The Eyes at the Foot of the Bed (Sweet Devil!America x Reader)

Chapter 3: The Devil Wears Jeans

"Morning, love"

   You stopped your pretend-studying (your head, at your current state, was not capable of comprehending a single word, let alone an entire text.) and got up to greet Arthur in a tight embrace "Arthur! It's been so long since we last saw each other! How was England?"

   He chuckled and returned the hug, "Lovely, if not for my brothers being there"

   You laughed.

   He smiled, "And, not to sound rude, but I was surprised when you called me."

   You pulled back, rubbing your palms together, "Well, I heard you just got back a week ago and I meant to call you earlier but—" 

   He laughed. "It's all right, you don't need to explain or anything. I'm just glad I got to see you again"

   "Same here. Have a seat." You said.

   "I already got you your tea" You gestured towards the mint-green cup on the wooden table next to your already half-empty order of coffee.

   "Much appreciated." He laid his coat over the backrest, taking a seat in front of you.

   "Are you all right?" He was looking at your eyes and the heavy circles around them, "No offense, but you don't look too well"

   You laughed; only Arthur would use 'well' instead of 'good'.

   "Actually, I... that's the reason why I called you, well, one of them"

   "Do you remember that incident back then... when I turned nineteen?"

   He looked up at you from the edge of his cup and spoke, "Yes. What about it?"

   You just realized it now, but he looked a lot different from how he was back then. A month after your birthday, Arthur left to live with his brothers again in Europe. Before that departure, he had black-painted fingernails and an all-leather getup to match his love for all-things punk.

   Now he wore a light blue button-up shirt and tanned slacks, his nails were clean and he had loafers instead of boots. You weren't complaining, but hopefully his knowledge of the supernatural is still under those layers of Oxford scholar.

   Before you could say anything, he had your wrist in his grasp.

   "You're not wearing it." His eyes were hard and serious.

   You assumed he meant the bracelet "Um, no. It broke sometime after we moved in"

   "I need you to be honest with me, and I don't care how insane it sounds, did anything happen after the bracelet broke? Anything out of the ordinary?"

   You stared straight into his eyes, trying to see anything that could give you even the slightest hint of a prank or a joke.

   Nothing.

   "... Arthur—"Pardon me" A waitress places a slice of your favorite cake on your table.

   "Oh, I-I didn't order this" You squeaked, pulling away from Arthur.

   "The gentleman over there ordered it for you" The woman grinned, turning around to face the other side of the room where a table meant for two stood.

   It was empty, save for a cup of Americano and a few crumbs of apple pie on the wood.

   "Hm, that's weird..." The waitress mumbled before bowing slightly and leaving.

   You eyed the cake and bit your tongue.

   A "gentleman"? Who the Hell would've gotten you this cake? It couldn't have been someone you knew, because—"Aren't you diabetic?" Arthur poked the cake with a fork comically, like it was a corpse and he was trying to make sure it was dead.