Mia Falls
"Old Parker gave me three full days off after the crazy week I just had," Arthur Sterling said casually, leaning against the narrow kitchen counter.
He held a half-filled glass of milk, the cool liquid sloshing gently against the rim as he gestured toward the humming refrigerator. "I'm making breakfast right now want to join me?"
Although Arthur had easily guessed the exact moment he saw Mia Toretto at his door that this stunning mixed-race beauty must have stopped by the repair shop looking for him before driving all the way out here, he still explained his presence a bit more. He casually offered the invitation, his tone warm and entirely devoid of pressure.
Mia had actually already eaten a small bite before leaving her house, but as she opened her mouth, ready to politely decline, her traitorous mind suddenly flashed back. For some inexplicable reason, the vivid, mouth-watering memory of Arthur's two previous delicious dinners popped right into her head, overriding her logic.
The polite refusal completely stuck in her throat.
She shook her head instinctively, trying to clear the thought, then quickly caught herself. "I really just came by to thank you, Arthur," she said awkwardly, her amber eyes dropping to the floor for a second before meeting his gaze.
"The car runs perfectly fine now, and you even fixed all those other annoying little electrical problems I hadn't even mentioned."
Arthur waved his free hand dismissively with a bright, easy smile, the milk in his other hand sloshing along with the movement.
"It was nothing, really. Just part of the job," he assured her, his voice smooth. "Just give me a minute to throw this together!"
Not wanting to keep Mia waiting uncomfortably in the entryway, he didn't attempt to cook anything too complex or time-consuming.
Moving with the practiced, fluid efficiency of someone who intimately knew his way around a cutting board, Arthur quickly gathered his ingredients. Using perfectly seared chicken, seasoned ground beef, crisp white onions, fresh red tomatoes, shredded lettuce, a tangy dab of pickle mash, and some supermarket-ready flour tortillas he had warmed on the skillet, Arthur rapidly whipped up two massive, perfectly layered burritos.
To accompany the heavy meal, he poured two tall glasses of cold milk, lightly sweetening them with a touch of rich condensed milk and golden honey.
He set the steaming plates down on the small, rickety dining table, and the two of them sat across from each other, sharing a simple but incredibly appetizing morning breakfast.
"Arthur, your [Culinary Skill] is genuinely amazing," Mia mumbled after swallowing.
Mia had originally ended up sitting at the table only because she hadn't managed to refuse his warm invitation in time. She had honestly thought she wouldn't be able to eat another bite this morning.
But after taking that very first, hesitant bite, the perfectly balanced tangy-savory flavor of the meat, paired seamlessly with the creamy, slightly sweet milk, completely surprised her palate. Before she even realized what was happening, she practically polished off the entire massive burrito and drained the glass of sweet milk.
Arthur, clearly hearing the familiar, long-time-no-see mechanical notification of a big chunk of [Culinary Skill] experience points hitting his system, grinned just as brightly across the table.
"I've always cooked for myself. Growing up, I never really had the luxury of a lot of other expensive hobbies," Arthur explained, leaning back in his chair, fully stepping into the backstory he was weaving.
"So in my free time, I just naturally wanted to learn how to make something tasty to survive. If you like my cooking, seriously, drop by whenever you want."
He offered a genuine, open smile. "Tell me whatever you want to eat! Right now I really only know some local diner classics and simple, rustic Mexican fare."
"But I'm always happy to learn something new. I'd love to pick up more complex recipes."
After a quick, efficient wash-up at the kitchen sink to clear the plates, Arthur grabbed a towel, dried his hands, and looked directly at Mia.
He suddenly suggested, his eyes catching the bright California sunlight streaming through the window, "Actually, I was planning to hit the beach today."
"I was going to have a solo barbecue out on the sand." He paused, letting the idea hang in the air. "Mia, want to come along?"
Today he really did intend to drive out and fully enjoy the sprawling, golden coast. Though his underlying, strategic real goal was to find a secluded spot to swim a bit and relentlessly level up his [Swimming] skill.
Los Angeles is a massive, sprawling harbor city it was absolutely never short of beautiful shoreline or pristine, sandy beaches.
In his exhausting past life, he'd always been far too incredibly busy grinding away in a cubicle; this time around, in this high-octane cinematic universe, he fully meant to reclaim all the relaxing leisure that had been entirely crushed under the triple weight of his old mortgage, car payments, and the suffocating pressure of marriage.
Mia hesitated, visibly unsure whether to accept the sudden, tempting invitation.
She knew exactly what her older brother had been actively doing out on the asphalt all these years—Dominic Toretto had never truly, successfully hidden his dangerous underworld life from his highly observant little sister.
So while Dom hadn't ever stated it outright to her face, he always completely turned a blind eye whenever the violent, unstable Vince actively harassed or aggressively drove off any decent guys who tried to get close to Mia.
Dom secretly hoped Mia would eventually just settle down and end up with one of his trusted brothers or a loyal member of the crew, effectively making it much easier for him to keep her close and keep looking after her within the "family."
But that overbearing, suffocating heavy-handedness actively repelled her.
After she'd bravely sought Arthur out twice recently especially that one chaotic night, returning home very late, and even leaving her precious car parked at his place Dom had chewed her out harshly.
At that exact time, Dom was meticulously planning a highly dangerous new highway heist and was terrified Mia might accidentally leak critical details to an outsider, so he had strictly grounded her to the house for a full, agonizing fortnight.
Only yesterday had he finally relented and let her out of his sight.
She could pretty much perfectly read her overprotective brother's mind by now.
Mia herself didn't quite know exactly why she'd impulsively driven out to come see Arthur today.
She only deeply feared that, after this, her aggressive brother might start actively targeting the handsome young mechanic sitting right in front of her just like he let Vince do, who had merely been scolded lightly after violently bullying the quiet kid in the garage.
For a long, tense moment, she hesitated instead of answering.
Arthur couldn't magically read her mind, but when she didn't answer for a long time, he sighed, his tone sounding a little bit disappointed. "Mia, don't overthink it."
"If you're busy with family stuff, just forget it; we can always hang out another time."
Hearing that genuine, heavy disappointment in Arthur's smooth voice, Mia felt a sudden, terrifying flutter of panic ignite in her chest.
She looked at this ruggedly handsome boy, someone exactly about her own age who treated her entirely like an equal.
She suddenly felt that if she walked out that door right now, the comfortable, exciting distance between them might start to permanently widen, and she would be trapped back in her brother's cage forever.
She hurriedly replied, her words tumbling out, "No! I don't have any other plans."
"But," she added, biting her lower lip nervously, "I really do have to get home early tonight."
The slightly disappointed expression on Arthur's face instantly vanished, his smile brightening the whole room.
"No problem at all!"
After telling Mia to head down to the parking lot and start the Acura's engine, Arthur took the brief, unobserved chance alone in the apartment to physically pull out his heavy steel grill and large bags of charcoal.
He'd smartly bought them earlier while swimming at the beach a few days ago and had kept them safely tucked away in the invisible void of his dimensional private space.
Thanks directly to a rapid series of skill upgrades, Arthur's private space now measured a massive thirty-one cubic meters.
Normally, an invisible pocket of that staggering size could hold far, far more than just a loaded pistol and a vintage motorcycle.
At this current point in his life, every single valuable thing in Arthur's sparsely furnished home was actively stored in the absolute security of his private space.
He quickly carried the heavy grilling gear downstairs; since he had no functional car of his own and didn't want to prematurely reveal the supernatural secret of his private space to anyone, he casually stashed everything in the trunk of Mia's car. He then slipped into the passenger seat and had her drive them out to a beautiful, secluded stretch of beach less than twenty kilometers away.
That day, under the bright, perfect California sun, both Arthur and Mia had a truly wonderful time.
They swam in the cool Pacific water, played in the crashing surf, and laughed as they splashed each other like completely normal teenagers.
They even walked down the pier and rented a sleek, high-speed jet-ski near the beach, riding it over the crashing waves for two exhilarating hours, holding tightly onto each other as they jumped the wakes.
At noon, they set up the heavy grill and cooked fresh seafood right on the hot sand. Sitting close together on a colorful blanket, they gently rubbed cool, fragrant sunscreen on each other's bare backs and shoulders, the lingering physical contact sending a heavy, unspoken heat racing through their veins. They sunbathed for a long while, listening to the roaring ocean, before they swam again in the late afternoon and finished the perfect day with some quiet, casual fishing off the rocks.
They played and lost track of time until well after four o'clock, when the chilly, salty sea breeze finally started to pick up and bite at their wet skin.
Only then did they finally pack up their gear, rinse the sticky salt and clinging sand off their tired bodies at the public showers, and drive back toward Arthur's place as the sun began to dip low.