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“Ouch!”
Arthur looked up from your foot, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. “I barely even touched it.”
“But it still hurts,” you huffed as you turned to the pair of shoes that lay on the ground, one of them with a very much unattached heel. “Damn those shoes! Who thought it’d be a good idea to walk in those!”
“Apparently, you did, love,” he chuckled. “You’re the one who decided to wear them.”
Pouting, you reached out a hand and pinched his nose, a sound you could only describe as a squawk escaping the author. “Don’t be cheeky with me, love.” You then heaved a sigh as you let go, your shoulders slumping at how your day had gone.
It had been raining the whole week, and with the sun finally out after a long while, you and Arthur had decided to spend the afternoon in town. You had been excited about it, and everything had been going swimmingly until a bit of bad luck struck. A group of children had rushed passed you while you and Arthur strolled through a park, and your shoe had caught on something when you tried to make way for them. You lost your balance, and he had managed to catch you before you could hit the ground, but your foot had twisted at an odd angle.
And now, your ankle was sporting a very healthy red color and was very much swollen.
“Well, you can’t walk like this,” Arthur hummed, resting a hand on one of your knees. “A shame, but we’ll have to go back to the mansion.” He then planted a light kiss on your other knee. It was quick and innocent. It was both proof that today had been more than he could have ever asked for, and a promise that there’d be more days like these, if not better, to come; and it was enough. Enough to make you smile. Enough to make your heart flutter. Enough to make you forget the pain.
That is, until you made the mistake of moving your foot, and you ended up yelping again.
“Yeah, let’s go home,” you agreed, reaching down to grab your shoes while Arthur righted himself and dusted off his clothes with a few pats. Then, to your surprise, he moved to slip an arm underneath your knees. Before he could though, you inched away from him across the bench.
“W-What’re you doing?” you stammered, your cheeks already growing warmer. You had a vague idea of what he was planning to do, and as sweet as it was, you didn’t think you could handle that.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You can’t walk, so I’ll have to carry you until we get to the main road.” He then flashed you a knowing smile. “Is there anything wrong with that?”
Of course there wasn’t, but- “Turn around. I’ll only agree if it’s piggyback.”
The man looked offended. “And miss seeing your cute, blushing face? I don’t think so.” It didn’t surprise you to hear him say something like that, and with all the time you’ve spent with him, you’ve come to know a sure fire way to get out of situations like these.
So, after a deep breath, you fixed him the best puppy dog face you could muster.
Arthur narrowed his eyes at you, but you could see red slowly staining his own face as his lips quivered to maintain the frown he was forcing. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”
“Please?”
You knew you won when he heaved a sigh of defeat, and soon enough, the two of you were on your way back to the main road, with you latched onto his back. You filled the walk back with idle chatter, mostly you pointing out various things that piqued your interest, and him still whining over why you wouldn’t let him carry you the way he wanted to.
“You know, maybe piggyback isn’t too bad either,” you heard him say after the two of you let a large flock of ducks pass by.
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“Well, it lets me have a better grip on things.” As he said that, you felt the hands supporting your legs give both your thighs a generous squeeze, and blood immediately rushed to your face.
“Arthur!”