Arranged British Love

We were sat on the huge bed, nestled among the many cushions and pillows that adorned the head of the bed. I was on one side, lying down staring up at the high, white ceiling while Ethan was sat cross-legged, studying my face and sometimes glancing around the room.

“This use to be a games room.” He spoke softly in his posh English accent, obviously wanting to start the conversation lightly. He then snorted lightly, “I kind of got angry when I found out that it would be converted into your room.”

I turned my head slightly, showing my attention while not taking my eyes off the patch of ceiling I was staring at so avidly. “You threw a strop.”

“Well, I...” He began before I cut him off.

“That wasn’t a question.” My voice was slightly cold, but I felt that the tear tracks on my cheeks were giving me an excuse to be less than sympathetic towards his juvenile hissy fits.

“So are you going to tell me what you’re crying about?” His voice was slightly stiffer, but he would get over it.

“I, er, was checking my emails and, er, there were some from my ex...” I trailed off, not wanting to say his name even though I was screaming it in my head.

“Some?”

“Five.” I held up my hand to emphasis the number while I saw Ethan nodding his head in the corner of my eye. I didn’t speak for a while, trying to figure out what I was going to say next without bursting into a new bout of tears. “Err, sorry if this takes a while, I’m kind of a very emotional person.” I laughed sadly, shaking my head at my pathetic-ness.

Ethan briefly touched my shoulder. “Its fine, I’ve got the time.”

So I told him. Everything came gushing out, the emails, the way he made me feel so low, and every single time that he had hit me. And Ethan sat there, anger evidently boiling in his eyes, listening quietly. “And in the last email,” I hiccupped, tears slowly falling, “He said that he would kill me if he ever saw me again.” I dissolved into tears, feeling absolutely pathetic for being so teary.

His hand slowly stroked my shoulder comfortingly, and he wriggled closer to me, making shushing noises. “It’s okay, Pheebs, he can’t hurt you now. You’re in a complete different country. You’ve got every single guard and policeman and woman in England, hell the whole of the United Kingdom, on your side! Well...they don’t actually know about you yet, but they will soon. And hey, you’ve got me.” He grinned widely; flashing his teeth in a way which undoubtedly made every girl in England go weak at the knees.

When his smile faded and he turned his head away, thinking that I had not noticed, his smile fell and I saw a hint of worry in his sapphire eyes. The same worry which I heard in his voice only an hour earlier, and I immediately began to think that he wasn’t as sure as he sounded.

We were both silent for a moment, before he spoke again. “I only came to knock on your door to tell you that dinner would be ready in about ten minutes. So five minutes ago.” He laughed. “But I can call down and ask for dinner to be brought up here. Cos I don’t think you’re in any state to have your first dinner with my family.”

I tore my gaze from the ceiling to look at him properly for the first time since he had stepped into my room. His blonde hair was messed up from where he had been lying on his bed and his dark blue eyes seemed to go on forever. I smiled genuinely for the first time in what seemed like forever.

“Thanks.”

“Hey, what’s a husband for?” He grinned back, his rosy lips pulling back to once again reveal his perfectly white, straight teeth.

“Fiancé.” I corrected smiling.

He nodded and reached over behind him to the wireless phone on the bed side table. He picked up the phone and dialled ‘one’, before putting it to his ear. “Hey, James, can you bring up dinner to my floor? Yeah, tell mum and dad...yeah...okay...she doesn’t feel up to a big dinner tonight.” He glanced at me quickly, grinning. “Okay...sauce with the...yep...” He rolled his eyes, making hurry up movements with his free hand. “Thank you!” He said finally, a little exasperated.

“Urgh, that guy can talk for England!” He groaned.

Yes, and you can whine for England!

“So...you’re different to how I imagined you would be.” I struggled to find something to say to break the awkward silence that had fell over us, finally settling for that monstrosity of rubbish ice-breakers.

“How do you mean?” He put the phone back on its base while talking.

“Well, you know, I’ve heard things about you...partying, you know...and I dunno, I guess I was just expecting you to be...different...to who you actually are.” I shrugged, feeling my face grow hot while trying to pick words he wouldn’t find offending.

“Yes well, I’ve done some things I’m not too proud of. Things I suppose you expected from me.” He looked down into his lap,

“Like what?”

Before he could answer, there was a knock at the door and I silently cursed the bad timing of the food courier; that could’ve been the answer to the question which had been in the back of my mind ever since I overheard him talking to his friends.

It was ten minutes later, after quietly eating the (Royal) lasagne with a drink of (Royal) orange juice, that one of us spoke. “So how’d feel? After nearly being hit by a car, y’know.” I asked.

Ethan shrugged, picking at his food. “I’m okay. No concussion.” He laughed.

“Yeah...sorry about that. You hit the ground hard didn’t you?”

“A little bit.” He paused. “Oh yeah, we’ve got that thing tomorrow haven’t we?”

“Thing?”

“You don’t know? Oh, well it’s a dinner party. To introduce you to some friends.”

Oh. That thing.

“You’re dad will be there.” He said.

Yeah, real consolation that is.

“Well, I’m done.” Ethan said, putting his plate back on the tray on which they had come in on. “I’ll leave you know, you must be really jet-lagged.”

Now he’d said it, I did feel incredibly tired, and I yawned widely. “Yeah, I am! Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” I stood up too, putting my plate with his on the tray.

“I’ll take the tray outside. Someone will come and pick it up. See you tomorrow.”

We were stood at my door and he opened it slowly. “So I’ll urr...” I started, before stopping in surprise.

Ethan leant down and placed a soft kiss on my right cheek. He stood up straight again and smiled. “Bye.”

I watched him walk down the corridor to his room, and then closed my door, leaning against it in shock. Wow. He likes me...I think. Well he likes me enough to kiss my cheek. I lifted my hand and felt the place which he had kissed, feeling it tingle slightly.

Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.