"Arlo, I'm fine."

I repeated the words as he carried me to the living room couch. Arlo laid me on pillows and blankets, moving my legs to rest them on his.

"You should be resting, Mylo. I know you must be hurting and you're holding it in. That's why I'm staying with you."

I rolled my eyes and winced as I attempted to sit up. Arlo placed a firm hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down.

"No, no, no. Lay down. The doctor said you'll be sore for a few days," Arlo reminded.

I sat back against the pillows with a huff. I turned my head from him and I felt his long fingers weave through my curls and shake playfully. I glared at him through my lashes and he smiled devilishly.

"You're enjoying this too much," I accused.

Arlo tilted his head. "Isn't this what people do for the people they love? Look after them when they're down?"

I cast my eyes down at the comment. Yes, that's what they do. That's what I did for him. Whenever work wasn't going his way, I'd be there to care for his emotions. Before I knew what that work meant, what he needed me to do to resolve his anger.

I felt a thumb brush over my cheek and looked up at Arlo's face extremely close to mine. His blue eyes fluttered over my face as I felt the tears. His other inked hand cupped my cheek and wiped away the tears.

"I'm sorry," I apologized with a cracked voice.

Arlo just shook his head and pulled me into his chest, applying a reassuring kiss to the top of my head.

"Nothing to be sorry for."

He laid his cheek on my head and began to hum a familiar Irish tune.

~=~=+=~=~

The sunlight hit my eyes as they met the setting sun. I yawned and laid my head back down. After a few seconds, I realized how warm, firm, and oddly scented my "pillow" was. I gazed up the white fabric to see Arlo's peaceful expression. He looked so open when asleep. He had shed his long-sleeved shirt, what was visible was a giant canvas of vibrant and muted colors alike. It stretched from arm to arm, to his collar bones. It disappeared under his shirt but the overhead light shined through and even more color was painted on his torso.

A patch of pastel caught my eye as I focused on the design on his left arm. I glanced at his sleeping face before gently turning his arm over to see what was covered.

For You, I'll Dare

The familiar script spelled out such a simple sentence with such an ambiguous meaning. I stared at the slightly pink outlined ink, trying to see the message from his perspective. It was solidified next to a watercolor Northern Ireland flag, the colors bled like running paint down his elbow.

"I was going to show you yesterday."

I snapped my attention to Arlo's face as his eyes focused on his tattoo.

"I got it the day before, but other things needed more attention than this silly physical declaration," he explained.

Arlo made eye contact with me as he slowly smiled and brushed back my hair.

"For you, I'll dare to do anything, be anything, say anything, give anything."

I tore my eyes from his intense gaze. "Where did you read that?"

He sighed longingly. "My heart."

I rolled my eyes and detached myself from his lap. His hand quickly pulled me by my wrist back down on his body. Face to face, chest to chest. Arlo released my wrist and glided his hand down my arm, my chest, resting softly on my waist, being mindful of my hip. His curious blues searched deeply into my mismatch pair.

Arlo leaned up and rubbed his nose against mine. His lips were dangerously close to my upper lip.

"Stay," he whispered.

He proceeded to wrap his arms around my waist and rub my back in comforting strokes.

~=~=+=~=~

"No way!"

"Yes, way."

Quentin squealed at the details of my first day on medical leave.

"Girl, that tea is better than this," he sassed as he sipped his overly expensive tea.

I sighed and took a sip of my mug. We were sitting at a cafe 2 blocks from the apartment that Arlo was hesitant for me to go to. Quentin was all for it since he usually goes once a month for the hipster ass tea.

"He's full of it sometimes," I muttered over the rim.

Quentin clicked his tongue. "He got a tattoo to remind himself of you. If that doesn't spell love..."

"Then it spells crazy," I finished.

He rolled his eyes and adjusted in his chair. "Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome seems like the type to not play with the truth. You know those Irish mothers, they'd shame their boys for lying."

A flash of the picture of Mrs. Mulloy and Arlo came to mind. He probably does care for her word even if she's not there to say it anymore.

"I should fly to Ireland and get me a man," Quentin fussed.

"Be my guest, good luck," I said with a chuckle.

He smiled which turned sincere as he reached over to pat my hand. "You okay? I know last week was hard for you."

I fiddled with the string of my teabag and thought back to the day I arrived back in Boston. Tired, afraid, and searching for trust.

"I'm okay. Arlo keeps me busy and distracted, I guess he's good for something," I admitted.

"I bet he's good in bed," he mumbled and proceeded to sip violently loud.

I scoffed. "As if I'll ever find out!"

"If you don't find out, I'll gladly take one for the team."

"Go right ahead!"

"Take what for the team?"

Q and I both froze and whipped our heads towards the owner of the voice. Arlo had a relaxed but questioning expression as his eyes darted between us. With both hands tucked into a coat pocket, he leaned casually on one leg.

"What's the big sacrifice?" Arlo prodded again.

I sent a warning glare to Quentin as he happily leaned towards Arlo. He rolled his eyes and ignored me.

"Mylo doesn't think you'll be good in bed, thus I've offered my services to...test my theory," Quentin tattled with a purr to his voice.

Arlo immediately looked uncomfortable. He stood up as straight as a pole and shifted closer to me.

"Uh thank you for volunteering but, I rather wait for Mylo to cave," Arlo politely declined.

Quentin pouted. "Mylo, he's too loyal to your cute, bubble butt. You caught a good one."

Long fingers caressed my head. "I'd like to think so."

I peeked at Arlo to see a content smile on his lips, staring softly. He chuckled slightly before looking back at Quentin.

"You don't have to say it. Take him, he needs to go take it for the team," Quentin smirked mischievously.

Arlo huffed with an amused glint in his eyes. "I'll give you a gossip story to talk about."

Quentin fanned himself rapidly. "Oh, I do not worry about the story I'll get."

He met my eyes and shooed me into Arlo's care. After a quick hug, I followed Arlo to his car.

"Arlo, why did you-oof!"

The Irishman crushed me to his chest like he was trying to absorb me into him. Lips firmly pressed onto my temple as his breath tried to catch up. I awkwardly rubbed on his back where I could reach around the snakes keeping me confined. The petting of my curls began in soft brushes and then reassuring, gentle pats as he collected himself and blue eyes gazed at me again. They darted all over my face as if trying to find the answer to the hardest question in the world.

"You are one hell of a man to give a gang leader anxiety from being apart for 2 hours," Arlo whispered.

I ducked my head at the comment and he tilted my chin up so I held eye contact again. He growled with a huff and tagged my cheek with an aggressive kiss.

"God I want to kiss you," he muttered as he opened the passenger side door and waved for me to get in.

I scoffed at the puppy innocence in the gesture and slid into the seat. Arlo soundly shut the door behind him and jogged around to the driver's side. As the engine purred, I felt skin touch my hand and I look down to see Arlo's much larger hand engulf mine. A smug twitch of his lips was all there was on his face before it slipped back into his usual serious look.

"You're still not going to work," Arlo announced as he pulled into his building's garage.

I sighed heavily, taking the chance to roughly tug out of his hand's embrace. "Figured so."

He pouted at the absence of my hand and kept it busy by switching the car to park. He exited the car without another word and stomped to the elevator. Scoffing in disbelief, I followed suit and watched the ticked-off expression on his face as he avoided my eyes. I frowned and drew my eyes towards the numbers that flashed above the elevator doors. As soon as the doors opened, he rushed in and pressed the code into the keypad, relaxing into the back wall. I leaned into the wall adjacent to his left and kept my eyes facing the wall in front.

Movement from my right caught my eye as Arlo crossed the carriage and pushed the stop button on the panel. The elevator shuddered to a halt and the backlights lit, casting a shadow to the space.

"Arlo, what are you doing?" I questioned as the inked man with a fire in his eyes crept towards me, pushing me into a corner.

No answer came, only the sound of his hands hitting the walls either side of my head. They slid down to, surprisingly, gently hug my neck as his face neared close. My breath caught in my throat just as his lips were a millimeter away from mine. A weak sound filled the silence and, at the teasing chuckle of Arlo, I realized that it came from me. The semi-dark hid the blush that spread through my face.

Arlo pulled back a bit and the low lights just caught the stormy color of his usually cerulean blue eyes.

"Nice to see that your defensive shell crack a bit," his deeper than deep voice rang through my ears.

The tense feeling between us lifted at the comment. "Of course this is just a joke."

A flame lit up hotter in his eyes as they narrowed. The grip of his hands tightened slightly while his lips twitched with a playful smirk.

"Does this feel like a joke?"

At that, his lips crashed to mine. They molded to me with perfect pressure. It was both rough and affectionate. Gentle but every ounce of bad boy you'd expect. One arm snaked around my torso while the other kept my head firmly in place. I felt myself wanting to reciprocate and give in to his kiss, but I shook those thoughts immediately away.

Applying pressure to his chest, I pushed Arlo from my face as his eyes flutter open in confusion. I placed his arms to his side and shook my head. Reaching around him, I started the elevator again. Avoiding the eyes that stared down with sadness poking behind a wall that's crumbling.

I'm sorry, I cannot run again.

~=~=+=~=~

The days passed with tension. Arlo kept his distance emotionally but still hovered around to keep me protected. He changed my hours to the midday shift, the hours he has empty while he goes off in the evening to do his work. Now I watch the sunset as Arlo drives me to work. It's strange to see the sun in the sky as I am locked up behind the counter, the moon was my friend for so long.

Arlo was angrily having a conversation with his older brother as he lectured him about getting piss drunk and not doing his duties, making me feel awkward in the car ride to work.

He was always snapping at people lately, but I could see the restraint in his eyes when he directs it at me. "It's not your fault," they would whisper. "I understand."

But do you really, Arlo?

The luxury car parked in the measly lot of the convenience store and shut off. I quickly undid my seatbelt and climbed out of the car. Behind me, I could hear Arlo following closely. The door chimed as it opened, letting the cool air brush against my skin. After stamping in, I walked back into the main part of the store and found Arlo behind the counter, staring at a sheet of paper with my name scrawled in the corner.

"What is that?" I questioned as I neared him.

Being closer, I saw the heat in his eyes that only appeared when he was very angry.

He grabbed my wrist tight and tugged me to the exit. "Let's go, Mylo. I need to get you safe."

I slipped myself out of his grip and stared directly into his eyes. "What is it, Arlo?"

I eyed the paper in his hand and lunged for it. Just only ripping a small part, I flipped it up to read it.

I'm not done with you yet, Mylo. You're gonna wish you were dead.

The tightness in my throat returned as the familiar handwriting directed its message to me. Tears collected as the faint scent of whiskey surrounded me. The feeling of security vanished in that second when Arlo's hands gripped my shoulders and pushed me to the floor. And he said those words.

"Mylo, take cover!"

Then hellfire rained down on us.