The Dramatic Spiel of Arthur and Chardonnay~ (7,143 views)

He still didn’t know why he couldn’t move from the door. She’d storm out of here the second he turned around and removed his hand from it, and that was it. Completely. She had no other business to come here and sure, maybe he’d see Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas come here for Jason’s sake, but Chardonnay would never come with them. Chardonnay would never text him again, she’d never kiss him, push him back towards his or her room... nothing. Nothing. That was fine. That was good. That was for the best. But then why did his hand grip tighter on the stupid fucking knob? Why? Why? He wrenched it free and was about to move away before Chardonnay started talking again.

He snorted when she said she never cared about him. He couldn’t help it. He knew she didn’t, so it was funny that she said it. It was funny that he, despite what he’d just said, cared about her enough to lose his shit over her after their fight. That he cared enough to wonder if that Andrew guy ever came back, that he cared she never texted him to let him know she’d gotten home safely. But then, she’d never given him any comfort at all. She’d let him fuck her, she’d let him touch her, but she wouldn’t ever extend that same sort of comfort that he’d given her. She would have kicked him out of her apartment if he had a nightmare or excused herself to leave if it was his place. He knew that if the situations were reversed in any of this scenarios, she would have bolted. He always knew that. So why the hell was he snorting now to hide the fact his lip was starting to tremble? He was so fucking stupid.

”You don’t have to tell me you don't care. I always knew.” He said, in a tone just as serious as hers. Though there was something in the next words she spoke to him that caught his attention. Arthur finally stared over at her. So she hadn’t been fucking some other guy? He didn’t know if he believed her, but he wanted to, she sounded so adamant. He blinked. That would mean the pregnancy scare was his, it had to have been his. But since when did she care what he thought about her, if he thought she was a whore or not? And, what did she say? She wouldn’t let any guy sleep with her? He stared at her for nearly a minute with an unreadable expression, looking into her eyes, seeing anger and something else he couldn’t quite place. But then he snorted and stepped away from the door. ”Ha. Since when have you cared about what I think of you? And since when was I better than just any guy, good enough to sleep with you? According to you, I’m nothing.”

He sat down on the chair behind the desk, not even expecting her to answer. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the door to slam shut as she left. He tried to ignore that saying that to her made his hands go clammy. If she hadn’t been sleeping with other guys, then... then did she actually... no, she didn’t care about just keeping it between them. She just hadn’t met anyone better. That was all.

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned back to his paperwork at the desk, already trying to tune Chardonnay out. Why hadn’t she left yet, he wondered, the door was right there! She didn’t even have to respond to him. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she just bolted right away, but instead she answered his questions. Of course she considered their fuckbuddy relationship going on this long a mistake. He definitely did, too. It was taking time away from him actually forming his own future. His own future family, his own career. He was wasting his time rolling in the sheets with Chardonnay and with her down putting his career, he knew she was taking a toll on him mentally. He noticed, now, every little mistake he made and every point he fluctuated on Jason with. Some of the points were simple, some of them were just a matter of style and personality, but now he thought some of them were character flaws in himself and for that he blamed Chardonnay. He knew he shouldn’t hold her to some superior standard – she was so hostile to her employees, whereas he wasn’t – but he had to admit. She knew what she was doing, even if he didn’t agree with her methods. And that scared him when she said he would fail.

”You’re damn right it was a mistake. And I don’t gossip about you to anyone. Why would I tell anyone you’re a whore? My sister is the only person I still talk to who cares about you, and I’m not about to explain this whole spiel between us to her.” He lifted a pen and signed his name on the bottom of a sheet of paper, and then flicked to the next one. He didn’t really know why he didn’t believe her when she said he was a nobody this time – it sounded like an excuse, and it completely contradicted her statement to him before. It wasn’t like he thought he was important to her, but whatever he was to her... she hadn’t shoved him away when he wanted sex. And apparently, that was some kind of special privilege when it came to Chardonnay. Whatever. He didn’t want to think about that too much, because that made him think about sleeping with her again. He tried to focus on his reading but she hadn’t left yet and was very distracting.

Her next question made him pause. Of course she’d reverse this onto him. He remembered the second time they’d slept together, after the first one, after he’d fucked up Lockwood’s project. She came fuming to his apartment, mad at him for messing up so badly, and he’d asked her that question. Why him? Why had she fucked him? And at the time her response was that she didn’t know. She didn’t know and then she reversed the question onto him. He didn’t know, either. He sputtered as a response and before he could embarrass himself, he’d kissed her and pulled her into his bed. He couldn’t do that here. He had no excuses, no ways to change the subject. So he slowly looked back up at her, gave her a once over, and then met her eyes. No use denying it. She already knew the answer – she had to know it after fucking around with him for three years.

”You might be a spoiled goddamn Princess, but you’re hot. That’s the reason.” He said, tone cold, as he glanced back at the door, as though waiting for her to leave. ”You don’t see the value of this place and I’m not going to force you to, so I'm done with this conversation. Feel free to leave whenever suits you best, by the way,” He gestured towards the door, praying that when she finally left Jasmin didn’t immediately barge in and play twenty questions about it.

After Chardonnay left, it was eerily quiet in the office. He watched her as she left, shaking his head. She didn’t actually care about anything he said. She just came here to spew off her mouth and piss him off. And it worked. Sort of. He was pissed. But it was more than that. He just felt so empty after she left. His eyes scanned the papers in front of him without really reading the words, so he had to go back and re-read sections at a time. Not too long after she’d left, maybe an hour or so later, Jasmin came in and asked what their relationship was. He answered that she was the girl at the meeting Jason had invited her to – the businessman’s daughter – and they had a conflict in school. Jasmin didn’t look like she bought it but Arthur wasn’t answering her following questions, so she let it go.

Or so he thought.

Arthur took the books Chardonnay had dropped off with him when he left. He debated giving the second one to Jason as well, to just keep, but when he tried to Jason insisted that he keep it or give it to his sister. Jason appreciated Arthur going out of his way to drop the book off. He was walking with a cane now. He said it was because of that bad hip, and that he was just not getting as much exercise as he wanted to be. He then asked about Chardonnay – how was she, her restaurant, her parents? Arthur responded that he hadn’t really talked that much to her, and that he hadn’t asked. He wondered how she thought about the theater and Arthur’s immediate response was to say that she’d been impressed. It was a lie, but it was a good one, because it made Jason’s face light up with pride when he said it.

Arthur had no plans that evening, so when he saw all Jason was planning to do with his dinner was microwave something, he offered to cook him something. Jason insisted that he try to do something from Chardonnay’s cookbook, and though Arthur was reluctant to, his boss said he refused to eat anything else. So he had to scavenge in the cabinets to see if he actually had enough stuff for anything in the book. He was flipping through the pages until he saw a beef stew recipe and froze. That was one of the ones that she’d let him try – and it had always been one of his favorite things to eat. So when she made it for him he’d eaten it eagerly. It had been way better than anything he’d ever made himself. There was something about the spices she’d used, or something, that made it taste better than the stuff Susan picked up at the store. He was embarrassed when she saw how eagerly he’d been eating the stew and tried to cover it up by saying he was just hungry, and though it was good, it wasn’t like he was desperate for it or anything. He was surprised she’d kept the recipe in her book.

He heard Jason suggest something behind him and then flicked the page. He didn’t care. It didn’t matter. He could make the damn stew again if he wanted to, for Susan and Adelaide, with this recipe. It wasn’t as though Chardonnay actually cared about his reaction. She just cared for the sake of her book, for the sake of making sales.

The end result of Jason’s dinner was something kind of like Chardonnay’s recipe for spaghetti. All Jason had lying around were noodles and Hamburg so Arthur tried to follow the recipe as best he could. They were missing a few spices, but overall it came out pretty good, and Jason had enough leftovers to last him two meals by the time Arthur had finished cleaning his kitchen and left. He intended to give Susan the second book but forgot about it – he took it into his house and put it on his kitchen table before he flopped down onto his couch and took a long nap.

The next few days at work went all right. Jasmin didn’t pressure him with any more questions and they got no complaints from when Chardonnay’s spoiled ass had come in swearing up a storm. The workload was getting harder and harder for Arthur to handle alone. He hadn’t realized just how stressful owning the whole business was, until he had to act as Jason’s stand-in. There were so many papers he had to read over, and sign, and so many phone calls he had to make and stand his ground in that he rarely had enough time to take a lunch break.

He was already aware that he was under scrutiny from some of the part-timers. As a manager Arthur always helped them out when he could. Though he was strict and had a no-phones policy, and always critiqued the cleaning, sometimes keeping kids overtime so that they could finish their jobs, he never made them do it alone. He always closed one of the stations on his own, taking some of the workload off of the part-timers shoulders. But as Jason’s stand-in he didn’t have time to go out onto the floor and help them clean. This quickly made opinions of him sour as Jasmin and Christian were the ones who went out to help. Arthur usually wound up staying in until well after they were closed. Jason was a slob, and all of the paperwork was there, but messy. When he wasn’t on the phone Arthur was reorganizing the office, completely revamping the filing cabinets and going over all of the information contained in each. He still maintained his strict attitude about closing, though, but since he wasn’t usually there to help out he was more than aware of the eye rolls and sass he got from the employees who didn’t want to be kept overtime. God, he hated being that kind of a boss. He didn’t like it when they disliked him and Jasmin did try to take some of the burden off of his shoulders. She worked harder at closing to get the kids out faster, and if they made a mistake and she’d already dismissed them, she fixed it herself. If he didn’t have her help, Arthur was sure he would have drowned in paperwork and hatred.

He heard one of the part-time girls talking to one of the employees – Erin’s cousin, Arthur noted – and she was the same girl who seemed like she recognized Chardonnay when she came in (though it wasn’t like Arthur knew that). They were gossiping, about the time she’d burst in, about him, and he hated it. Fucking Chardonnay. Now she’d gotten herself involved in his work?! He thought the rumors about them were over and done with. God. He couldn’t stand this. He couldn’t stand it at all.

At some point he gave Erin and her little sister a ride to the mall. The girl wanted to go out with her friends but was too young to drive, and Erin didn’t have a car, so Erin promised Arthur she’d buy him one of his favorite smoothies form the food court as collateral. They were sitting in the food court when she said, ”Is Chardonnay Nicholas your ex?”

He looked at her in complete horror as she explained that her cousin had told her all about that incident that had happened and she was just curious, because she googled the girl and it turned out she was kind of famous. Arthur didn’t really know how to respond so he just told her to leave him alone about it, and that it was none of her business, maybe a little too aggressively. The ride back to Erin’s house was painfully quiet except for the sounds of the loud kids in the backseat and Arthur was relieved when they were gone. Over text he apologized to Erin and said that they never actually dated, but that they used to hook up. But they didn’t anymore. And that right now, it was a sore subject, so he asked her to please not bring it up. She responded with a ‘k’ (ugh, the dreaded ‘k’ text) and Arthur rolled his eyes before he threw his phone onto the passenger seat and drove back to his apartment. He didn’t need to be bothered with this crap. They were over! So why the fuck was Chardonnay still causing problems in his life?! Erin didn’t text him back that night and he didn’t text her, either, too annoyed to care. The next few days at work were miserable. Erin’s cousin was shit-talking him and even Jasmin seemed to have her reservations lately. Arthur’s patience was thinner than usual and he often locked himself in Jason’s office instead of helping out the employees. He was exhausted.

His sister wasn’t having much luck on the dating front, either. Since Adelaide was older now and spent more time alternating between three places (Susan’s apartment, Arthur’s apartment, and Annabelle’s house) Susan had more time to herself. She had been going on dates recently, something Arthur was not happy about but had no real control over. She’d been seeing random guys for the past few weeks and none of them really lasted, they all got bored of her after the second date. But there was this one guy that she was really confident about, though, and she was planning to go out to dinner with him tonight. Adelaide was at Annabelle’s house again and Susan promised her brother that she’d text him for a ride home (something he made her do, always worried that the guy she swiped right for was some creep). Arthur didn’t have to go into work tomorrow unless Jason didn’t show – but his hip felt better, he said, so he should be fine. Arthur dropped his sister off on her date and then drove back to his apartment, waiting on her text to tell him to come pick her up.

But the text came way too soon – about twenty minutes into the date. All it said was ‘he never showed’. Arthur exhaled and got himself up, then went out to his car. It was kind of fitting that there were storm clouds brewing. He drove to the restaurant in Salem and walked inside, smiling at the waitress and telling her he was meeting someone. He walked in to see Susan alone at a booth, trying to hide her sniffles behind her hand. She’d dressed up for the date, too, clothed in a classy red dress with her hair curled. Arthur knew she was feeling self-conscious lately, about her age, and this was a huge blow to her self-esteem. He slipped into the booth across from her. She seemed surprised he sat down and grabbed her purse, but Arthur told her to put it down. He was treating her today. He was going to be her date today.

When he said that, Susan threw her head back in laughter.

”The waitress is going to think I’m a cradle robber!” She said, snorted actually. Arthur grabbed a menu and leaned back.

”Well, it’s better than her knowing you’re a gold digger,” he said. She kicked him in the shin, but was feeling much better. The waitress did raise an eyebrow at the duo when she came over, but Susan only seemed more amused by that than concerned. Her original date never showed, but she seemed to have forgotten all about him as she made fun of Arthur for getting pasta sauce all over his face.

By the time Arthur got her home that night he was feeling significantly better about his life. He got back to his apartment and yawned – he figured he’d tuck in early. The storm was getting worse, and he had no plans to go out. He hadn’t thought about Chardonnay at all that day. Work was just full of stress and then he spent the evening with his sister. There was no room for him to think about Chardonnay until he saw that cookbook sitting on his kitchen table. She looked so happy in the portrait, so beautiful, so... irritating. Arthur grabbed the book and slammed it on the table, cover-down, so he didn’t have to stare at her face. He grabbed his phone and flopped onto his bed, clothed in sweatpants and a tee shirt, and fell asleep.

He heard a vibration as he slowly stirred awake. What... the fuck was that? He slowly blinked his eyes and they adjusted to the darkness, showing him his phone was lighting up with a call. He glanced at the clock. It was 2:30 in the morning... who was that? Susan? Adelaide? He wondered if something was wrong. He reached over without checking the ID and the first words he grumbled were ”what is it”, the words blending into each other in his state of sleepiness. He was aware of the sound of the downpour against his window.

The voice that answered him, though, made him wake up. His heart skipped a beat, then started pounding faster in his chest. Arthur sat up on his bed, and pulled the phone away to look at the ID. He was right. Spoiled Princess was calling him. He blinked, furrowed his brow, and held the phone back to his ear. He was annoyed, sure, but he was also not sure if he was awake or dreaming right now. What was it she said? She needed his help?

”Why the fuck are you calling me? I’m not coming over to your place. We’re not hooking up anymore and have you looked outside your goddamn window? If you’re horny, get yourself off.” He spat. That was the only thing he could think she’d need his help for. That was the only thing she’d ever want him for. He couldn’t believe she called him. He was insulted, almost. He wanted to hang up the phone and slam it on the table. But for some reason his body didn’t let him. He stayed where he was and waited for her response, hating that he felt a twinge of... concern. She was too prideful to call him if it was serious, right? It had to be sex... it had to be. He listened to the background noise of the call and heard the rain, louder than he should have. Was she out on her terrace? Oh, God, was she about to jump off of it? He didn’t know why the hell that was the first thing that popped into his mind but it did. He sat up straighter and threw his legs over the side of the bed. No... no, she was just thinking he would actually come down and fuck her. It was a prank. She just wanted to get him out in the rain. She wasn’t going to jump off her terrace.

He rubbed his forehead.

Arthur continued to rub his forehead, waiting for Chardonnay to respond. She was oddly quiet, eerily quiet almost, as all he could hear from the other line were claps of thunder and the pounding of rain. He didn’t like the silence and almost spoke up, because he was going to ask her where she actually was. It didn’t sound like she was in her condo. But then she spoke up again and his heart stopped beating for a second when he heard her voice crack and she yelled at him – though with less force than she usually did – that she was out in the storm too far from the city to walk, too far away from anyone to walk in this. He was staring out his window by the time she hung up on him. He couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t ask her what street she was on, he couldn’t ask her for specifics. Fuck.

Why did he even care? She didn’t care. She wouldn’t do this for him. She definitely wouldn’t. If he ever called her in the middle of the night like this she would have laughed her ass off at him, found it hilarious that he thought he could depend on her. But then, stronger than those thoughts, came the mental image of her sitting alone in her car out in this storm. Alone, shaking, maybe even crying because she had no other friends to call. Her parents lived far away, she didn’t have any buddies or neighbors she got along with (except maybe Chad but he didn’t live anywhere near Salem anymore) and she’d called him. She’d called him.

She still knew his number. That was enough to get him up.

Fuck it. Fuck it, he knew he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t go and get her. What if that Andrew guy pulled up beside her on the road? What if he got her into his car and then drove her not to her condo, but to his house, and forced her to stay, and... he grit his teeth again, hating that he was remembering that stupid fuck from years ago that had cornered her. He checked his phone, sent her a text asking what street she was on, but he didn’t know if she even got it or was even looking at it because he didn’t get an answer. He then checked the weather app and paled.

There was a tornado warning out. Cars were advised to stay off of the roads unless absolutely necessary. The wind speeds were fast. The road between Salem and Chardonnay’s city was currently being hit the worst, and it would likely stay that way until at least 6 AM. The rain was slapping at his window so aggressively he thought that the glass would break. He got dressed in a red plaid shirt and a pair of jeans, and then threw on a hooded sweatshirt. He was about to head outside when he thought about her. Did she say she had a jacket? He didn’t know. He didn’t know, and he checked the temperature. It was cold for California. And of course she’d be drenched if she set even one foot outside. God damn it. He grabbed one of his baggy zip-up sweatshirts and shoved it into a plastic bag. He then stared at his umbrella, then opened his apartment door and almost got swept away. Nope. Fuck it. The umbrella would be more of a hassle than it was worth.

He turned around and locked his door, already soaked to the bone. His hair was a tousled mess as he tried to keep his hood up (and failed). He walked down the steps to his car, his Jeep, and unlocked the door. Already the seat was peppered with rain and by the time he shut the door and looked at himself, he was soaking wet. His hair was sticking to his forhead and his grey zip-up sweatshirt looked black.

He was really doing this, wasn’t he? Well. No reason to go back into his apartment. He looked at his phone again, the bright screen a sharp contrast to the darkness of the storm. His radio was mostly static – the only station that was coming in was constantly mentioning the tornado warning. It was very unnerving. He didn’t want to go. But, then, he thought about Chardonnay huddled in her stupid little car. Why the fuck had she been out so late? Driving to some other hookup? Who knew, but he couldn’t just leave her. He glanced at the chat log between the two of them and didn’t even see a ‘seen’ message by the message. Crap... she couldn’t even tell him where she was, could she?

He threw the bag with the dry sweatshirt into the backseat and put his car into reverse, backing out of his spot. He almost took a whole damn puddle with him. He knew he’d have to drive very slowly, and very carefully. A place that was twenty minutes away from her city... that had to be Brookside, right? That was a good 40 minutes away from here. Unless, of course, she meant the other direction. Shit, shit... he turned on the windshield wipers. He could still barely see two feet in front of him. Lightning flashed ahead of him and the wind was clawing at his windows. He had to drive slowly, and he hated that the only thing he was thinking about was if Chardonnay was still on the side of the road. He grabbed his phone off of the passenger seat and tried to call her, but it went straight to voicemail. He swore loudly and slammed his hand on the horn, honking it, but there was no one to hear him.

He hit the highway and it was worse, if that was even possible. He had to be careful not to hydroplane his car, which he almost did a few times, and it was especially difficult navigating a very curvaceous bridge that, under normal circumstances, he loved to drive on because the scenery was so nice. But now the water down below was pattering and going crazy with the wind and water pelting it. Lightning was still flashing in the sky and the downpour only seemed to get worse. His clothes were drying, sticking to his skin, wrinkling. Fuck. Why the hell was that spoiled princess out on the road this late?! Didn’t she realize how bad the warnings were?! The radio kept telling him to get off of the roads as soon as he could. It was making him anxious, but for some reason he couldn’t turn it off. He was worried a tornado would touch down and, he figured, if it did he’d hear about it before it swept him up and killed him. All because of Chardonnay. Goddamn spoiled princess, who didn’t even have her radio working, probably if her car was broken down... she better be in Brookside. If he had to drive all the way up north to Waterdale in this, feeling this anxious, he was going to kill her when he found her.

He finally reached Brookside and exhaled, keeping his eyes on the sides of the road for a breakdown. He was beginning to think he would have to go all the way up to Waterdale when he saw his headlights reflecting on a car that he hated was so familiar to him. He honked his horn three times but the sound was completely drowned out by the wind and rain. Damn it. Damn it! Did he have to get out of his car for this? Ugh. He grabbed his hood and yanked it up over his head, put the car in park, and got out. He left the keys in the ignition and the engine running as he ran over to the drivers’ side door of Chardonnay’s car and saw a hunched figure leaning against the wheel. The lightning flashed and he saw her tattoo on the back of her ear.

He pounded on her window, already soaked, the hood basically useless because the wind just knocked it off of him anyway. It had been an hour and 10 minutes since she’d called him, but she was still here, and he didn’t know how that made him feel. On the one hand, he was glad he didn’t do this for nothing. But on the other hand, she’d been out here all alone for an extra hour and ten minutes with no communication from anyone. He knew that was just how she functioned, always alone, but the more he thought about it, the more depressing he realized that was.

”Open the god damn door!” He yelled, and even his angry voice couldn’t be heard over the loud crack of thunder that echoed. God, he was so waterlogged he shouldn’t have grabbed the sweatshirt. He would have been less weighed down if he was just letting his shirt stick to him. He glared into the window, waiting for Chardonnay to turn around and get out of her car and into his. If she didn’t do it soon, god damn it, he was going to rip this stupid door open himself.

It took her a second, but she finally looked up at him. It was so dark inside of her car that he could only make out the familiar features of her face then. He couldn’t read the look in her eyes and her expression was tugged down into a frown. Of course she couldn’t even act happy to see him, could she? She probably was going to scream at him, tell him to get lost, to go away because she wasn’t going anywhere with him. If she did that he might be tempted to leave, though he knew that he really wouldn’t. He knew he’d really try to get her to come with him. Because he definitely couldn’t leave her here, even if she was pissed off at him. Even if she didn’t care about him. Even if he was nothing in her eyes. He met her frown with an enraged expression as he waited for her to listen to him.

But to his surprise she actually agreed and he helped her fight the wind and keep the door open before he slammed the door shut when she was done, and then he ran towards his brightly lit car. He expected Chardonnay would get into the passenger side herself, though the doors really didn’t want to open because of the storm. Arthur struggled for a few seconds, fighting the wind until he got the door open and hopped up inside the car, letting out a deep breath as he slammed his head against the back of his seat and unzipped the hoodie he’d been wearing. He tossed it behind him, where it flopped onto the floor of the backseat. His shirt was just as soaked as his sweatshirt was, proving how useless the thing was. It was like wearing a giant sponge. He waited for Chardonnay to get into the vehicle and despite the fact they should leave, that it was still down pouring and the wind was brushing against his Jeep, he didn’t switch gears yet. Instead he focused on Chardonnay, fury visible on his expression.

”What the fuck were you doing out in this! There’s a tornado warning. Not a watch. A warning! What the fuck were you thinking?! And how do you not notice your car breaking down! How?! And it’s 3:30 in the fucking morning! Why the fuck were you even on the road this late? Were you just ignoring the internet completely?! Because there’s no way you wouldn’t have seen the warnings!” Arthur snapped. Oh, he was pissed because she had called him to come down but he was more pissed off that she was out here in the first place. What the hell would she have done if he didn’t answer? What if the wind got powerful enough to send her car flying into a tree? ”I can answer all of those god damn questions, you’re so spoiled you think the entire weather is going to stop for you and let you do whatever the fuck you want! But you can’t! You could have died out here! Nature doesn’t give a fuck about you! What the hell would you have done if I never showed up?”

Jesus fucking Christ. He hated that he cared about that. He hated to think what would have happened if he showed up and her car was smashed into a tree from the wind, if by the time he showed up he’d been too late, and that she was dead. He hated that the mental image of that made his hands shake to the point that it was hard to clutch the steering wheel. He took a few breaths and tried to calm down. He had a feeling he couldn’t do that with Chardonnay in the seat beside him, though. She’d just scream at him and complain about his car. He loved his car – he never smoked in it, and always kept a little air freshener clipped to the passenger side visor. But she’d find something to complain about. He reached behind him and grabbed the dry hoodie he’d kept safe in a plastic bag from the back. He threw it over at Chardonnay. ”You have no right to bitch at me for anything right now. Use that to dry off or keep warm or whatever. I don’t care.”

He expected for her to scream back at him and tell him he was stupid for coming out to get her. She’d probably ask him questions of her own, ask him why the fuck he came out here, and if she asked that he honestly didn’t know what he would respond with. His gut answer was because he was a nice person, but that didn’t mean he had to go. He could have easily called the police, and told them that someone had broken down, and given them the location. A policeman could have come and picked Chardonnay up, taken her home, and he would be safe in his bed. The rain was pouring so loud in the silence that followed his rant, and he was glaring over at her, still. How was he going to answer that? He didn’t know. He didn’t know why he came here, he just... he wouldn’t know she was all right until he picked her up himself. But even that was a stupid answer, wasn’t it? Why did he care if she was safe? She didn’t care about him. She never had. He clutched the steering wheel. Fuck... fucking shit.

Her voice was a monotone when she did speak up, and he was caught off-guard by it. He hated that it made him concerned. Why the fuck should he care?! He didn’t! He was mad at her, mad at her for making him come out here in the storm. Why had she called him, not someone else? He wasn’t the only person she talked to anymore, was he? And they weren’t talking at all anymore. She wasn’t even looking at him. For some reason he was reminded of the time that he’d shown up to her place, expecting sex, but she was worried. Worried abut Andrew, about him getting into her condo. At that time he could ask her what was wrong.

He then thought about how he’d told her that they didn’t have to have sex, but when she sensed hesitation from him she got angry. Of course she’d get angry. She wouldn’t ever give him that same concern. He shook his head and put the car into drive.

”I’m sleeping on your couch. I’m not driving back to Salem in this.” He told her. He figured he had every right to invite himself over to her place. He knew he wasn’t welcome in her bed and frankly, if he had a choice, he wouldn’t stay at her condo. He wouldn’t ever set foot in it again. It reminded him too much about the times he’d go over and be greeted with a kiss, and be tugged back to her bedroom. It reminded him of how much he missed that, how much he missed her face when he pulled away from kisses and she didn’t know he could see her expression, or how she looked when he was pleasuring her. She looked so happy, calm, elated. Such a contrast to here, and now. He was smart to bring the sweatshirt not just for her, but for him, because he was conscious of how see-through her top was now and he didn’t want to be distracted. Her silence was such a contrast to how he’d seen her the last few times. Thinking of her foyer made him think of their fight there. He didn’t want to go back there again. He put his foot on the gas and started to drive slower than he normally would on this highway, leaving her car behind. She could call the tow truck in the morning. He didn’t care. The towing guy could give her a ride back to her car. Couldn’t he?

The radio’s warnings were melding with the static now, and Arthur frowned. This was such an awkward ride. He glanced back over at Chardonnay, hating that seeing her so tense and closed off worried him. He didn’t care. He didn’t care. He’d only driven down here because he’d care if she died. He wasn’t heartless. But she was alive and fine and he didn’t have to feel guilty about anything. She was the one who had said such shitty things to him, and he, still, showed up for her. He still was there for her when she needed him. Even after everything she said to him, why did he... he was still trying to figure it out.

”Why do you still have my number?” He asked, not entirely sure what the answer would be. But he was curious, and even though she was quiet and unresponsive, he just wanted to hear her talk. For once he wanted to hear her talk and she wasn’t saying anything. He kept his focus on the road, lightning flashed in the distance. She might just ignore him. She might not even respond, or she might get angry and say because she just forgot to delete it, then proceed to. And then the small sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, she actually cared about him in some way would be extinguished.

At least she wasn’t arguing with him on letting him stay in her condo for the night. He exhaled, glad of that, because if she tried to kick him out and made a scene he definitely wouldn’t be able to force himself to stay. How would it look to the people in the lobby, or the police, if she tried to get outside help? He’d immediately be accused of having illicit intentions, when all he actually wanted was a place to sleep for the night. He didn’t think that Chardonnay would do that to him. He liked to think that she had enough decency not to frame him for that but... he didn’t know. He didn’t understand her and he never had. The highway continued on for miles ahead of them and only five minutes had passed – likely they’d be on the road far longer than 20 minutes, because of this storm. And they were still in Brookside. Damn it. Arthur wished that he could avoid all of this water sloshing on the road, but he couldn’t. It was taking all of his concentration to not let his car swerve. Right now he was between the white dividers of the road, not caring because who the fuck else was out here? No one. And the closer to the sides of the road he got, the deeper the puddles were, so he was going to just keep driving right in the center. The voice on the radio told him that the warning was still in effect and reminded all cars, again, to be off of the road. Some good that did him now, twenty plus minutes away from Chardonnay’s city.

When she said she deleted his number he felt his chest tighten, and he couldn’t explain why. After he left... right after he left? That was when she did it? He remembered how he hadn’t deleted it, how he still looked at her name in his contacts list for weeks, but never got anything. He was so stupid. Wasn’t it the fact that she had known his number the reason he came down himself? Thinking maybe she actually cared... ha. She didn’t. She hadn’t even thanked him.

Still, why did she remember it? If she’d deleted it? His number wasn’t exactly easy to memorize. He glanced over at her for a second, then shook his head and turned away. Whatever. Maybe numbers came quick to her, like they did for him. And then of course it didn’t matter. She’d call someone else for help if she ever needed it. He snorted at her always horny comment.

”You can’t blame me for thinking that. That’s the only thing you ever needed me for. Good luck with finding someone else who’ll come pick your ass up in the middle of fucking tornado alley at 3 AM.” Arthur grumbled. Oh, he wanted to spit it out at her in irritation. But what came out was a muttered grumble, venomous, but half-hearted. She could easily find someone else who’d do that for her, right? She could get a boyfriend if she wanted to, a boyfriend she could trust and call this late. And then they could cuddle in her condo and drink hot chocolate and fall asleep together. ”Don’t call me again, though, I’m not... we’re not even talking anymore.”

He swore under his breath as a particularly bad puddle inconvenienced him. He took his foot off of the gas and maneuvered the wheel of the car so that he didn’t spin out, biting down on his lower lip as he finally regained control. He loved to drive, but sometimes, when he lost control even for a second, it scared him. Moments like that always reminded him how easy it was to crash a car, like his parents had. Ugh. It was too late for this. He glanced at the marker, wanting to get back to the city and far away from this storm so that he could close his eyes and get some sleep. He was thankful Chardonnay wasn’t screaming, at least.

He glared over at her at her comments. He didn’t care unless it had to do with her body? Yeah, that sounded about right. He only slept with her the first time because ever since that party his freshman year, that party where he’d made out with her and put his hands on her waist, along her back, and god knew where else, he’d felt a desire for her. Sure in the back of his mind he’d always known she was attractive, but that party was what really made him want to touch her himself, and kiss her himself. He kept a lid on those feelings after the party and after that stupid Family Formal event, and he hadn’t had to interact with her that much throughout his academic years. It wasn’t until senior year that they were put into the same class... until they were paired in the same project... until he was forced to be alone with her. When she kissed him that was the only reason he kissed her back, because he wanted to know what she felt like. It had nothing to do with her. She was spoiled, rotten, cruel, and a pain in the ass to deal with.

He didn’t admire anything about her. He didn’t admire the way she didn’t take anyone’s shit or the way that, despite his grievances for her trying to dictate the projects they worked on, she always knew what she wanted to do. Her unwavering confidence wasn’t what drew him to her. Her skills weren’t what drew him to her. He only felt concerned now because she was out of character, because she wasn’t cussing him out. He stared at the road ahead of him, wondering what his sister would say if she knew he went out in this storm. Likely she’d kill him, he knew how she felt about cars. Driving out in this dangerous weather, he was asking to die, and he had to ask himself again why he was here? He only cared about Chardonnay for sex. That was it. Then why had he risked his life to come out and get her? He certainly didn’t want any. Not right now, and not in the future. In fact, sex had been the last thing from his mind when he pulled up and saw her looking so alone in the drivers’ seat of her car. So why did hearing her accept that he didn’t want her to call him so easily make his chest hurt? He stayed quiet after that, trying to concentrate on the road. But all he could think about was that this was the end. He thought they were officially over before, but for some reason this... this stuck out as the real end. It made his throat clench up.

He thought it would take 40 minutes to get ho her condo, but it actually took him another hour. It was 4:30 in the morning, and the rain was not letting up. He was, at least, appreciative of the fact she let him use her parking spot inside of the garage. He supposed it was only for her own sake, so that she didn’t have to walk in the rain. He slipped out of the car and opened the backseat, cringing at the sweatshirt he’d worn down. It was still soaked. He wrung it out and then put it in his car, and locked it, and by the time he noticed Chardonnay was leaving without him, she was almost inside the building. He had to jog to keep up with her at first, but caught up after too long. When she opened the door she didn’t hold it for him and it smacked against him. If she’d been turning around she might have appreciated the sight. He grumbled something under his breath and couldn’t believe he was still here. He saw the night guard give them both curious looks. Chardonnay didn’t stop to say anything, but Arthur tried to give the guard a smile. He was given a once-over and the guard immediately tensed.

”I--I’m with her,” He sputtered, pointing after Chardonnay. The guard didn’t seem to recognize him from previous nights’ he’d spent here – the guy must be new, the old guard was actually pretty chill with him – and Arthur immediately felt out of place in his drenched plaid and jeans. He ran into the elevator and when Chardonnay didn’t scream and shove him out the guard must have lost interest. Arthur exhaled and looked over at Chardonnay, but she wasn’t looking at him. This was so awkward. So... weird.

He got off with her at her condo, and when she opened the door, he stepped in hesitantly. It didn’t look any different than he remembered. The last time he’d been at this door, she’d pulled him into a kiss and then dragged him into her room. But now, now that he’d actually helped her, she was so cold. She was so cold to him when she threw the blanket at him and he felt his throat starting to dry as that was all he was given. This was it? He wasn’t demanding, and normally, he would insist on sleeping on the floor if he was so wet, but it was more than just what he was getting. It was what it meant. It was what him going out of his way for her meant for her. Which was apparently nothing.

”Really? Is that all you’re going to say to me?” He asked. He wasn’t cooped up with her in a car anymore. He clenched the towel in his hand and bit his lip again, hating that he was feeling his eyes grow warm. Likely he’d wake up early... maybe he wouldn’t even sleep. He might just wait until the storm passed, or at least until the conditions were traversable, and then he’d leave. So this was it. So all she wanted to say to him was if it’s not up to your liking, then too bad. That was it. No thank you, no appreciation, not even a glance at him. She was done with him and probably regretted ever calling him. He took off his sopping shoes and left them in the foyer – still not that much of an asshole that he’d trudge water all over her place – but he still couldn’t look at her. He was cold now, and shivered, and wondered if the blanket on the couch was warm. ”No! Fuck that! After you woke me up at 2 in the fucking morning I threw on my clothes, went out in this goddamn weather for well over an hour, all to make sure you didn’t roll over in some ditch, and the only reaction I get from you is anger? Is – is this?! You didn’t even offer for me to come here. I invited myself! And you couldn’t even hold the door open?! You couldn’t even tell the guard not to give me the evil eye? After I went out of my way to make sure you didn’t die you just give me this shit?! This is the reason you don’t have any friends! You don’t care about anyone! You sure as fuck never gave a shit about me! Even when I cared enough about you to come here, even when we were fucking, all I ever was to you was a dick to sit on,” He didn’t know what he was saying, or why his voice almost cracked at the end of it. He didn’t know why he suddenly remembered the exact phrasing she’d used during one of their fights (he couldn’t even remember which one it was) but it already tumbled out of his mouth. He shook his head. ”Whatever. Fuck you. I’ll probably be gone before you wake up, anyway.”

And unlike in the car, she responded to him in anger. Anger that he felt was completely unjustified because he was the one who had been inconvenienced here. He was the one who had been hurt here. She didn’t care. She clearly never did and clearly never had. He was wasting his time even yelling at her – he wanted to just storm off and curl up on the couch, alone, and pretend to sleep until the weather cleared up. She was only going to belittle him more, call him stupid for getting angry and even caring. And it sounded like she was going to. She told him to shut up and he clenched his fists. As she yelled at him he didn’t look away from her face, from her eyes, as she accused him of only going at this for her body. He grit his teeth in irritation. She was such a hypocrite! Such a god damned hypocrite...

And then when she wiped her eyes he thought it had to be some trick, or some sign of exhaustion, because there was no way she was actually upset about this. She didn’t care about this, or him, she just admitted it when she said they were even, right? He blinked, hurt by her sarcasm, as she made fun of every instance where he’d been there for her. Or tried to be there for her. She might not have said it overtly but she was implying that every time, he was just acting, just acting so that he could get to her body again. What the hell. What the hell.

”I never used you! What the fuck! I don’t want anything in here! I never wanted anything in this stupid fucking condo except for you! And why the hell does that matter to you?! You never looked at me as anything other than a body to fuck, either! Don’t act like me saying that hurt you when you never cared about what I think!” He spat back. She brought that up a lot. He remembered saying it to her so coldly, and yeah, he’d thought it was true but it just sounded so horrible coming from his mouth that he hated remembering that he said it. But he thought Chardonnay would be happy hearing that, that was all she wanted. She didn’t want anyone to care, or anyone to love her. So why did he want to believe otherwise? Why did he feel so guilty about what he’d said, when she said so much worse to him. ”It can’t hurt much more than being told that you’re nothing, and that you’ll never amount to anything! You stopped saying that when we started fucking, and I thought I was done hearing it! But then you said it again, that I was never going to amount to anything, but you knew me! No one who’s ever said that to me before fucking knew me, so it didn't...” He paused because he felt his voice shaking and his oxygen running low. He could tell there was something off about her voice, too, there was a tremor in it he couldn’t place. Was she scared of him? Regretful that she’d let him stay the night? Probably. He’d storm out of here and sleep in his car if he really needed to. He was already starting to shake, but maybe right now he wanted her to feel bad. Maybe he wanted her to realize how much she’d hurt him when he was so sure he hadn’t hurt her.

”None of that was a goddamn act! You know why I got on your case when I found you?! Because I was fucking worried! Why the hell were you out so late? Why did you let yourself get in such a dangerous situation without a backup plan?! The entire ride down all I could think about was what the hell would happen if that fucker pulled up beside you instead of me, or if the wind grabbed your car and sent it flying into a tree, and you could have avoided the whole thing if you just stayed home! What if I pulled up and you were dead, huh?! Or kidnapped?! Maybe if you’d have at least thanked me I would have felt like I wasn’t worried over nothing! Like, maybe, for once you actually relied on me to help you instead of making me feel like an idiot for thinking you needed me!”

He was surprised that the texting, the texting that he insisted that she do every night after work, actually... had an effect on her. He thought that she was just doing that to make him shut up. He opened his mouth, and then closed it, because that had been the intention right? To make her feel safe? It actually meant something to her? He wanted to feel smug about it, or happy about it, but he couldn’t, not when his throat was tight and his eyes were warm.

When she grabbed her purse and flung money at him he felt angry, he felt pissed, he felt... hurt. He was hurt that she thought she could just buy him off, like so many other people could probably be bought off. he swatted the money away from himself and let it fall to the ground, where it crinkled on the damp floor.

”I don’t want your fucking money.” He said in a low voice. He saw she took a step back and didn’t move to approach her, though her eyes were shining, which was unusual. He looked away from her, unable to stomach the sight. He folded his arms across his chest, the towel close to his body. He wasn’t looking at her, just clutching the towel tightly. ”I never used you for anything. All I ever wanted was for you to trust me!”

He was still angry that she had thrown her money at him. What, did she think that he’d leave if she paid him off? The green bills were on the floor, scattered at his feet, and he had half a mind to rip them. But as much as he thought Chardonnay was spoiled, and frivolous, he couldn’t do that to her money. From the day he could walk he was taught the value of a dollar. A value that multiplied when his parents died, leaving his sister with no nest egg to support the two of them. Susan worked for every dime she had and he worked for every dime he had, too. And even though when he first met her he thought Chardonnay relied on her father for all of her money, now he knew that though she was rich, and she had way more than most people did, the money was earned. So he couldn’t stomp on the green bills like he wanted to, he couldn’t rip them up just to show Chardonnay how little her money meant to him. He was offended she’d think he’d even consider stealing from Chardonnay or taking something she’d worked for herself. How low of an opinion did she have of him... how fucking low did she think he’d stoop? He wasn’t a thief, he worked for everything he owned, and she had to know that by now, right?

But, then, she had a point. They really didn’t know each other. They didn’t know each other’s hobbies, their favorite novels or their favorite TV shows. They didn’t know what kind of music the other listened to, what kind of interests they had outside of their respective fields. But then there were the little things that they... or, well, at least that he had picked up about her. He knew how she liked her condo arranged. He knew the position she liked to sleep best in. He knew what she was like in the morning, how she got herself ready, and how happy she looked when she was cooking. He didn’t know her and she was right. But, then, he did know parts of her. And she had to know parts of him. That was why it hurt so much for her to call him nothing. It hurt because unfortunately he had given her more than just his virginity – a peak into sides of himself that no one else had. Not his sister, not his niece, no one. And he’d gotten way too comfortable with it. He almost winced at the realization.

”Do you really have to ask me why your business will keep things going with you at the helm?! Of course I know it’s not going to fail! I’ve worked with you on those stupid projects, I’ve seen your restaurant, you make so much money you’ve probably already paid off your loan! But I’m not the owner, I’m just, --,” No, he closed his mouth before he went into a long spiel about his anxieties. That Jason really needed to retire, but was forcing himself to keep in the business because he didn’t think Arthur was ready. Whether he didn’t think he was good enough, or could afford it, maybe he didn’t have faith in him. Maybe he didn’t deserve to buy the theater that Jason had worked so hard throughout his entire life for. Chardonnay’s words had resonated with all of that and he took a deep breath to try to stop himself from thinking about it. ”I – you – I – fucking hell.”

He didn’t have any room to tell her what hurt her and what didn’t hurt her, and though he knew that, he found himself freezing at the implication. Did that mean he had actually hurt her? That she had actually taken what he’d said... personally? But that was the same thing she said to him! It always sent a twinge of hurt down his body, but he was used to it by now. So why would she care if he said it? He looked at her face while she listened to him rant about the drive down and took a deep breath. She wasn’t screaming back at him, or answering his questions, but she was listening. She paled at something and he didn’t know why, he couldn’t ask, but he took one hesitant step closer to her as she spoke up again.

And she said she needed him. The sentence was so simple, filled with so little venom that he didn’t know how to respond. He felt like his heart had jumped into his throat. Now he felt bad about what he’d said when he picked up the phone. But, then, what should he have said? Should he have asked what was wrong instead of assuming? But she never needed him before, she never... she never admitted she even wanted him. But now she was and he didn’t know how to feel. She was right. He did have other people to rely on. His sister was his rock. He could trust Maxine. And though the relationship was different now, he knew he could always rely on Jason, even if the situations seemed to be reversed. But he always found himself here. He stared back at her face now, as she asked him why it mattered. Why it was important. He didn’t know why it was. He bit his lip, unsure, at her last statement.

”Well for some goddamn reason, I want you. Don’t ask me why. I just do.” He said, quietly, and then he looked away. She had never been there for him. The one time that, maybe, he thought he might need someone she hadn’t been there. It wasn’t like he’d offered, specifically. And she still might not be there for him and he didn’t expect her to be. But he wanted her. Not in the way he wanted comfort from his sister or to spend time with his niece. It wasn’t even about just wanting her body, either. He missed waking up to her face in the morning, and getting her text every night after her shifts. He missed the way it felt when she kissed him and the way her fingers felt as they trailed across his skin and up into his hair. He missed mumbling words against her lips, words that barely registered to either of them as they started to head to the bedroom. He just... wanted her. He didn’t need her. He could live without her. He knew his life would fall into some routine over the course of a year, and he’d move on from her completely.

But he didn’t want to.

He felt his body shaking as what he’d just said – it sounded so weird for him to have heard himself say it but now it was echoing in his head. She’d laugh and shove him to the couch again, and tell him he should be using past tense. He braced himself for her reaction. He didn’t know if it’d be worse if she shoved him aside or just... turned around and walked to her room again. He stared at the towel in his arms.

When she admitted that one of her employees had quit -- as he predicted they would eventually do – Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. So... someone actually quit? And of course the way she handled it was entirely wrong. She yelled at him, didn’t hear him out, and then took it out on the rest of her staff. He wanted to berate her, and part of his mind wanted to, but then... he didn’t at the same time. He knew Chardonnay was stubborn, and that she was the type who had to make mistakes herself before learning from them. He could tell her all she wanted that she needed to change her ways but she’d never listen until she saw that it actually would help. Hearing her admit that he was right startled him, though. And hearing her take back what she’d said to him about being a good-for-nothing, it made his chest feel tighter, like he forgot how to talk. He never, never thought she’d ever say something like that to him. Or if she did think anything like that, that she’d never say it to his face. He never thought she’d admit to him being anything other than nothing and he had to look away from her. He wanted to say something in response to her comment about the employees – she’d finally told him something, he wanted to acknowledge it – but he felt weird. His hands were clammy and he slowly tugged his arms holding the towels up, so that he could hide his chin in the material. His first instinct, for whatever reason, was to hide from Chardonnay’s eyes after hearing what she’d said. It made him happy but it also made him flustered and he didn’t know what to do except nuzzle his face in the towel and pretend he didn’t exist.

But he didn’t let that happen. He forced himself not to hide behind the towel, and instead looked back over at her.

”The Theater does mean a lot to me. Yeah. I would die for it. When we moved here, Jason was the first person besides my sister who actually gave a fuck. I applied for the job just thinking the free movies would be a perk. I always liked escaping to the movies as a kid. But then when he said he might sell the business, I decided to take it over. It gave me ambition.” He exhaled and decided to stop talking there. Now she knew something about him, something about the theater, but not too much. He didn’t want to bore her with the details. Even though she might respect him, she probably didn’t want him to ramble. And he didn’t want to divulge his entire life story to her right here and now anyway. Maybe he just felt so calm because it was early in the morning. The rain was still pounding outside, he could hear it. He glanced back over at Chardonnay. ”You can always change that. I mean, you can always apologize to them. Even call up your chef if you want. Giving them an apology would show you respect them enough to acknowledge you were wrong. It might not make things perfect, but...”

He swallowed a lump in his throat. Of course this was all elementary. He didn’t know if she was going to start yelling at him again... he hoped she didn’t. He braced himself for her to shove him out of the way and tell him to get out of her condo. That she didn’t want this anymore, and just because she was being nice to him right now, that didn’t mean anything. But instead, she didn’t get mad. She just stuttered and called him confusing. He looked over at her and blinked, but then she reminded him he’d said he was done. He remembered he had, and at the time, he was. But he hadn’t stopped thinking about her. When she said that things hadn’t been the same since they stopped he felt a light blush begin to creep up the back of his neck. Because that meant that he mattered, right? That meant that him being in her life... mattered.

”You’re just as confusing as me. I only said I was done because I... because that fight hurt me. I’m not dating anyone. I... haven’t wanted anyone else.” He admitted. He could tell her he’d tried, but it failed. He didn’t know how that’d go and he didn’t know if she wanted to know. But if she asked, he’d tell her. Because just like with Erin, no matter how much he tried to think of someone else she popped up into his mind. There was still so much he didn’t know about her, but there was still so much he knew about her, too. The little things, the ones that he never thought he’d care to notice. And she still wanted him. His heart skipped a beat when she said that. She still wanted him. He met her eyes and blinked, then took another hesitating step closer. He didn’t move to touch her, and now they were only a few feet apart. ”...things haven’t been the same for me either. I miss getting your texts. I miss, I mean, I... it’s...” He hadn’t meant to say the word miss, and his face heated up, but he couldn’t take it back now. So he tried again with another sentence, one that came out sounding more hopeful than he intended it to. ”Are... are we not done?”

Arthur shrugged in response to her comment. He didn’t know anything about her work life or employees. Why the guy quit, how exactly her employees took it... he wondered how that Heather was doing. He almost wanted to ask if she was still working there. He assumed she was, because this chef quitting would probably dim in comparison to her manager quitting. He wondered if she’d ever tell him how this situation with her employees worked out. Would she complain if it didn’t? Would she be in a good mood if it did? For some reason the prolonged distance between then just made him more curious about her life, about the things he didn’t know about her.

It was progress, though, because she hadn’t called him an idiot for his suggestion no matter how stupid it might have been. Hell, if Chardonnay started to apologize too often he’d be scared, too. But still... it was nice to see a side of her that wasn’t mean like he was used to her being so often. Of course she wouldn’t be like this forever... likely, he’d wake up the next morning and she’d be just as sour as she usually was. But he’d know they had this conversation. He’d know she didn’t actually think he was going to amount to nothing. No matter what petty jabs she might throw at him, and he at her, they’d always remember they had this night when they were actually real for a few hours. Which... reminded him of something.

Had she really been hurt by what he’d said when she came to his office? He remembered how often she brought it up when they were squabbling.

”You’ll probably go right back to normal five minutes afterwards. So I don’t think the fear will last very long.” He said. He couldn’t imagine Chardonnay moping about anything for a whole day. No, she’d get this off of her chest and then go back to leading her restaurant with an iron fist. That was how she worked. That was how she always worked. She couldn’t be kept down for very long. It was both admirable and scary, especially to her employees, likely. But, speaking of apologizing. ”I don’t just want you for your body. I don’t... I don’t exactly know why I want you over anyone else, but it’s not just that. I said that because I... was trying to be cold. I guess.”

He cleared his throat. Had they ever had a conversation like this before, where things went well, where they resolved their own shit? Sure, the predecessor was a fight and her car breaking down, but still. They were actually talking about what they wanted and making progress? They really had matured over the years, even if it didn’t show sometimes. And when it came to one another something in their relationship had definitely changed. It wasn’t hate anymore. It wasn’t love, but it wasn’t only lust, either. Arthur didn’t know how to describe it. When he saw that little quirk of Chardonnay’s lips, like she wanted to smile as she told him she didn’t want them to be over, his first desire was to kiss her. Not to have sex with her and lead her to the bedroom, or to get her to moan and cling to his back. He just missed the feeling of her lips on his. It had been months since he last kissed her, that morning they were rolling around before her father called to announce they were in California.

So instead of saying something in response to her right away, he leaned over and kissed her. And he remembered, again, how good it felt. He pulled away from her lips after a few seconds and his lips were pulled up into a small grin. But the he remembered the fights they’d had, what had come up... the thought of her with Chad. His grin soured slightly. He had to ask. ”I don’t want it to be over. I... but... if we’re going to do this, can we agree not to fool around with other people? Or at least tell each other? We never... made it anything like that before. So I just want to... know. What we are, and what our limits are.”

Arthur looked at Chardonnay’s face for her reaction to his apology. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds and just stared at him, and he wondered if she actually believed him. He wasn’t lying to her. He could only tell her the truth once, and let her do with it what she would, but he knew he wasn’t lying. He didn’t know what it was that drew him to her exactly and made her more attractive to him than anyone he’d met before, but whatever it was, it crept up on him fast. He thought she was attractive when they were in High School and that caved into desire when they were in college, but now somehow she just took his focus completely. And when they first started this whole thing maybe he was in it for her body. Or was it something different?

Eh. He didn’t have to think about that now. Chardonnay nodded and sighed in response to him and he exhaled, feeling relieved, because she didn’t look mad. For once, there was a prolonged period of peace between them, and it wasn’t a round of morning sex. He let the towel that he’d been holding fall to the ground as he put one of his hands on her waist, conscious then of how wet she was... how wet he was. They both came from the storm outside and had this entire fight while drenched. But even though he knew he should be cold from the rain the shivers he felt throughout his body weren’t because of the fact he was cold. He caught her small smile before their faces fell. He missed seeing her face light up like that. He missed it a lot, and it almost made him want to kiss her again.

He was glad she agreed not to hook up with anyone else, though then came that thought of the future. If one of them got into a relationship, or decided to fuck someone else, then they’d end this. Would they still be fooling around like this a year from now? Two years from now? Arthur knew not to expect a relationship from Chardonnay and he didn’t want one. Not now, not when they both had so much other crap to worry about in their lives. They could bask in this happy feeling they got when they were together, they could pleasure one another and maybe help each other, if they needed it, and they didn’t have to worry about anything long term right now.

”Right. Yeah. That sounds good, no hard feelings.” Arthur said. But he was already starting to half-listen. Right now he didn’t want to think about the future. He just wanted to think about right now. About how their fuckbuddy relationship was back on, and he didn’t have to worry about whether or not she was safe because they’d be texting. He wondered if she still wanted to text him when she got off of work every night. He wanted her to, but would that be weird to ask? But there was also something more serious that had caused this whole fight. He looked into her eyes and they were so close he could count the different colors in them. He felt guilty, as he brought up what might be a completely sore subject. But it needed to be mentioned. ”...and if something like that ever happens again... the scare... tell me. I won’t make you go through it alone again.”

He felt anxious when she tensed up for a minute, anxious that she was going to pull away from his hold and just leave the conversation there. Or that she’d tell him it would be none of his business if it happened and to leave her alone about it. And he really didn’t expect it would happen again. They were both careful, and never forgot to use a condom. If they didn’t have any condoms, they didn’t do penetrative sex. His face almost flushed when he thought about what they could do instead, because he definitely enjoyed that, almost as much as he enjoyed just having regular sex with her. Maybe even a little more sometimes, though he’d never admitted it. But regardless, the point of his thoughts was to say that they knew better than to just say fuck it and ever try sex without a condom. And she took birth control, didn’t she? And he knew Chardonnay wouldn’t ever let herself go through that again without having to tell her. But he just... he needed to know she’d tell him. He needed to know she’d trust him enough to tell him if she ever had a scare like that again. He hated the thought of her being alone and scared, all because he might have gotten her pregnant.

And when she did reassure him that she would tell him, even though he knew she could be lying, even though he knew she might actually never tell him and just stop talking to him again, he smiled. Because he wanted to believe her. And right now he felt like he could – he had no reason to doubt her. ”just in case,” He said, almost mumbled, before she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. The movements were slower than they were when they were trying to have sex with one another, sweeter, and he kissed her back. He pulled her body closer to his with his hand on her waist and could feel the fabric of her shirt wrinkling against his arm.

When she pulled away from him he did as well, and her words caused his lips to twitch up into a smirk. He hadn’t expected to sleep on her bed and he was perfectly fine with the couch (though he’d demanded a thank you of some kind earlier) but if he could use her bed instead... he’d take it. And though he missed her hands on his skin and the feeling that he got when they were rolling around together, he was somewhat relieved when she said she didn’t want sex. He just didn’t want any right now. He was too tired, and now that he and Chardonnay had made up all he wanted to do was sleep beside her, and get back on track with his life. They’d definitely sleep together again, probably that weekend if neither of them was busy.

”Okay, thanks.” He said, about to kiss her again just because he could until she mentioned showers. Right... yeah, he needed one. He didn’t exactly have any sweatpants, he realized, and looked off to the side. Her comments about shower sex only disappointed him for a second – he’d liked the experience and wished he could have it again, but it wasn’t his favorite position to be in with her – because he was thinking about his clothes. He supposed he could just sleep in his boxers tonight, and then... in the morning just wear the same stiff, wet jeans he’d worn up here and run down to his car to grab the sweatshirt he’d brought for Chardonnay. He could wear that, and it was baggy enough to cover his entire chest and his upper thighs, so maybe he wouldn’t look as stiff and wrinkled as he inevitably would be. Since they were sleeping together again, he figured he should start leaving some of his shit here to avoid situations like this. Or at least a pair of sweatpants for the night. ”...I don’t have any other clothes, though, so I guess I’ll be sleeping in my boxers.”

He shook his head when she asked about work. ”No. Jason wants to run the place tomorrow – assuming we don’t close because of the weather.” It wasn’t as though anyone would go to the movies if they were worried about a tornado and besides, they wouldn’t obligate their employees to come to the theater if it was dangerous. It was supposed to clear up by 6 AM, but with the way Arthur still heard the rain pounding... he didn’t know. ”I might get a call though so if you hear my phone vibrating can you wake me up?”

Oh, he didn’t want to think of the nightmare that would be... he’d have to go into work and run the theater running only on coffee. Which he’d done before, but it was painful, and even if he’d been in a good mood from today, if he got no sleep, he didn’t think it’d last.