https://youtu.be/Q-OhRDV0ius

   "Can you relax, please? You are making me nervous." Grantaire tells me.

   "Well, I never meet anyone's parents--let alone play a fake girlfriend, so I think I have the damn right to be nervous." I retort as I watch the small town scenery fly by.

   "Do I even know your name?" Grantaire realizes randomly. I sigh in exasperation. He isn't listening to a word I am saying, is he? I message my temples to relieve some pressure that is building up.

   "My name is Arabella Seaton-Guerra, you can call me Belle." I answer him.

   "Belle?" Grantaire replies. He looks to be deep in thought when he smiles. "Belle. I like that," He continues on. "It suits you. A kind name for a kind woman." I have to turn my head out the window so he doesn't see the blush rising in my cheeks. I turn up the radio and the song "Summer of '69" is playing. In this lull of conversation, where the male company is focusing on the road, and is more sober than when I had saw him earlier, I begin to analyze him.

   His hair is still a mop of long-ish, messy, black hair with some curl to it. Although, he seems to pull it off and make seem.... endearing? Attractive? Quirky? I have no idea.

   His eyes, once a shocking violent emerald, now seem to have calmed into a cool, crystalline turquoise blue-ish green. You know how people say "eyes that look like the sea after a storm"? Well, his eyes are the sea before the storm. They are so much more unforgettable and that much more... impressive?

   His skin is a pale olive complexion. For some reason, it suits him more than anything. I guess you can say that he is handsome. I really have nothing to say about it, really. I stare ahead of me through the dash board when the car comes to a stop.

   The driveway is paved with cobblestone. Another car is parked in the driveway and I see two people walking out of the house with grand smiles on their faces. Grantaire parks the car and sighs. "I'm sorry that you have to do this." He murmurs.

   "It's okay, I never turn down a person in need." I tell him with a smile. I open my side's door and step out onto the cobblestone driveway. I take a deep breath to compose myself and plaster on a, thus far, fake smile.

   The dusk air is warm, but not sickly so. The slight breeze whistles through the air as if to ease any discomfort growing in my mind. The sky mirrors the colors of the last rays of a falling sun. Gold, baby pink, and lavender dance across the stratosphere preparing me for the meeting that will occur in T-minus five seconds.

   I wear a light grey and red flannel over my white shirt and black skinny jeans. My hair is in a loose side braid with black ribbons woven through to match my combat boots. Granted, it is not the most presentable outfit; however, this is short notice. I have nothing else!

   I only begin to feel out of sorts when I see Grantaire's parents. His dad wears a suit that I would only see if I were brought to court by someone. It is a warm chocolate brown two piece set with a matching tie and he wears a wite shirt underneath the jacket. His air isn't pompous or disgustingly self-absorbed like Kazato, which you have seen a hint of in the previous chapter. It is actually more of a fatherly air, to be honest. A welcoming air. One that has a calming effect that I could get used to.

   Despite this fact, My nerves still act up and I feel as if I am going to be sick. I wobble on my feet a bit and I feel hands arms steady me around my waist. I glance behind me for a second just to see Grantaire give me a fraction of that beautiful broken smile. I turn my head back to the parents to find the mother in a secretary's outfit adorned with a black blazer and pencil skirt. She is the one that means bussiness. Grantiare clears his throat and smiles. "Mother, Father, meet my girlfriend... Arabella Seaton-Guerra. Belle, meet my parents. Wolfgang and Elizabeth Matthias."