Like a dame Fitz

I've made yet another muse...

You fucking guessed it. Follow @commodusreigns

your out of control

ffs

Redemption (closed starter)

#this is shockingly bad but ive had a few drinks so #deal with it

Fitz stood with his bag in hand and looking at this handsome man who was going to tell him why he was there. He wasn’t even sure what where even was. He reached up and scratched his head making his brown curls fall out of place.

He frowned deeply. So he had gathered that he was in trouble. This was punishment. For what he didn’t know. He sighed heavily and shook his head as he frantically tried to think if he had done anything worthy of such a punishment.

He bit his bottom lip and looked up at the obscenely attractive man, those eyes, the crease between his eyes, he looked in shape, how was he ever going to be able to focus, this wasn’t fair.

His mouth gaped as he listened to the reason he was there. His parents had sent him “Sin?” he looked from side to side and shook his head “no... no that’s not fair” he sighed in frustration. “I go to church, I dedicate my life to the lord...” he looked to the side as his mind was in shock “you know... I spent 6 hours the other day peeling potatoes for the church dinner... do I sound like I am a sinner to you” he put his bag on the ground and placed his hand on his hip. “I mean... If I am such a sinner then why would they eat my potatoes” he huffed. “Are you sure you have the right person?” he questioned as he bit his nail nervously.

Redemption (closed starter)

Fitz was cross that he didn’t pipe up and ask where on earth he was being taken and what the purpose was for. That was the problem with growing up in a place where everything was mapped out for you, there was no space for thinking and you were just expected to follow.

He was nervous and quiet, it was very unlike him. He gulped hard as he looked around, this place was in the middle of nowhere. He could technically run away. The streets were dark and they would never be able to find him. He could have a life away from the convent and life like a normal person.

Before he could make up his mind he heard someone coming to the door, the rattle of locks and wood scraping on wood made his hand tighten around his suitcase. He expected a tall terrifying old man to open the door and drag him inside but instead he was greeted by a handsome man, he was quite young and knew he he was.

He looked back at him for a moment as he processed what was going on. He frowned deeply before looking back into the darkness of the morning while his heart was like a jackhammer in his chest. He was guided into the building and looked around with big curious eyes. “How do you know my name?” he asked softly “what... have i done something wrong?” he frowned deeply not wanting to move too far away from the door.

#abbecoulmier

Stage Lights - Open starter

#Hey!#I wasn't expecting anyone to answer this so thanks :)#risingjay

Fitz stepped down off the stage, his feet moving so effortlessly as people greeted him off stage with compliments to which Fitz playfully dismissed them as too much. He grinned and laughed as he made his way to the bar.

It was time to celebrate, he was on a winning streak of stand up comedy shows. He was well known in showbiz but more known for his bar in Las Vegas, a long long way from his upbringing.

Fitz turned around to see a man waiting for his attention, he looked a little shocked and confused. Fitz’s eyes were kind and he was a sweet man, not like allot of people in performing. “Hey buddy” he smiled brightly showing off his white teeth and the light catching his feminine face, his curly hair fell over his forehead as his done its nightly fight against the hair gel.

“You okay there?” he had seen that look. It was the kind of look that said that Fitz had hit the mark. It was a completely different look from the one some men would have when they wanted to punch his face and call him a faggot, he was used to that, it never changed him or what he spoke about, he usually just retaliated with comedy.

“Can I get you a drink?” he pulled over a stool for his guest to sit down with him. The next act was coming on, it was some girl playing music on a guitar which fit well with everyone socialising and having fun. Fitz called over the barman to get a drink. “What you drinking stranger?” he turned to the young man.

Redemption (closed starter)

Fitz always knew he was different from his siblings. From a young age he was the only one who had to get up painfully early for extra bible studies and lecturing. His other siblings where not constantly corrected on their posture or told not to speak like that or to not be so familiar around other boys.

He knew what people said about him, he wasn’t stupid. The accusations followed him around wherever he went. He lived on in an extremely religious family in a closed community. Life and everything in it was about God and thanking him for their creation. The outside world was seen as sinful and the devils work.

When he was woken up and taken out of town he knew something was up. He kept quiet thinking it was just something he wasn't told about until they pulled up to the old church like building and handed his suitcase and was left there. He pressed his lips together and pulled his coat around him as he knocked on the large wooden door to get an explanation.

@abbecoulmier

#fitz #abbecoulmier

Stage Lights - Open starter

“Oh you haven’t lived till you've spent at least a year in a religious convent.” Fitz stood with the spotlight on him and the audiences eyes focused on him. “Its not just the fun of getting up at 5am to bless the sunrise and thank God that he didn't off you in your sleep... which is basically thanking someone for not murdering you” he got a small laugh from the crowd who sipped their drinks and smoked their cigarettes. “It wasn’t even a fun Church, we had no bands or magic healing where someone would faint and everyone cheers and sings a song” he sighed dramatically. “Oh no, our church was all about telling you everything you did wrong like... girls were girls and men were men” he smirked as the audience could see what was coming.

“Boys should be tough, protectors and hunters and gatherers” he chuckled and run a hand over his face and let out an exasperated sigh. Fitz got out a little mirror and checked his parted curly hair and applied some lip balm. He was very feminine for a man, always well dressed and danced more than he walked, his voice was soft and his eyes were decorated with natural eyelashes a woman would die for. “And then there was me” he grinned as he put his things away.

“Oh the good Lord tested my parents with me” he laughed and cringed. “I swear, I swear I heard my mother suggest they just put me in a dress and no one would know” the audience were eating out of the palm of his hand “my mother made me mime while we sung those depressive hymns, all I wanted to do with give the ole tunes some flare, a few jazz hands, maybe a little swing of the hips” he spoke as he acted it out. “You’ve never seen a mother die inside like mine did as she watched me wrestle the Mary costume off of a little girl so I could wear the long white dress with the little lace trim at the bottom, that gown hit me all the right places, I’m telling you, you should have been there” he threw his hip out flamboyantly. “My father just shrugged and said “at least he knows how to handle a woman”” Fitz rolled his eyes “denial will only take you so far” he sighed and then grinned. Fitz thanked the crowd and introduced the next act as he swiftly made his way off the stage.

#open starter #starter #gay rp #gay rp starter #could be any era #Im thinking the 60's #but it could be modern #open to m/f/nb

francisalberts

continued from ask (@fitzwalterclarance-blog)

forever. forever was a long time and yet here he was, turning up after what had been months without interaction - without showing his face to the other. life had been chaotic to say the least, and busy. not that frank minded - no, not at all - in fact he liked to keep busy, it kept him away from his thoughts that could haunt him in the night and drag him under the waves of depression and suicidal thoughts.

he still looked the same, if not a bit older. life did that to a man who had lived through many experiences - the good, the bad, and the ugly. but fitz? fitz was still in his prime. he might have looked slightly different, but his demeanor showed he was still the naive, innocent man he’d known for a long time. the young man frank had tricked into taking his money so he could make the bar his own, and the young man he had guided so that he wouldn’t become some kind of bum on the streets of vegas.

“kid, you don’t look like you’ve changed one bit-” a grin on his face, almost matching the others. white, pearly teeth showing themselves as he seemed to raise that natural cigarette - practically an extension of his arm - to settle between his lips. his bright blue - electrifying eyes - the most distinctive feature, if not for the scar on his cheek, looking at fitz as if they were the only two in the room. “i’ve missed you, kiddo. i’m doin’ dandy now that i’ve stumbled upon you. i was hoping you’d be workin’ t’day.”

Frank Sinatra, even the name made the hairs on his arms stand up for all the right reasons. The greatest love affair he could never grace the world with the story of. Fitz knew he would always run to the handsome man, he could run him over with with his car and Fitz would still be excited to see him. He knew it was some pathetic childish dream to be close to him but Fitz was a dreamer, its what he did best.

Frank had set his life up for success in a way he could ever dream. Fitz, a queer, excitable ball of energy that wasn’t just at any party, he was the party. For Frank to be interested in him, a nobody, an outcast, he still couldn’t believe he got to be close to him.

He was a dreamer but he wasn't a fool, there was no way that Frank could stay still, even with a wedding ring on his finger Frank could never be tied down, his was far too monumental for just 1 person to contain.

He couldn't help but grin “why thank you, I have to say you look healthy, been anywhere nice?” he asked as he lent against the bar with his whole attention on the the star in front of him. He tilted his head back and laughed “don’t talk about me like a pot washer, of course Im here, this place is mine you know, read the name above the door buddy. Some rich handsome man bought me the place you see, he must have been crazy” he smirked as he teased and looked into those perfect blue eyes.

#francisalerts

“What are you gawking at? Ain't nobody ever told y'it ain't polite to stare?”

Fitz run the damp cloth over the bar side and walked around the bar to Frank “hey this is my bar buddy, you wanna drink here expect to be gawked at” he playfully spoke as he pretended to be tough but failed spectacularly.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” he grinned “how you doing?” he asked as he perched on the seat next to him.

“do you… not want me anymore?”

“Of course I… I want you.”

It was all he wanted. All he wanted as a constant. His head was hurting, over stimulated by the feelings, sounds, sensations and thoughts that ran wild.

He was trying relentlessly to build courage inside of him. To ensure that he could show the other that he wanted him, but it was his nerves. Same old Arthur.

“You know I… I want you.”

He stands still. His pacing halted as he feels gentle, warm hands on his face keeping him focused on Fitz. They were so warm against his skin. Perhaps it was the fact they were closing in on the intimacy of their relationship. They couldn’t always just play pretend.

“I’m not scared,” He’s not good at lying. “I…i don’t want to do anything because it might mean youre not real. What if we… If I… And you’re not real.” He is trying his best to sound confident. To get his point across but he can’t. He feels as though he’s about to crumble. So many thoughts are flying in his head. They’re uncontrollable and making things blurred. But Fitzs eyes are so still. So beautiful that he could fall into their pool of light over and over again. “Aren’t you scared?”

He kept hold of Arthur’s face with his warm hands, keeping the mans focus on him completely. “I am real, my medical bills prove i am real” he smiled brightly with a shy hint to it. He couldn’t help his feelings for Arthur. He thought about him for more than he should. He like Arthur just understood him like no one else. Everyone else wanted Fitz to act normal, to be normal, to pretend like nothing had happened. Arthur never would ask him to cover up what was going on in his head.

He lent forward a placed a soft gentle kiss on his lips. He let the kiss linger for a moment and closed his eyes as he breathed through his nose and held him close. He pulled back and smiled shyly “see? I am real” he let one of his hands move down Arthur’s arm and held his hand with his thumb running over the back of his hand softly. “Of course I get nervous, but sometimes nerves just mean that you care” he told him sweetly. “We don’t have to do anything” he smiled softly.

“do you… not want me anymore?”

“Of course I… I want you.”

It was all he wanted. All he wanted as a constant. His head was hurting, over stimulated by the feelings, sounds, sensations and thoughts that ran wild.

He was trying relentlessly to build courage inside of him. To ensure that he could show the other that he wanted him, but it was his nerves. Same old Arthur.

“You know I… I want you.”

Fitz was finding Arthur so hard to read. This was not the first time that Arthur had come to his house and spent his time pacing around his living room. They used to be close, they used to lay in bed together, they used to dace around pretending to be lovers.

Doing something in real life was so much more harder than they had expected. He heard his panicked voice, he was telling him he did want him. Fitz walked forward and took Arthur's face in his hands “look at me” he told him “what are you afraid of?” he asked sweetly with concern in his eyes.

#mister-a-fleck #fitz

❛ okay , you’re really starting to scare me … ❜

“Scaring you? That’s a good joke.”

He’s pacing back and forth, toying with the gun in his hands.

He’s not been coping well with the chaos of the city, being this overstimulated all of the time and filled with so much adrenaline doesn’t do a person any good. It didn’t help that he’d been off his medication for sometime now, leaving him to be spontaneous and fuelled by his chaos.

He doesn’t consider the effect it might be having on Fitz. In fact, he hasn’t been the same with Fitz since his transformation. The relationship they built, almost non existent.

“…Do you want to hear a joke, Fitz?”

Talk. No guns. He looked down at the gun in his hand, it still had the safety latch on but it would be so easy to just take that off and shoot up the room. But he didn’t. There was something that had stirred in him at the idea that someone had called him Arthur after so much time had passed, and so much chaos had derived the city because of him. The Joker was a dog ready to bare its teeth, but Arthur was so tightly strung…so anxious and insecure…so lonely.

He slowly put down the gun on the table, his dark eyes, despite being hidden behind paint, still showed how disorientated and lost he looked in this moment, being addressed by a sweet voice and told it was his name. He knew it was his name, but there were also so many haunting memories that came with that. “…I remember,” he said slowly his eyes looking towards Fitz as he stepped away from the gun, weaponless. Although that meant nothing, really. He could still kill Fitz in a second if he wanted to.

If he wanted to.

He didn’t want to.

“I’ve missed you, Fitz.” his words are rare, a sudden inkling that Arthur was still there behind all of this clownery. He was still there. Still vulnerable. “..I haven’t seen you in so long.”

Fitz stood with his back against the wall. He took in a breath as his eyebrows knitted together. Arthur... or Joker was so on edge, so ready to pounce. He bit his bottom lip and deiced to take a step forward as Arthur put down his gun. His heart pounded in his chest as his stomach turned over.

He cared for Arthur, he had great compassion for him. He had been there when others were not and felt like he owed so much to him for still being alive. He wasn’t sure what he felt towards the Joker, he couldn’t get the image out of his head of a dog biting down on someones flesh and not letting go and that someone being Arthur. He didn’t want Arthur to be trapped in his own body.

When Authur said he remembered Fitz’s face softened a little and ne nodded slightly. Fitz didn’t have money or fancy words to give Arthur but he did have time. He gave the man time. Time to come around to the idea that Fitz was not a threat and hopefully a place where he could be himself.

Fitz tilted his head and took another step to meet the man half way. “I missed you too” he smiled softly “i seamed the city wanted you to itself and its too big for me to fight” he spoke with a sadness in his eyes. Fitz was lonely, he felt like he was always destined to be lonely.

Fitz held out his soft hand just in case Arthur wanted to touch him. He didn’t know why, maybe it was because Fitz found comfort in physical affection, maybe he felt like touch would prove that he was real or ground Arthur to the moment.

“Do you want some tea?” he asked with wide eyes as he nodded towards the kitchen “I have tea” he mentioned again with a smile. Fitz had improved but he would never be what he was before they kicked his head in at the station.

#Fitz #mister-a-fleck

❛ okay , you’re really starting to scare me … ❜

“Scaring you? That’s a good joke.”

He’s pacing back and forth, toying with the gun in his hands.

He doesn’t consider the effect it might be having on Fitz. In fact, he hasn’t been the same with Fitz since his transformation. The relationship they built, almost non existent.

“…Do you want to hear a joke, Fitz?”

Arthur.

He had not heard that name fall from anyone’s lips in awhile. It stopped him in his tracks. His head was overstimulated and behind his painted face, it was clear that he was struggling to associate himself with the situation as well as the environment. His eyes showing a certain vulnerability behind the blue paint.

He was remembering. Something was triggering in the back of his head. It was all fuzzy and warm…but also caused a sort of ache that was unavoidable. It made him stop pacing, grasping the gun tightly with one hand whilst his other went to his head to run his fingers through his thick, dyed hair.

“…You don’t want to?”

He’s almost surprised by that idea. The idea someone didn’t want to hear a joke. One of his jokes that he took such time to write and come up with.

“…You don’t find me… Funny?”

He’s talking as though it hurts him. Physically. But for some reason, he obeys Fitz and puts the gun down on the side. His eyes softening a little as though he’s recognised the younger man.

“… No one calls me Arthur anymore…”

Fitz’s heart was pounding heavily in his chest. He had never seen Arthur like this. When they were together causing trouble Arthur was still behind the mask of the joker but now he wasn’t so sure.

Arthur looked in pain, he wanted to reach out and help him but the Joker looked like a dog ready to bite. He didn’t know what to do, he was frozen in place. What had happened between when he had saw him last to now.

Fitz knew what had happened to him, he had a home now, life was somewhat stable. He kept a track of what Joker was doing, it was easy with the constant reports on the radio and the news.

“Of course I find you funny, I love your work” he spoke carefully as he stepped forward. “I just would like to talk, no jokes, no guns” he tilted his head and held out his hand for the joker to take.

“I call you Arthur, because that’s your name, that’s what I used to call you, do you remember that?” he asked sweetly wanting him to find some kind of safety in him.

#mister-a-fleck

❛ okay , you’re really starting to scare me … ❜

“Scaring you? That’s a good joke.”

He’s pacing back and forth, toying with the gun in his hands.

He doesn’t consider the effect it might be having on Fitz. In fact, he hasn’t been the same with Fitz since his transformation. The relationship they built, almost non existent.

“…Do you want to hear a joke, Fitz?”

He wasn’t sure how Arthur had made it into his apartment. He was sure he had locked the door and no one else had the key. His family had set him up with this place, thought it would give him so stability after he refused to come home becuase the police would find him there. His family felt guilty for the neglect of him when he was ill.

He didn’t fall out with Arthur, they never really said goodbye. It kind of felt like Arthur was gone and the only thing left was the joker. He wasnt sure how he felt about this joker guy. Fitz had fallen for Arthur, the sweet and kind Arthur that rescued him from that evil man.

He had not seen Arthur or the Joker in a while, people seamed to need him more than Fitz did and their visits became longer apart until he stopped hearing from him at all.

Now Joker was holding a gun while Fitz stood in the corner of his living room, trapped. He wasn’t sure if Joker was mad at him or just knew where to come to let off some stress.

His heart was pounding as he pulled his dressing gown closer around himself “Arthur?” he croaked out as he frowned deeply “I don’t wanna hear a joke right now” he told him as nervousness played heavily in his voice “lets... lets put the gun down and talk?” he suggested as he watched the man pace around his home.

“Come a little closer— please.“

Arthur listened. He wanted him closer and nearer to him. For the first time in…goodness knows how long. He felt inexperienced, mainly because he was, and he wasn’t sure what Fitz was expecting or anticipating from him.

There was this strange vibe in the room, how Arthur stood away from Fitz. He stood in the doorway, looking at Fitz who was in the other room - a few footsteps between them both.

He slowly moved closer, his dark maroon eyes settled on Fitz. “Why? You don’t want me this close.”

@like-a-dame-fitz

arthur was not used to this in any way. kissing was not something he was experienced in nor was he experienced with kissing a man in general, or a woman for that matter.

he could feel Fitz kissing him back however, as though perhaps this was what Fitz had wanted and been waiting for the entire time they had been in one another’s company. he cursed himself mentally considering whether he had missed certain cues or flirtatious words. perhaps he’d been given signals that he had just ignored and therefore left Fitz hanging. leaving the younger man to believe they were just friends.

his dark eyes are closed, his hand raising to touch Fitzs face. but he’s hesitant - his hand doesn’t go straight to touch the other man, but instead is settled in the air, floating for a moment until he has enough confidence to finally lay his hand against Fitzs cheek.

after a moment of kissing, he feels how his body is reacting and it makes him nervous - conscious of how new this is and unusual. he must be dreaming - fantasising - because this couldn’t be real. they had been just friends, and now this? it seemed improbable.

he has also noticed and felt how Fitz had moved closer, making him suddenly pull back, parting their lips for both breath and out of his own insecurities.

“…i don’t - I’m not-”

what was he trying to say? that this wasn’t a common circumstance for him? that he was a creepy loner as everyone believed he was? his leg was now tapping against the side of the bed, anxiously bouncing up and down, trying to get it to stop as he dug his knuckle into his thigh.

“…you wanted… That?”

#you-called-me-joker #omg these clumsy pair

Fitz felt something inside of Arthur, it felt like he was either on the edge of breaking or he had this desperate new found confidence. He never knew which one it was going to be at any time.

He couldn’t decide what half of Arthur he was being greeted with that night. He was kissing him back but he could still feel Arthur’s mind whirling around frantically. He wasn't there in the moment but he was sure that would always be the case.

Fitz just wanted to give him time. He wasn't going anywhere, he wasn’t going to tell him how to feel, he was just going to give him time. He knew that Arthur had not had much affection in his life, that made Fitz sad to think of. Fitz moved his hand up and placed it on top of Arthurs to press his hand against his cheek softly.

The younger man lent back when Arthur pulled back. His big wide eyes looked at the man he had been kissing who was now having some sort of crisis in bed with him. His swollen lips from kissing were parted before he trapped his bottom lip between his teeth.

He looked down with a small frown as it seamed that Arthur was going to tell him that he wasn't gay. He felt his cheeks heat up as blush crept onto his face. “You dont... we don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to... if you don’t like me like that” he cleared his throat as he moved back a little.

Fitz blinked a few times before nodded “yeah” he smiled softy, his wide eyes softened a little “I liked it, I wanted it... did you?” he asked needing some reassurance in all the confusion.

“Come a little closer— please.“

There was this strange vibe in the room, how Arthur stood away from Fitz. He stood in the doorway, looking at Fitz who was in the other room - a few footsteps between them both.

He slowly moved closer, his dark maroon eyes settled on Fitz. “Why? You don’t want me this close.”

@like-a-dame-fitz

His heart was beating at a pace he wasn’t used to. They’d always been close…and yes, perhaps there had been some flirting between them, well, as much flirting as Arthur could muster as someone who wasn’t experienced in these grounds - but he understood what Fitz was saying. Did he ever feel like he wanted to kiss him?

“…Yeah, but I-”

Arthur trailed off, not quite sure what to say - or what to do. What would a man like Thomas Wayne do in these circumstances? Men like Thomas Wayne were powerful so could probably pounce without the consequences in moments like these…Arthur didn’t want to be Thomas Wayne, but he always wondered what it might like to live a life that wasn’t his own. For him to be someone that wasn’t himself.

Arthur didn’t have the best luck. He had a life full of bad luck - and yet here he had the opportunity to do something. So why wasn’t he? Perhaps scared that he’d make a move and Fitz wouldn’t like it or would decide not to reciprocate.

But then why would Fitz bring this up? Arthur had to take a chance.

“Sometimes…most of the time.”

The man built up all courage he had, his toes curling as though to get grip of the floor where his legs dangled off the bed. He needed to be steady - balanced. He needed confidence.

He soon leaned across the bed slightly - allowing himself to press his lips against Fitz’s in an inexperienced, but warm kiss. Gentle, as though he didn’t wish to hurt the younger man - but was hungry to savour him.

Fitz gave Arthur space, he gave him time. He knew this was a big thing for him, he knew he might shy away. Fitz was taking risks now but he couldn’t wait anymore to find out if Arthur really liked him.

Arthur and Fitz were opposites in a way, Fitz had shared his body with other men, sometimes because he liked them and sometimes because he was bored. This was before everything had happened. Before his life just slipped away and swept to the side by others living their lives selfishly.

He perked up a little, his eyebrow raised when he heard the other man say he had wanted to kiss him. His heart jumped in excitement. He did want to kiss him. He was interested in him, it was a romance, everything they shared meant more than he thought it did.

Fitz’s brain was alight with thoughts and dreams of what was to be. He wanted to hold Arthur and go wild with what they could do together. It almost made his brain hurt with possibilities but before he could do anything he felt Arthur’s lips on his.

Everything else fell away from him. His hands moved to touch the mans chest. It was so soft, so nice, so comforting. For the first time in a long time his mind had stopped whirling around in panic. He kissed him back as he moved closer to him with wanting to close the empty space between them.

“Come a little closer— please.“

There was this strange vibe in the room, how Arthur stood away from Fitz. He stood in the doorway, looking at Fitz who was in the other room - a few footsteps between them both.

He slowly moved closer, his dark maroon eyes settled on Fitz. “Why? You don’t want me this close.”

@like-a-dame-fitz

Fitz tilted his head to the side as his eyes followed Arthur. Fitz wasn’t used to someone being so coy around him. The type of men he had been interested in before Arthur were forward, cocky but also didn’t treat Fitz with the care or attention that he really wanted.

This was new ground for him, he didn’t want to ruin the friendship they already had. He was sure that Arthur liked him, the touches, the hugging, they had even slept in each others arms. This wasn’t things that friends just did.

He smiled and turned to the other man on the bed. He gently took his hand carefully “I mean... do you ever feel like you wanna kiss me?” he asked not even sure if the signs he was picking up on were real, maybe he had made it all up.

“Come a little closer— please.“

There was this strange vibe in the room, how Arthur stood away from Fitz. He stood in the doorway, looking at Fitz who was in the other room - a few footsteps between them both.

He slowly moved closer, his dark maroon eyes settled on Fitz. “Why? You don’t want me this close.”

@like-a-dame-fitz

Fitz was feeling clingy. He didn’t want to be annoying. He didn’t want to push it too far but he was sleepy and he wanted to feel Arthur next to him. Fitz looked at Arthur with his big brown eyes and parted pink lips.

Fitz laid on the bed bed and licked his lips “because I miss you” he smiled softly. The past few weeks had been crazy. They had been running and hiding until they had found the empty apartment they were staying at.

“Arthur? Do you like me?” he asked sweetly with a curious look on his face.