maddieclarkey2002

[maddieclarkey2002]

Something Different

~Fluff~

Arthur had always been there. Her brother’s best friend. A part of the furniture. Someone she never really thought about like that—not seriously, not in a way that meant anything.  

At least, that’s what she told herself.  But tonight, something feels… different.  

They’re alone in the kitchen, the soft hum of the fridge the only sound between them. Chris is out, and Arthur, for some reason, decided to stay behind. It isn’t unusual—they’ve spent plenty of time together over the years—but tonight, the air feels heavier, charged in a way she doesn’t quite understand.  Arthur leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He looks relaxed, but his eyes keep flicking to her like he’s trying to figure something out.  

“What?” she finally asks, raising an eyebrow.  

He hesitates. “Nothing.”  

“Liar.”  

A smirk tugs at his lips. “I just… I don’t know. You ever have a moment where something feels off, but you can’t explain why?”  

She frowns. “Off?”  

“Not bad,” he clarifies. “Just… different.”  

She considers that for a moment. Because yes, actually—she knows exactly what he means. It’s been happening all night, this strange shift between them, something just beneath the surface.  She just doesn’t know what to do with it.  

“Maybe you’re overthinking it,” she says, even though her heart is pounding a little too hard.  

Arthur exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Maybe.” But he doesn’t sound convinced.  Neither is she.  The silence stretches, and she suddenly feels restless—like if she doesn’t move, something is going to happen that she’s not prepared for. So she pushes away from the counter, brushing past him to grab a glass from the cabinet.  Only, she miscalculates.  

She turns at the same time he does, and suddenly they’re too close—closer than they’ve ever been. Close enough that she can see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, the way his breath hitches for just a second.  She should step back. She should laugh it off. She should do anything but freeze the way she does.  Arthur doesn’t move either.  His gaze drops—just briefly—to her lips, and something shifts between them, something she doesn’t have words for.  

And that’s when she realises—he’s thinking it too.  Whatever this is, whatever strange thing is happening between them, he’s feeling it just as much as she is.  

“Maybe,” she says softly, “it’s not that something feels different.”  

Arthur’s jaw tightens. “No?”  

“Maybe,” she breathes, “we’re just finally noticing it.”  

His adam’s apple bobs. His hands twitch at his sides, like he wants to do something but isn’t sure if he should.  And she wonders—how long have they both been missing this? Neither of them move. Neither of them speak. But in the space between them, something unspoken settles into place. And this time, neither of them can ignore it.    

Arthur doesn’t move.  Neither does she. They’re just standing there, inches apart, the air between them crackling like a live wire. She knows she should say something—anything—but her mind is blank, spinning with the weight of this moment.  Has it always been like this? Has she just not noticed before? Or is this new?  Arthur exhales sharply through his nose, like he’s battling something in his head. Then, finally, he steps back. Just a little. Just enough for the moment to not feel like a breaking point—but not enough for things to go back to normal, either.  

“I should probably—” He stops, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, it’s late.”  

It is. But she doesn’t want him to go.  

“Yeah,” she says, though it sounds like a lie.  

Arthur glances at her again, like he’s searching for something, but whatever it is, he doesn’t say it out loud. Instead, he clears his throat, reaching for his jacket draped over the back of a chair.  

She watches him, heart still racing.  

He hesitates before pulling it on. “You, uh…” He swallows. “You good?”  

She blinks. Good?What does that even mean?  Is she good with the fact that, for the first time in forever, she’s seeing him in a way she doesn’t quite know how to handle?  Is she good with the fact that he might be seeing her that way too?  Or is she good with pretending none of this just happened?  

She licks her lips. “Yeah. You?”  

Arthur lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “Not even a little.”  

And before she can process that answer—before she can ask him what it means, what he means—he’s gone.  

For the next few days, she doesn’t see him.  

It isn’t unusual—Arthur has his own life, his own job, his own friends. But it feels different now. Because normally, he’d be here. He’d be lounging on her couch, playfully arguing with her brother over something stupid, throwing some half-teasing comment her way.  But now? Nothing.  And it drives her insane.  

“Where’s Arthur?” she asks Chris casually one evening, pretending not to care too much.  

He shrugs. “Busy, I guess.”  

Busy.  

She wonders if he’s avoiding her. She wonders if he felt this thing between them and decided it wasn’t worth whatever it might cost. And maybe she should let it go. Maybe she should act normal, pretend she didn’t notice anything that night either. But she can’t. Because for the first time in years, she’s realising something:  

She doesn’t want to just be her brother’s kid sister to him. She doesn’t want to keep pretending like nothing is there. And maybe—just maybe—neither does he.  

The next time she sees him, it isn’t at her house.  

It’s at a coffee shop. A random coincidence, but the second her eyes land on him—sitting alone, staring at his phone with a look that definitely isn’t relaxed—she knows this isn’t over. Before she can talk herself out of it, she walks over. Arthur looks up, and for a second, something flashes across his face—relief, maybe. Or hesitation. She can’t tell.  

“Hey,” she says, sliding into the seat across from him.  

He exhales through his nose. “Hey.”  

And then silence.  

It stretches too long, but neither of them move to fill it. Because what do you say to someone when everything between you is changing, and neither of you know what to do about it? Finally, she leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Are you avoiding me?”  

Arthur looks down at his coffee, his jaw tightening. “No.”  

She lifts an eyebrow. “Liar.”  

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t deny it this time.  

She swallows, her voice quieter when she asks, “Why?”  

Arthur sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because.”  

“That’s not an answer.”  

He looks up at her then, his dark eyes serious in a way she’s never seen before. “Because I don’t know what to do with this,” he admits. “With… whatever’s going on.”  

Her heart stutters. “So you do feel it.”  

Arthur’s expression shifts—like he wasn’t expecting her to say that.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “I do.”  

And just like that, she knows—there’s no going back. Not to how things were. Not to before. Because whatever this is, neither of them can ignore it anymore. Arthur is still looking at her, like he’s waiting for her to tell him he’s wrong. That this is all in his head. That they can go back to normal. But she doesn’t want normal. Not anymore.  

She swallows hard. “What if we don’t have to do anything with it?”  

Arthur frowns. “What?”  

She takes a steady breath, forcing herself to say the words before she loses the nerve. “What if we just stop overthinking it? Stop avoiding it?”  

Arthur exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “You think it’s that easy?”  

“No,” she admits. “But pretending it’s not there isn’t working either.”  

His eyes darken, his fingers tightening around his coffee cup. “And what if this—what if we—mess everything up?”  

Her chest tightens, but she holds his gaze. “What if we don’t?”  

Arthur doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. And then, just as she thinks he’s going to pull away again, he does the opposite. He leans in. Not fast. Not reckless. Just certain.  She barely has time to process before his lips are on hers—soft, hesitant for only a second before he deepens the kiss.  

It’s everything and not enough all at once.  His fingers graze her jaw, tilting her face to his like he’s memorising the feel of her, like he’s wanted this just as much as she has. And she melts into it, because of course she does. Because this is Arthur—the boy who was always there, the boy she never thought would see her this way, and now that he does, she doesn’t ever want him to stop.

When they finally break apart, his forehead rests against hers, his breath uneven.  

“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice rough. “Definitely can’t pretend anymore.”  

She lets out a shaky laugh, heart still pounding. “Took you long enough.”  

Arthur chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”  

“And you’re slow.”  

He smiles, but then his expression softens, turning more serious. “What now?”  

She exhales, brushing her fingers over his. “Now… we figure it out.”  

Arthur studies her, something warm and sure settling in his eyes. Then he nods, lacing his fingers with hers.  

“Yeah,” he says. “We do.”  

And just like that, everything changes. But for the first time, neither of them are afraid of it.  

——————————————————————————————————

This is my first time writing a fic in AGES!

Let me know if you want a part two!!

[maddieclarkey2002]

Made this “edit” with the assistance of @themdera

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