The Lighthouse | ARTHUR CURRY: I

SEVEN

• • •

A loud bang jolted me awake, and for a moment I didn't know where I was. Instead of being greeted by my dog I was looking at a pile of books about the ocean.

Arthur wasn't next to me. I grimaced, sitting up. His side of the bed wasn't warm, so he's been up for a while. I found the yellow shirt he lent me the night of the storm and pulled it on as I looked out the window. It was barely dawn, and I could see somebody out by the shed.

Smiling, I quickly ventured downstairs my muscles were a bit tight around my hips and torso. Sore. The generator must've gone out again last night. I made my way to the back door. It was dark out, the birds were beginning to chirp, and the air was thick and fogged my glasses as I opened the door.

The grass was damp beneath my bare feet, and I wished I grabbed my shoes. Happy that the shirt was gigantic on me and not showing too much leg in the open, I walked towards the shed. I couldn't see Arthur, but I could hear him moving things around. I made it to the door, it was slightly ajar, and I was about to open it when I heard something that made my blood run cold.

"I say again, why are you outside?" Arthur asked from behind me, and I turned to him, my eyes wide.

"Where'd you come from?"

He frowned at me, "The store. I didn't have batter for the surprise pancakes...that aren't much of a surprise anymore." He studied me for a moment, "What's wrong?"

"I-,"

There was a loud crash inside the shed, and Arthur yelled for me to move, but before I could, something burst from the shed. I fell to the ground covering my head, glancing up only to see something large, black and ominous slither across the lawn before diving into the bay.

Arthur was by my side in minutes. His hands all over me and are checking for wounds.

"Ingrid, are you alright?"

I looked up at him, "No, I'm not. What the hell was that thing?"

Arthur only looked at me with a furrowed brow and a tight grimace as he helped me up. He led me to the house, snatching up the grocery bag.
Inside he wouldn't let me go upstairs until he checked me over again.

I sat on the counter as he cleaned the mud off of my face with a wet cloth. While he wiped my face and arms, I watched his face. He was calm, his features passive, but I could see he was angry. His eyes had grown dark, and I placed my hand on him, stilling his movement.

Our eyes locked and I smiled at him, "What are you thinking about?"

"Getting this mud off you." He deadpanned, his deep voice was void of any sarcasm, and I sighed sliding off the counter.

"That can wait. I'll take a shower later." I told him turning to look up at him; he had an eyebrow raised.

"Why don't you make those pancakes for me?" I asked sitting down at the table nudging the grocery bag with my foot.

"You don't want to talk about what just happened?" He asked crossing his arms across his chest, and I cocked my head.

"No, I want some pancakes."

With narrowed eyes on me grabbed the bag and began to cook. I watched Arthur make the batter and noticed the tension in his shoulders subside. He had calmed down. I watched the muscles in his back move with every movement. His tattoos are dark against his skin. They traveled halfway down his hips and stopped on his lower back. I was a bit surprised last night to see they didn't extend all the way down his body.

He, on the other hand, was surprised to see the tattoo right below my breasts. In delicate cursive was the name of my favorite flower. The feeling of his tongue tracing the letters made me shiver, and I glanced at him. He had pulled his hair above his head, probably grew hot while by the stove.

"Can you get the milk out?" He called over his shoulder.

"Yep."

The fridge was shockingly stocked with food, and I located the milk talking it a back to the table, "There's only chocolate milk."

"I know," he told me handing me two glasses and plates and utensils.

I also grabbed butter and set the table. Arthur had finished, and I could smell the food now, my stomach grumbling. I waited for him to serve the pancakes, but instead, he shielded my eyes with his hands and leaned in from behind me.

"Arthur, what are you doing?"

"It's a surprise, remember."

"Oh, right." I played along and waited for him to remove his hands.

Arthur's mouth planted a kiss on my shoulder, up to my neck and by my ear whispering, "Do you like blueberries?"

Laughter exploded from me, "Blueberries?! I expected something hotter than that with the way you're kissing me."

"Let me try again." He cleared his throat and kissed my shoulder again, this time his teeth grazed my skin, and I shuddered as his lips trailed up to my ear. In a deeper more sultry voice he spoke again, "Do you like blueberries?"

I bit my lip to stifle my laugh and told him yes. He pulled his hands from my eyes and I leaned back to capture his lips. This kiss was a bit difficult, but we managed.

"Eat your pancakes," he said pulling away to sit across from me.

In front of me was a stack of three pancakes and the top one had several blueberries on it saying, "Fish are friends?" I looked up at him confused.

Arthur simply held up his plate, "Not food." He responded with a smirk.

We eat in silence mainly because I wasn't filling it. I was famished and these pancakes were perfect. Arthur poured me a glass of chocolate milk.

"Did you forget to get white milk?" I asked pushing my plate away as I sipped the milk.

"Nope. Chocolate milk is better."

"That it is." I waited a few moments before speaking, "Was that thing from Atlantis?"

"I'm not sure."

"How are you not sure, Arthur? I mean the thing was running from you, so I don't think it expected you to be here." I pondered.

He was unusually quiet across from me, and I leaned forward thinking maybe he hadn't heard me, "I didn't see it very well, but it looked slimy and swam back into the water. Had to be Atlantean, right? Not that you're slimy, but it was fish like."

I fiddled with my fork a bit wary of his lack of responses, "Arthur?"

"Um."

Him saying 'um' caught my attention, and I looked up at him, "Um?!"

He bit his lip and looked at me, "I haven't been to Atlantis yet. I can't find it."