better man/worse than nicotine » arthur ketch

six: who's jealous now?

i know that i can be frustrating/promise you my touch will explain

The compound is...not what I was expecting.

First of all, it's bigger than I was imagining. I knew they had to be in a big space simply because of what all they're doing, but this isn't what I was expecting.

Ketch rolls the Bentley up to the gates, letting his window down to nod at the guard who then presses his hand on a screen. The gates move away, letting us through. Ketch rolls his window back up, trying not to smile as I look around with wide eyes.

He pulls around into what looks like a garage. The first thing I see is his motorcycle, and a grin splits across my lips at the sight.

Too caught up in the bike, I don't realize Ketch has slipped out of the car and is now standing in front of me, holding my door open for me.

He chuckles, following my eyes. "We can look at the motorbike later."

Right. I'm here for a tour. Of the compound.

I step out of the Bentley, feeling the dull ache settling back into my knee. I sigh, holding onto the side of the car, stretching my leg out. I can feel him looking at me, his eyes no doubt filled with a hint of worry.

After a few seconds, the pain falls away. It's still a good day. "Okay," I breathe, trying to smile. "I'm good. Where do we start?"

He nods, looking relieved as he shuts the passenger door behind me. "Well, this is the garage. It's never full, but it's here." He pauses to walk around to the trunk of the car, pulling out what looks like a duffle bag. When he sees me giving him a weird look, he clarifies and says he needs to drop it off at the Armory. "Let's go inside."

I smirk. "Let's," I repeat, trying my best to mimic his accent.

The glare I receive will go down in history books. It doesn't last long, though, because I try and fail to stifle my laughter, which ends with him shaking his head, flashing his small smile. He waves me along, walking us around to a section, a large and bold 'A4' on the side.

After walking down a hallway of sorts, we turn right, and that's when the tour officially begins.

"These are rooms. Most of them are occupied, but we keep a few spares," he gives me a knowing look that I return with a blank stare. He takes that as his cue to leave it alone and continue.

He shows me their kitchen, and a few scattered meeting rooms that are currently empty. We turn down another hallway – this place is a maze – and run into my first British Men of Letters outside of Ketch.

"Oh, Serena, you're headed past the Armory, if you wouldn't mind. Unpack and reshelf."

She takes the bag but lets out a heavy sigh. "I have three PhD's."

"Yes, and we're all very proud of you luv, now—"

He goes to continue the tour, but I cut him off – more pissed at him tossing love around like that or him trying to hand his stuff off like he's too good to deal with it, I don't know. "Serena, hi. Just," I shake my head, "give it to me. We're going by the Armory anyway." I hold out my hand expectantly, trying to calm the look of sheer frustration on my face. After a moment of hesitation, she hands the bag off to me.

When I take it, I roll my eyes – thank god my back is facing him. The bag barely weighs ten pounds. And he couldn't carry it to the Armory? Seriously?