Uncommon (BWWM)

Chapter 20

"Mother?!" Arthur's voice is quiet, unnecessarily so for 11pm on a Friday night.

Before them, is the most intimidating woman Grace has ever laid eyes on. She is tall and slim, like a catwalk model. Though her body lacks curves, she pulls it off with the way her elegant black trench coat fits her. She reminds Grace of a mannequin in a storefront. On her face is an attempt at an inviting smile. Grace thinks she looks a bit like a shark... But that might just be Grace's fear piping up. This is Arthur's mother, after all.

Even without her boyfriend's outburst, Grace would have guessed who she was. She and Arthur share so many similar characteristics. They are both tall and lithe, wearing their height with exceptional ease. Arthur inherited her nose, long and thin, ending in a cute button shape. Like her son, her skin is pale, with a sun-kissed warmth to it.

Unlike his mother though, Arthur's hair is light brown with lovely natural waves which fall in front of his face like curtains. Alexandra's hair is long and dead straight, the dark colour blending into her coat. It stays perfectly in place as she shifts her gaze between them.

"Sweetheart!" She exclaims, the silence broken as she pulls her son into a hug, "Oh, I've missed you!"

Arthur, still in a state of shock, wraps his arms around her tightly. He closes his eyes and inhales her familiar scent.

"Mum." His body sags, completely succumbing to the embrace.

After a few moments, Arthur lifts his head to look down slightly at his mother, "What are you doing here?"

She grins, "Can't I check up on my son?"

Arthur narrows his eyes, letting his gaze dart to his left, where his poor girlfriend is stood awkwardly.

"I know you better than that, Mum." He tells her, one brow raised. He takes a step back and folds his arms across his hard chest.

Grace is frozen. She isn't sure what she's doing, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she hopes that the stiller she is, the less likely she is to be noticed. At least that's how it works in the nature documentaries. She is aware, however, that she sticks out like a sore thumb.

The Duchess of Gloucester sighs and rolls her eyes defeatedly. She fixes a knowing smile on her face and glances in Grace's direction. The girl's attempt at camouflage had clearly failed.

"So, this is the famous Grace, hm?" She asks him, though her eyes are still scanning the short girl.

Grace is mortified, hyperaware of her basic jeans and nerdy t-shirt. Her hair is thrown into a lazy half ponytail, comfortable and out of her face. She hasn't got any makeup on; she doesn't wear it much anymore, at least not on a regular day. She no longer feels the need.

Today though, she curses her newfound confidence. Because if she'd put on makeup this morning, then she wouldn't be stood here feeling like an absolute troll in front of her boyfriend's stunning and equally scary mother.

"H-Hello." She squeaks out. One hand moves slightly, vaguely resembling a wave. Well... Grace hopes it does since it really looks more like an involuntary twitch, "I-I'm-"

"Grace Evelyn Roberts." Alexandra interrupts reaching a thin hand out, "I know who you are."

"Oh." Grace replies dumbly. She stares at the hand in front of her for a few seconds before snapping her own out to shake it. "And you're-"

"Alexandra, Duchess of Gloucester." The older woman interrupts again, causing Grace to frown momentarily, "Arthur's mother."

"R-right."