clothes into the hamper beside your closet. The pants made it in, but your shirt bounded out of the bundle, landing onto the floor. Too lazy to go and pick it up, you just collapsed into your bed. You rolled over to the side you normally slept on, wrapping up in the mountain of blankets you kept handy.
You laid your head on the pillow, carefully setting your hands underneith it. As soon as you closed your eyes, you could feel yourself drifting into a peaceful sleep. Smiling silently to yourself, you dreamt about a magnificent ball.