"Looking at you makes it harder...But I want you to move on, because I'm already gone."

~Already Gone, Sleeping at Last

The following morning, Arturia was up and about her house. She had taken note of the very foggy English hills but shrugged it off as she prepared for the day. She had a ten hour shift that day which was to start in an hour. She was already dressed, full and definitely prepared for work. Her hair easily pulled back in a pony tail and her lips pursed in their signature straight line.

She took a deep breath, knowing very well she had not slept well the previous evening; not with Lancelot's sudden appearance. She had had a lot of time to curl up on her bed and think her life over and over again.

She pulled the door open, hurrying over to her motorbike and not failing to notice the sweet smell of fresh rain and the very muddy floor.

She frowned at her—now dirty—black shoes and looked up, the fog making it very hard for her to see anything a few meters ahead, but definitely not thick enough to block the sound of an engine and car tires crunching gravel.

It was when the car was a few feet in front of her that she saw more than just the head lights, the person in the driver's seat slowly rolled the car to a halt, "Need a lift?" The smile of Diarmuid caused shivers to run down her spine.

Diarmuid had obviously rushed out of the house, his hair was damp and tossed—and yes, he did look very handsome in his uniform as well, "Pretty sure you want to preserve your work uniform."

Arturia thanked him as she entered the car, slamming the door shut after herself and gave him another thank you as he began to drive off.

"Sorry the ride was cut short; I didn't know it was going to rain." Diarmuid apologized, as the car rode through the heavy mist.

She shrugged, "It is not your fault."

The male gave a light nod, pulling up his right sleeve to scratch his arm, his hand still on the gear shift though, "Maybe we should check the weather next time."

Arturia caught unto two separate things; a mark on his right arm, as if he had hit himself or been hit. It was a light purple bruise, if one had not been keen to pay attention then one would have easily missed it. The second detail she caught about him was a much clearer one, "Next time?" She echoed.

Diarmuid let out a short chuckle, "Yeah, unless I got you scared of horses."

"No!" Arturia quickly replied, "No..." Her voice calmed, "I'm not scared of horses, never."

"Cool." He took his eyes off the road for a second to shoot her a smile.

Arturia looked about the standard car, taking in the black leather seats and the smell of fresh pine, "Why isn't Scáthach with you?"

"Oh, I take the car in the mornings, my brother takes her to school a little earlier and then she drives us home."

It wasn't long after they finished their conversation that he rolled up to the gas station.

"Thank you once again," She spoke as she prepared to exit the car and face the white blur ahead of her.

Diarmuid turned to her, "Have fun at work!" He waved and just as her foot took a step out of the car he extended a hand to hold her back, "Hey, um," he bit his lip as she turned to see him.

Arturia never really thought about these things, honestly. Her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, she interrupted herself—was strictly business and her eyes had never once landed on his lips the way they did on Diarmuid's. What the hell Arturia he has a girlfriend? "Yes?" She gulped, already feeling guilty because she had promised Grainne that nothing was happening between them. Well, to be fair, nothing is happening between us...Nothing yet.

He diverted his gaze from her, even if his hand remained gently on her wrist, "Grainne was a little upset with me yesterday because of the whole shirt ordeal, is it alright if you could give it back."

"A-Yes!" Arturia nodded, forcing her eyes to not stare at him, "I'll give it to you as soon as I get it all cleaned up."

"Thanks," He gave her a smile and she swore his eyes twinkled the way they did under the stars.

She waved at him as he had slipped his grip off of her and driven off, disappearing into the fog as if he had never once existed.

Arturia had needed to stop thinking about Diarmuid under the stars. Sure, he looked divine or heaven sent but she needed to stop with this nonsense, he had a girlfriend for goodness' sake!

"Who's the pretty boy?"

Arturia gasped, almost screaming. But with every passing millisecond, she understood it was Lancelot, "What are you doing here?" She did not even turn to look at him as she walked towards the gas station, "You nearly killed me."

"So, his name?" The boy was quick to follow after her.

Arturia took a deep breath, trying to prove she wasn't shocked to see him again, "I have to work now."

"I know." He said.

Arturia finally glanced at him, his grey eyes simply staring at her, "So you've been stalking me?" She asked, tilting her head and narrowing her green eyes.

"Well," he pursed his lips, "That's what best friends do. They stalk each other when one goes missing."

Arturia tuned back towards the store and entered, not paying anymore attention to Lancelot.

Lancelot had not given up though, and since the mornings were always agonizingly slow for the gas pump, Arturia had given into making conversation with her best friend from London, "How did you find me?"

"Not that hard," Lancelot shrugged, "I went through the history on my computer. If you really wanted to be left alone you would have searched from a library computer, not gone with your mother's maiden name and changed your password away from 'IhateGil77'."

Arturia rolled her eyes, "Well, you are a stalker."

The purple haired man smiled, as if it were something he was proud of, "I found you. Now, first things first; who's the pretty boy?"

Arturia sighed, "I thought you came to take me home, Lance."

Lancelot nodded, "Of course I did, but who's Mister Pretty Face?"

"His name is Diarmuid."

The male threw her a suggestive smirk, "And so soon after leaving Gil heart broken you find yourself a new man."

"I did not," Arturia huffed, "Diarmuid has a girlfriend."

"Good, because you have a boyfriend." Lancelot blinked, his previous lighter attitude turning bitter, "You know, you're reckless, stupid and out of your mind."

It was a very good thing that Jacques had left the store earlier that morning because the loud sound of a slap resonated in the store.

"You have no right to talk to me like that, Lancelot," she hissed.

Lancelot stood still, moving his jaw to let the pain fade away from his cheek, "Do you have any idea what your parents are going through? You mother is a mess, and your father; he is trying his best to keep Igraine in check and very much prepared to cancel his Prime Minister campaign to find you."

"No one told them to do that for me," she was blunt, very blunt.

Lancelot clenched his jaw, "You are actually out of your mind. Your family is in peril and Gilgamesh is quite literally heart broken. He, of all people, is looking for you. No matter how much you hate him, he likes you and if he's in love, I wouldn't be surprised. How many men will actually look for you after your father stops his election campaign and your mother has a mental breakdown?"

Arturia looked away, not facing her best friend, "You, you want me to feel guilty? I'm not going home, if that's what you want!"

"You're going to live here forever? Wake up, it's only a matter of time until your face makes it onto the news and lights this town on fire. You can't hide who you are forever, Arturia Pendragon. Your past will come back to haunt you and once everyone," he signalled his finger in a circular motion, "in this little town finds out who you really are; they will not think twice to stab you in the gut. That pretty boy, he will not even blink as he passes you by. You can't lie to everyone."

"I'm not looking for approval from anyone, especially you. I though you were supposed to support me because you know, you are my best friend after all."

"My friend, is the true Arturia Pendragon and not this Arturia Gorlois."

Something deep in Arturia's chest ached and she looked away, "So, you don't want to be my friend because I'm finally happy?"

When she looked back up at him, he could see the pain in her eyes as they were glossed over. The store was silent for a long while until she finally spoke, "I left them a letter, I told them I couldn't live that way. They don't need to be after me." She sounded solemn, sad even.

"Then call them." Lancelot tried his best to coax her, his voice nearly a lullaby.

"No. I left that life behind, I left everything back there—everything. And Gil," She hissed his name almost as if it were venom, "He was no right to be looking for me when he," her voice was loud and strong with anger, "allowed that filthy man to—" She stopped herself immediately, biting her tongue.

Lancelot furrowed his brows, "To what? Who did Gil allow to do what?" He took a step closer towards her and Arturia jumped back.

"Nothing." She was quick to answer, and harshly at that.

"What did Gil do?"

"Nothing." She wasn't budging, and Lancelot sighed in exasperation over her cold attitude.

"Is..." he pondered, "that why you left? Because of what Gil did? Did he hurt you?"

Arturia was looking down at the tile floor that had been muddied by their foot prints. It was afternoon now and she knew people would flood in for lunch hour, "No. He didn't, it wasn't him."

"Then who did? Someone must have."

"No one." Arturia replied, her eyes still trained ahead of her until the small bell of the store rang, snapping them out of their conversation.

Blue hair in all it's glory, the man stalked in, his curious gaze on the man before Arturia, "Is... he bothering you?" He asked.

Arturia shook her head, "No, this is Lancelot. He's a friend of mine from London."

"Oh," Cu assumed the tears in her eyes were not of anger or sadness, "Big reunion." He gave an understanding nod, "I get those sometimes."

After the Irishman had left, Arturia gave the key to her cabin to Lancelot and told him to wait there where they would talk a bit more and she had obviously gone back to work.

"Grainne," Jeanne had been quick to start a conversation once she had changed out of her school uniform and into her work clothes, "said she saw a handsome boy with violet hair get off at the stop around here, do you think he's also new to town?"

Arturia blinked, "What?"

"Well," the Frenchwoman crossed her arms over her chest and leaned on the counter as Arturia mopped the floor after rush hour, "do you think there's a new boy in town?"

"No. He's just here for a week or two."

Jeanne frowned, "How are you so sure?"

"Uhm," Arturia coughed, "not many people move to this town." She shrugged, no one needed to know that Lancelot knew her. No one other than Cu, who had already found out much too early.

Her friend gave a prompt shrug, leaning forward unto the counter a bit more, "I heard from Grainne that the Pendragon's lost their daughter, do you think that she was kidnapped?"