A lonely young women's life changes the very
night of Murray Franklin's murder, on live television and it is a change that her heart will never forget. When she spots a man passed out and bloody, in an alley, that same night and even when she sees...
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Chapter 38: "Come Find Me" 🖤
Arthur was so tired and had been through so much, and so many changes these last few weeks and when she breathed those words into his ear he felt his life had meaning and she was the oxygen he needed. He adored the way she spoke like such an artist, without even trying. It was just inher, and he thought that was amazing.
He smiled with red lips, that made Iris' heart melt, and wrapped his arms around her firmly. He was so thrilled, and caught up in the moment that he lifted her up by her waist, but suddenly all the alcohol that he had consumed throughout the night seemed to slam into his motor stills like a freight train. He still held her, but staggered slightly backwards, hit the back wall, and slid down it in quite a comical manner. People saw and laughed, but most were too drunk to really care, and so was Arthur.
Arthur normally would have been humiliated, especially since he wanted to impress his woman, but felt there was no need to feel that way with her and that they could even laugh together. The alcohol made things easier as well, even though Arthur had done exactly what he promised himself he would not do, and got drunk, but it certainly made it easier for him to avoid traumatic thoughts and memories. Oddly enough, it also made him more vulnerable to emotional pain. These traumatic memories would never be gone, but for him, even if they were "forgotten" if only for this night, with the only love he may ever have, it did not matter.
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Iris has not thought much about the very high possibility of her tragically, beautiful eyes never getting to look upon his face again, but he has...Sometimes drinking made things that are unbearable, bearable, if only for a limited time. Reality seemed to always creep up and steal his tiny bits of joy like a dreadful thief, or a demon that thirsty for his bleeding heart 🫀
For most people, reality was just what it was, but for someone with such a fragility about them, as Arthur, it could be something that caused so much pain, that sometimes he could feel a black, demonic figure perched on his tired shoulders, whispering suicidalpoetry into his ears. That same demon seemed to become heavier over the years, but eventually he came to place where he befriended this demon and shook its deceitful hand, giving this demon everything.
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He felt rediculous, but Iris began to laugh as he slid down the wall, still holding her, which conveniently put her in the straddle position. Her laughing at him didn't bother him like it would anyone else and he was too drunk to even really notice. Iris had been drinking too, so she kissed the top of his head, stared him right in his glassy eyes and said, playfully, "Has Joker been drinking too much tonight?"
