Messages In a Bottle (Arthur Kirkland [England] X Reader)

Messages In a Bottle: Chapter 2

You managed to drag your blonde charge through numerous stores. Picking out a few outfits for him here and there. You had no idea how long he would be staying with you, or what your plans might be, so you were prepared. Right now, you were waiting in the lobby of a hair salon. You told the woman at the front desk to surprise you. Your green-eyed charge looked a little bewildered at this, but having no other choice, reluctantly agreed. 

"Miss?" the woman at the front desk returned with your bushy-eyebrowed companion. You glanced up and admired this new man. His dark blonde hair was cut short, but still relatively long and shaggy. It offset his thick, dark eyebrows and bright green eyes. The outfit he was now wearing- casual shoes, jeans, and a white dress shirt- made you look more closely at his figure. He was lithe and petite, but from what he said of the hard physical labor his captors made him preform, you had no doubt he was strong and fit.

"Thanks." you said graciously. You made out a check to the business and left with your associate. He stopped you a block away from the salon. "Alright, you've dragged me across half of London. Now it's my turn." His close proximity made you look more closely at his face. He really was handsome, and his prickly personality, if not annoying, was interesting and suited yours well. You blushed as he grabbed your hand and dragged you away. 

He paused in front of a guitar store, in the punk side of London. "Come on, let's go in. I think I like punk rock." You were getting used to this odd 'I think' and 'I'm pretty sure.' Besides, you did like punk rock, and you played guitar, quite well some might say. [Author: Haha! I made you play guitar and like punk rock because I do :3 So does Iggy, so it goes with this story anyway ^-^] 

Your consort tugged you into the store. Having a love for guitars, and music in general, this store was a punk rock heaven to you. You both strolled through the store, pausing to flip through guitar books and admire the multitude of guitars scattered around. 

In the back of the store, there are guitars that patrons can play and practice with. Your clever counterpart sees this. "I challenge you to a guitar duel!" he announces. "Fine," you say, "But I'll have you know I'm an awesome guitar player." You both picked up two cool looking electric guitars and strapped them on. Your comrade handed you a guitar pick. You declined, preferring your lucky guitar pick that went everywhere with you. The both of you shot guitar riffs and insults back and forth at each other until the owner of the store kindly kicked you out. 

Later, the both of you were sitting outside a cafe, drinking tea once again. "I didn't know I could play guitar that well. And I didn't know that you could too, or that you had such a colorful vocabulary [Name]." You sat back with a confident smirk on your lips. "You obviously haven't seen my music room back at my house Green-eyes." Your new found friend sighed disjointedly. "Can you not call me Green-eyes anymore?" he asked. "No." you responded curtly. "Besides, I don't know your name, so..." Your blonde friend sat back in his chair. "Fine. But can we stop by one more store before we head back to your house? It's down the street aways." 

Aways turned out to be two city blocks. But you were happy to go anyway. You weren't sure, but you thought you were beginning to like this grouchy fellow. You entered the dusty bookstore. It specialized in antique books, another thing you enjoyed, and seemed to have in common with your mysterious partner. [Author: Yeah, I like to read a lot too. Get used to these weird quirks :)  ] You knew this because you frequented this shop, and were friendly with the owner: a nice old man by the name of Clarence Vickers. "Hey Green-eyes, I know this shop. Why'd you take us here?" you asked. "I have the smallest inkling of a thought that I enjoyed reading books from here." he said absentmindedly, as he flipped through and aging book. "Well that's good, because I know the owner." You walked up to the front desk, no one was there but you knew Mr. Vickers never left his small shop. "Hey, Mr. Vickers!" You shouted, "It's [Name]!"

An old man with a gray beard popped out from the back room. "Miss [Last Name], it's been so long since I've seen you. How have you been?" He inquired politely. You laughed good naturedly, you quite enjoyed this forgetful old bookkeepers company. You even went as far as helping Mr. Vickers tidy up the store monthly. "I visited last week to pick up that copy of Treasure Island, remember?" Mr. Vickers face lit up with a smile. "Of course I remember dear, how could anyone forget you? Now, what is it you need?" he asked. "Oh no, I'm not here for anything today, my friend brought me here. I guess he's familiar with your shop too." Your companion wandered up to the front desk. "Why speak of the devil..." you muttered under your breath. Your dark browed friend shot you a mildly annoyed look. "How much for this book?" he inquired. He held up a slightly worn copy of The Canterbury Tales.Mr. Vickers looked a little surprised at who your friend was. "Why Mr. Kirkland, you already own a copy of that book. And what urgent business has brought you into my humble shop? You normally have books delivered to your home. May I ask where you have been as well? I haven't heard from you for ages." 

"Mr. Kirkland? Why does that sound familiar?" you thought out loud. You suddenly smacked your face with the palm of your hand. "Duh! You're Arthur Kirkland, son of a wealthy business man in the area. That's why you're vaguely familiar." Mr. Vickers stood there, looking very confused, as did Arthur. You filled in Mr. Vickers on Arthur's tale, and how you came to meet him. Then, you told Arthur all you knew about him and his family, which in all honesty, wasn't much. But thanks to Mr. Vickers, there was some more information. 

"Well, I have Mr. Kirkland's address here. I suggest you visit his home on the morrow, it might bring back some memories for him." Mr. Vickers said. He hurriedly scrawled Arthur's home address on a slip of paper. "I'm glad I could have helped in anyway." You nodded and left the store for the comfort of your own home with Arthur. 

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You both stayed at your house that night, because after you had looked up directions to Arthur's house, you found out it was an hour outside of London, in the countryside. You both got ready for bed, exhausted by the day's events. 

Later that night, you were already in bed, almost asleep. Arthur wandered into your bedroom. "Hey [Name]?" he said as he crouched by the edge of your bed. "What?" you answered sleepily, not too happy about being stirred from half-sleep. "Well I was thinking, when we go to my house tomorrow, what if I find something I don't like?" he said, sounding very much like a young child. You now sat up in bed. "Like what?" you asked tartly. "Well, what if I was a bad person. Or I did bad things." he said. You rolled your eyes at his silliness. "Arthur, losing your memories doesn't change who you are inside. You're a perfectly nice person. Despite being a grouchy, dry, annoying Englishman with a big mouth." You punctuated each word of your last sentence by poking him in the chest. "But, I like you anyway." Arthur's cheeks were dusted with a light blush, not that you could see because of the dark. "Wait, you like me?" he asked. "Yeah, of course I like you. You're a great friend." you responded. "Oh..." Arthur said a little disheartened. "Well thanks." He hugged you quickly and left your room to return to his bed on the couch. You both were blushing furiously, and neither one of you knew it. Of course liked Arthur as more than a friend, but no way in hell were you going to tell him that. Yet...the thought seemed so promising... 'Maybe,' you thought to yourself, 'Maybe when I know him better.' You drifted off to sleep with sweet thoughts in your head.