Camcorder (Arrilana)
Arrietty should have known it was a mistake to get Lana a vintage camcorder for her birthday. Ever since she had opened it, every single thing Arri had done had been captured on film.
It would have been cute — if they weren’t in the middle of moving.
“Lana, can you put that down for 5 minutes and help me hang these photos?” Arrietty tried her best not to lose her balance as Gouda darted between her feet, seemingly uncaring of the precariously balanced box of photos Arrietty was holding.
“I’m trying to document every second of this,” Lana protested, giving Arrietty her award-winning pout.
She had to fight against her instincts, fight to keep from showing just how endeared she was. “We aren’t a family vlogging channel, and I’m not doing all of this myself. Put it down.”
Lana let out a disgruntled huff but set the camcorder down on a pile of boxes labeled "bedroom." Weaving through the stacks of items scattered haphazardly throughout the living room, she walked over to Arrietty, plucking the box out of her arms like it weighed nothing.
“How do your toothpick arms not snap?” Arrietty huffed, pulling the hammer from the hook in her cargo pants.
“I’m stronger than I look.” Lana punctuated her sentence with a smile that rivaled the sun's brightness.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re very strong.” She rolled her eyes. “Now line up the frame so I can nail it up.”
Lana rolled her eyes but put the box down, grabbing a small framed photo from their last trip to New York, carefully positioning it where Arri had drawn a crude penciled X. “When we have no photos and videos of the mundane moments, you’ll regret being mean to me.”
Arri barked out a laugh. “Mean? Bitch, where? I am a delight and an angel.”
“You’re a slave driver,” she announced, stepping back and swooping the camcorder back up from where she had set it aside, hitting a few buttons until the small blinking red light indicating it was recording started up again.
Arrietty rubbed her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Babe, did you seriously just try to start a fight and then shove a camera in my face?”
“Who said we’re fighting?” Lana chirped from behind the camera, winking and blowing her a kiss.
She wanted to be annoyed. They were way behind on unpacking, and Lana couldn’t have been less helpful if she tried.
It was damn hard, though. How was she meant to be upset when Lana’s eyes twinkled like Topaz, wide and happy and so full of warmth and love?
If there was one thing Arri had learned over the course of her relationship, it was that trying to stay upset at Lana was a futile mission.
“Are you planning to help me paint the living room, or were you just going to vlog the entire thing?”
“I don’t know. Can I even hold a paintbrush with my toothpick arms?” She shot back, sticking out her tongue.
Arrietty rolled her eyes, walking over and wrapping her arms around Lana’s waist. “Turn the camera so it’s on us,” she murmured, kissing Lana’s shoulder lightly.
Lana flipped the camcorder, grinning brightly and laying her head on top of Arri’s. “Hi, viewer, whoever you are–”
“Whoever you are? Who are you planning to show this to?” Arrietty interjected with a huff.
“Shh, I’m narrating this,” Lana flipped her hair over her shoulder before grinning at the camcorder. “Arri is decorating our bedroom while we wait for Kori and Lydia to get off work and come help us move the furniture.”
“And Lana is doing jack shit.”
“Language!”
“Bitch, what do you care?”
Lana turned to pout adorably at her. “What if our future kid sees this?”
Arrietty could feel the warmth flooding her cheeks, and she hated how easy it was to see her blushing against her skin. Ducking her head away, she buried her face in Lana’s neck. “Stop,” she whined, voice high.
Lana giggled, the vibrations reverberating through Arri’s frame. “Arri is feeling a bit camera shy, but I promise next video I’ll show you how good she looks painting the walls.”
“Stop filming me doing things!” Arri giggled out, swatting at the camera until Lana turned it off. As soon as the camcorder was safely out of Lana’s hands, Arrietty pounced, crashing their lips together. “Our future kid, huh?” she murmured into the kiss, cupping her cheeks.
Lana’s hands moved to hold onto her waist, squeezing tight as she kissed back. “Yep, and when that happens, I'm gonna film you building the crib too.”