Royal Disaster

the disastrous lunch

We both ignored Arthur's insulted protest. "I thought that it would be better if you heard it from him."

"How?"

His eyes hardened even further, lips pressing tightly together. The action worried me even more and I became wary, the anger in my voice diminishing slightly.

"And in what world did that sound logical?" I rephrased my question when he still didn't answer. North raised a hand, scratching at the back of his neck. Eyes narrowing at the tick, I opened my mouth ready to further interrogate him.

But to both our surprises, Arthur answered, "Because I'm gonna be responsible for you over the summer."

"What?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Have you listened to anything I've said at all."

And then my head ran back towards Saturday's disaster of a dinner. He was here to protect me. But what did he need to protect me from? Sunburns? If there was a time I needed protection, it was when I was home alone years ago. Not now.

"Yeah," I admitted unhappily, looking away from him. My lips pressed stubbornly together before I spun back to North. "But I don't get why you have to leave me with him!"

"Because you two need to get along," he sent a pointed look to me and then to Arthur. If it were any other situation, I would've laughed, considering North was my age and he was reprimanding Arthur and me as if we were five. "And I won't always be here to make sure you behave, so you need to get used to each other as soon as possible."

His gaze lingered heavily on me and I rolled my eyes. Why was I the one being scolded? Arthur was the controlling one. Satisfied with our compliance, he nodded, stepping forward to give me a kiss on the forehead. It lasted a little longer than usual before he stepped back.

"I'll be back later. Try not to kill each other."

"I give no promises," I grumbled, just as Arthur said, "Maybe you should handcuff her first."

After the sound of the door shutting echoed through the hall and into the living room, Arthur and I were silent. We were still standing stubbornly beside each other and we were both too prideful to make the first move.

Several minutes of standing later, he turned to me, stepping back when he realized our close proximity before sticking his hand out. I didn't turn, though.

"Maybe we got off on the wrong foot," he started off with a heavy exhale when I still didn't turn around. "So why don't we try this again."

Again? We never introduced ourselves in the first place. He didn't even tell me his name; I found out what it was by sneaking a peek at his airplane ticket when it slipped out of his passport. When I still didn't take it, he sighed, aggravated. From my peripherals, I saw him run a hand through his hair.

"Why are you being so stubborn?"

I stayed silent.

"For the sake of everyone's sanity, can we please try this again?"

The fact that he pleaded made me cock a brow. But I wasn't going to relent. Not until he properly apolo-

"I'm sorry."

At this, I turned a fraction of a degree. It caught his attention and he cleared his throat, continuing, "I'm sorry for being such an obnoxious ass."

I turned some more, prompting him. And...

"And sounding so commanding."

And?

"And insulting you. I get grumpy on jet lag," he admitted, cracking a small smile.