3~ (Margin Notes verse just cuz - so bb!Arthur)littlspecifictyAugust 2 2011, 06:50:43 UTC
Arthur hadn't meant to take out his bad mood on Eames and ignore him completely the other day. Whatever problems he is having with Mal need to be kept between him and Mal. Not bleed over onto Eames and Eli (who hadn't done anything to deserve being ignored - Eames especially wouldn't understand).
It was up to Arthur to make the effort to soothe whatever hurt he had caused on Eames' end.
So, the next day, finding Eames alone in one of the art studios, and goes over to him. His voice is soft, almost unsure, "Eames?"
Eames cuts his eyes only slightly away from his painting when Arthur calls for him.
"Arthur." He responds flatly. "What brings you here on this lovely afternoon?"
Caleb wasn't sure what to do about this. He didn't know the appropriate response to being ignored, to being hurt by someone he cared about like he did Arthur. He didn't want to sweep it under the rug because it wasn't okay. He definitely didn't want it to happen again. Arthur couldn't just ignore him whenever he was pissed at Eli or Mal.
They might all be together, but they weren't interchangeable.
Arthur flenched slightly at the tone and barely being acknowledged - it was really no better than he deserved, after all Caleb hadn't done anything to deserve how Arthur had treated him but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.
So, the voice that came out of Arthur was much smaller than he liked anyone ever hearing from him but it almost seemed like an automatic reaction to what he was feeling from the other boy, "You."
Adding, in that same small voice, leaning a bit on one foot, wondering now if he had misjudged the timing of this, "But if you're busy I can... leave..." He looked down at his shoes, ears feeling hot and utterly hating how he sounded but couldn't seem to help it.
Eames very nearly flinches back at Arthur's small tone, and then he feels guilty because he hated to see Arthur reduced to cowering and shifting away from him. He wanted Arthur to be comfortable in his presence in any instance.
He lays his brush down on his pallet and wipes his hands off on a rag so covered in paint it hardly does anything but smear what's still wet on them.
At the return of that pet name, the tone not nearly as closed off, Arthur feels something inside him push and, before he knows it, he's giving into the impulse he has been having since he first entered the room and saw Eames here.
He surges forward and hugs Caleb; arms wrapped around his waist from behind, face pressed into the back of the other's shoulder, and he squeezes the other a little. His voice is muffled but the sincerity is quite clear, "I'm sorry, Caleb. I'm sorry." Please forgive me.
Eames twisted around in Arthur's arms and wrapped his arms around the other teen trying not to get paint on him. He presses a small kiss to the corner of his mouth.
It was up to Arthur to make the effort to soothe whatever hurt he had caused on Eames' end.
So, the next day, finding Eames alone in one of the art studios, and goes over to him. His voice is soft, almost unsure, "Eames?"
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"Arthur." He responds flatly. "What brings you here on this lovely afternoon?"
Caleb wasn't sure what to do about this. He didn't know the appropriate response to being ignored, to being hurt by someone he cared about like he did Arthur. He didn't want to sweep it under the rug because it wasn't okay. He definitely didn't want it to happen again. Arthur couldn't just ignore him whenever he was pissed at Eli or Mal.
They might all be together, but they weren't interchangeable.
Reply
So, the voice that came out of Arthur was much smaller than he liked anyone ever hearing from him but it almost seemed like an automatic reaction to what he was feeling from the other boy, "You."
Adding, in that same small voice, leaning a bit on one foot, wondering now if he had misjudged the timing of this, "But if you're busy I can... leave..." He looked down at his shoes, ears feeling hot and utterly hating how he sounded but couldn't seem to help it.
Reply
He lays his brush down on his pallet and wipes his hands off on a rag so covered in paint it hardly does anything but smear what's still wet on them.
"No. You're welcome here, darling."
Reply
He surges forward and hugs Caleb; arms wrapped around his waist from behind, face pressed into the back of the other's shoulder, and he squeezes the other a little. His voice is muffled but the sincerity is quite clear, "I'm sorry, Caleb. I'm sorry." Please forgive me.
Reply
"Arthur, Arthur it's alright. Apology accepted as long as you can remember you can't treat us all the same."
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"Come on. It's not all bad. Cheer up."
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