The Dramatic Spiel of Arthur and Chardonnay~ (7,144 views)

Dinner – she mentioned dinner. That meant that her mother had found the condoms before he met her. Oh, God, how different would that conversation have gone if she found out the truth? Likely they would have gotten it out of Chardonnay by coaxing, and then she would have thought nothing was wrong and just gone to the dinner. But then when they showed up, they would have seen him – the completely unexpected guest on all accounts – and her reaction would have tipped Mrs. Nicholas off. Instead of casually averting questions about relationships and his business, her parents would have likely questioned what their relationship really was. And then, could he lie to their faces?

Maybe. He probably would be able to do it, and pretty convincingly as well. But Chardonnay loved her parents and didn’t seem like she’d be the type to lie, even if he helped her through it. He wasn’t kidding when he said she was a bad actress when it came to something real. So they would have had to come clean... and admit they were fuckbuddies. Well, he probably wouldn’t have said that to her parents. He probably would have said friends-with-benefits instead. And then no doubt they’d be asked why they weren’t in a relationship. Jason would have been so disappointed that he wasn’t serious about Chardonnay, and why he was just ‘stringing her along’ but that was the thing! He wasn’t doing that! Neither one of them had gone into this relationship expecting commitment. Sure, they didn’t fuck other people, but that was strictly for safety purposes and... well, in his case, self-esteem purposes. They cared about one another or... well, expressed concern, he wasn’t sure if he’d call it ‘caring’. Neither one of them wanted a relationship. They just satisfied one another, had fun rolling around in the sheets and squabbling, and gave one another a way to relieve stress. But her parents wouldn’t understand. No doubt they’d hate him after that or think less of him – Thomas would probably hate hearing that, would tell him that kissing on a video was one thing but having casual sex with his daughter was another – and it would have just been a catastrophe. Arthur exhaled.

The idea of Mrs. Nicholas finding the plaid in her condo was almost enough to make Arthur second guess his decision to leave it there – but, then, she wouldn’t find it. He knew she wouldn’t. No matter how nosy her mother was, it was hidden so well that even the extremely anal Chardonnay couldn’t find it.

”She only found the condoms because you kept them somewhere obvious. I hid the plaid – she won’t find it. Not even if she’s looking for it, apparently,” He said, glancing at the time on the clock outside of the supermarket in the same plaza as the theater. It had been over 10 minutes now – no doubt Jason and Jasmin were exchanging bets on who he was talking to. One of them would probably come out pretty soon and start asking questions. He had to smirk when she didn’t refute his points, though. If she was willing to stop screwing him she would have let him leave last night. The fact that she didn’t do that made him feel that much more confident, desirable, and even sexy. He could do this and she still wanted him. He knew there’d be limits, but this? This was harmless. And now, of course, she was complaining and he wanted to laugh at how whiny she sounded. ”You’re going to be distracted at work? Well, you’ll get to feel how I felt yesterday. Speaking of work, Princess, I'm about to hang up on you. And no, I won’t text you where the plaid is. You can just deal with it until you apologize to me.”

As he expected, Chardonnay responded with silence. Arthur waited for a rebuttal to come from her, his back pressed against the wall, as he glanced at the door of the theater. A familiar face popped out of it – Jasmin – and she rose her eyebrows over at Arthur. He pulled the phone away from his ear and told her he was almost done and that he’d be in shortly. It was... weird, to think that he was talking to Chardonnay while about to go into work. He never thought they’d talk on the phone – ever. Yet... here they were. Talking on the phone. Fuckbuddies.

Whatever. Nothing in his life, aside from working towards owning the theater, had gone according to plan. He wasn’t really complaining, though.

”It’s revenge, Princess. This is the only way I’ll be happy continuing this arrangement after what you did to my shirt,” He said. And that was true – if she did something to him, he always wanted to do the same or worse to her. In the bedroom, it was usually hickeys. If she left one on his skin the next time, almost inevitably, she had one the next time they screwed. He was kind of petty like that. He liked to get revenge and he definitely liked to one-up Chardonnay whenever he could. He was used to her cussing him out and calling him an asshole – so Arthur just rolled his eyes at that and held the phone farther away from his ear. And then she yelled at him and then hung up on him. He blinked, and stared at the chat log in his phone. Why hadn’t he hung up earlier? Probably because hearing her cussing him out like that over something she couldn’t control... was hilarious. He laughed to himself as he hid his face with his hand, mostly obscuring his mouth, as he closed his phone and slipped it into his back pocket. Her hatred of plaid was ridiculous! And that was the kind of shit she deserved after burning his personal property!

Arthur finally entered the theater fifteen minutes late. Fortunately, they weren’t busy. He slipped into the office and saw Jason clacking away at the computer. He looked tired, and hadn’t noticed him yet. Arthur sighed quietly to himself as he noticed Jason’s eyes furrowing behind his glasses. He’d recently grown to struggle to read the text on the computer screen... even though it was at 130 percent by default now. After a few seconds he clared his throat and the life came back in Jason’s eyes. He told Arthur to keep an eye on the phone – they were expecting a call – while he went and took Arthur’s place as a temporary manager out on the floor. Arthur agreed and sat down, taking his phone out of his back pocket. He had a few missed texts but nothing important from Chardonnay, and nothing worth reading. So he closed his phone and then turned to the computer screen to scrutinize whatever Jason had just been looking at.

Arthur rolled his eyes and swung his head against the back of the chair. It was a picture of a shirtless male model on an advertisement for the Bahamas. He was probably trying to convince Thomas to go take a trip with him after he told the business. Arthur started to snicker to himself as he closed the tab and started to do actual work.

The rest of Arthur’s day actually went pretty well. He was still satisfied, having won the argument with Chardonnay – in his mind he won, anyway – which left him with a sense of power and control he’d been lacking in his daily life. He wound up doing paperwork for most of the morning, nearly falling asleep while doing so, a dictionary hidden underneath the desk so that Jason wouldn’t see it if he walked in. it wasn’t as though Arthur was lying, but he just... wasn’t a writer. When it came to formatting and composing important emails he always needed to verify spelling and grammar, and even then Microsoft word liked to yell at him in the form of tiny little red squiggles that reminded him of the marks teachers left on his English projects back in High School. God, he hated Kasper, as both his sister’s boyfriend and as his English teacher. He almost failed that class just because Kasper expected him to be able to write analysis of some stupid English book by some author who was already dead. At least this jargon was useful – as much as he hated it, Arthur could actually see the importance of writing business papers to collaborators. He just... still sucked. And didn’t want Jason to know how badly he sucked.

He was in there for the first half of the shift, and was distracted by a ping from his phone. He glanced over at it, reading the person it was from. It was Chardonnay and so he grabbed his phone and unlocked it, seeing the message. The text from her made him smirk, and her last comment made him laugh to himself a little. He shifted through the emojis and found the confident little smirking one and sent that to her in response, though he didn’t expect any kind of rebuttal from her about it. She was probably pissed at him, he probably wouldn’t be getting sex that weekend, but that was fine.

He was actually surprised that he got a message that weekend, asking him if he was busy. Arthur almost said yes just because he was concerned that Chardonnay was going to torture him to find the location of the plaid, but then his desires won over his brain and he gave in, making the hour long commute up to her place. It was nerve-wracking to go – he didn’t know how she was going to react to him or how she was going to treat him. When he got to her door he wasn’t surprised by her aggressiveness, when she told him she didn’t care and that she wanted him and pretty much dragged him towards her bedroom. She wanted to take control and she seemed even rougher than him than she normally was in that situation, but if he was behind honest, he didn’t mind. It was hot when she yanked at his clothes and practically tore them off. When she shoved him onto the bed and climbed on top of him he didn’t object at all. He didn’t object until she decided she wanted to stop right there, when he was fully erect and panting and she still looked bothered, too, but there was a look in her eyes that told Arthur this was definitely her revenge for the plaid.

He had to beg her before she’d do anything, he had to beg for her not to give him blue balls and told her that she was obviously bothered, too. Nothing seemed to get any reaction from her until he moaned out her name and a please in desperation and then she took control again. He rarely said her actual name during sex, and he rarely ever begged for anything, but by that point he’d been desperate. Though he did manage to get off that night, he was embarrassed as hell about it the next morning and even right after. He couldn’t believe he’d begged and couldn’t even look at her the next morning.

But, that just made him get his own revenge – he took another picture of the plaid before he left, at a different angle. He told her it was still there. And then he left.

The next weekend he was still embarrassed and didn’t want to have sex with her again and risk her pulling another stunt like that. He was pretty sure she’d find it way easier than he would to just stop in the middle of foreplay and calm her body down, but he’d have a world of frustration trying to either will the thoughts away or losing himself in a cold shower. So he was actually thankful that his sister had told him she wanted him to help her out that weekend. Susan had wanted to buy a house to give herself and Adelaide some more structure and privacy for a long time, but she was really bad at house shopping. Arthur texted Chardonnay that he was going to be busy that weekend and then didn’t give her a response. Let her think he was still bitter about the taunting – he didn’t care. That weekend he went to Susan’s apartment to sleep on the couch and she, Adelaide, and Arthur took trips to the open houses around town. Susan paid particular attention to how Adelaide reacted to each house.

She was sure to keep everything in Salem, not wanting to move far away from the Halls or her job. Arthur drove them to the houses and wound up looking around the locations himself, but nothing really stuck out to him. Nothing would ever be the home here in California that his sister’s apartment would be to him. It was weird to think she was moving but she wasn’t going far. Still, it wouldn’t be the apartment complex he was used to going to. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Adelaide was about 12 now, and was already tall for her age, taking after her father more-so than her mother. She had long, brown hair that fell in waves to her waist, and liked to wear shorts and tee shirts. She was wild and carefree, loud and silly, and really did take after her mother to an almost uncanny amount. It was so weird to think that her 12th birthday was only a few months away. Arthur could still remember when she was a baby, when he was first told she would exist. Now he was older, and he felt it. He felt old, he felt like he was such a different person than he used to be. He had a completely different life than he had, and Adelaide’s uncle was a completely different person than he was when she was first born. He watched as Susan talked to the real estate agent and Adelaide ran around the rooms, talking about which bedroom would be hers if they moved here. But, still, Susan wasn’t satisfied. That weekend didn’t produce any results and Susan continued to look at house listings while Arthur went back to his apartment and back to work.

That next weekend he invited Chardonnay to his apartment, his neighbor was still nonexistent. Apparently, they’d found a problem in the room, a minor one that didn’t affect him, but one that would make the place inhabitable for a while. Secretly that made Arthur glad – because when Chardonnay showed up at his doorstep he didn’t have to hold back with her. And he didn’t have to commute. That was another morning where he woke up first and let her let herself up when he went to work – though he went in much later than he used to.

Three months passed by and pretty soon, it was already July. Arthur spent the holiday with his sister and niece as he always did, and by then Susan had decided on a cute little ranch style house not too far from the Halls. It had two bedrooms, wide space, and a cozy feel to it. Arthur still didn’t think that it was going to be the same, but he lived on his own now. He didn’t have any room to talk. That next weekend he told Chardonnay he was busy again, and he held Susan and Adelaide moved from their small apartment to the larger house. Adelaide seemed to love it – she loved her bedroom, the living room, and the wide backyard they had outside. For most of the day Adelaide stayed out there while Arthur helped Susan decorate and move things inside. The entire time it felt weird to him, though. He was almost thirty, and he wasn’t considering a house. He always thought by this point in his life, he’d want a house. But, then, he realized, Susan was much older than 30 and just buying a house now. He was working on buying the business – something that was actually in the motions of passing as he thought this – and he didn’t have a girlfriend or children. He tried not to think about when he might have any of those things, shook the thoughts off, as he took the photographs and books into Susan’s bedroom.

He took the largest picture – a very nice photograph of their parents – and hung it up over the top of the bed. He didn’t get why Susan liked having pictures of people in her room... but he never asked about it. Instead he just focused on getting the portrait up, blinking at his father and mother who he had no memories of. The older he got the more he looked like his father, but his skin tone and thick eyebrows had both been gifts from his mother. He exhaled and put the picture up, making sure it was even, before he put the albums onto Susan’s shelf. Photo albums from her childhood, their parents’ wedding album, Adelaide’s baby book... Arthur flicked through that one for a few minutes, looking at the tiny little baby in his 16-year-old arms. Jesus Christ, he and Adelaide both looked so young, so weirdly young, that he put the book back and tried not to have a midlife crisis.

Aside from spending time with his sister and niece, over the course of three months, Arthur grew closer and closer to buying the business from Jason. Jason was getting better, but he still wanted to retire soon, and now they were going over the budget and the amount of money Arthur still had to gather to make the purchase. It wasn’t much, Arthur was on track, and only needed a bit more money, and as the point of buying the business officially came close and closer to him, it made Arthur excited... but it also terrifying him. It terrified him because he knew he would do something wrong. He didn’t want to keep everything the same but he also didn’t want to make so many changes that the theater wasn’t the same anymore. He was paranoid he wouldn’t be able to run the business well and even though he knew the thought was irrational, even though he knew the thought was ridiculous, he couldn’t help but feel like he would just mess something up. It was expected that at the end of August was when he’d be taking over for Jason. The end of next August. It was far away, but also so close he could almost taste it.

That week he had nightmares more frequently, the nightmares about the shooting when he was a freshmen melding into the business. He had nightmares that he wouldn’t do well, that he did so badly that the men came back and stuck up his theater and then shot him and he usually woke up then, clutching his head, trying to take deep breaths and tell himself it was just the memory of the incident freshman year coming back to haunt him. It was nearly august, and when he was feeling particularly stressed, his anxieties had a way of getting his nightmares to start paying him visits again too.

The next time he texted Chardonnay and was met with an affirmative response it was a huge relief. Having sex with her gave him a relief that didn’t compare to cigarettes, especially when she let him take control and top, when he felt her nails clawing against his back and heard her tell him what she wanted. Waking up to her the next morning, he felt better. He didn’t have nightmares when he had sex prior, and looking at her face reminded him of the conversation they’d had when they started back up after their long period of absence. She’d said he wouldn’t be a bad business owner, than she believed he could take over the business well and when he remembered what she’d said he felt better. She probably would never – could never – know what hearing that meant to him and he certainly didn’t want her to. It would imply something that wasn’t there. It would imply that he wanted her for comfort and security, when all he really wanted from her was sex. That was all they were to one another – fuckbuddies. He just... he only felt that way about what she’d said because he was so insecure, and she was so confident. That was all.

That morning, he woke up with a hickey on his neck. He told Chardonnay what she’d done, irritated, and had her cover up the spot on his neck with makeup. It was still a weird feeling to have makeup on him like that. By now this was a – not regular, but not uncommon – occurrence and Arthur had memorized the exact way Chardonnay darkened her concealer to match his skin tone. He had to go into work praying that no one noticed it, and he avoided Maxine for the whole day. She could sniff out a hickey in two seconds, if not one.

The next week Arthur got his revenge – he left two hickeys on her skin. That morning, a week later, he was woken up by her getting angry at him. That led to an argument about not only the hickeys but the way she’d woken him up. But the argument was made tenser by the fact that the both of them were barely wearing anything and then the tension snapped and she pulled him into a kiss, one that he reciprocated and one that quickly evolved into morning sex. When they finished Arthur felt significantly better than he did before. Not even Chardonnay slapping him in the face with a pillow and calling him a jackass could get his mood to dampen. He just grinned at her and then went to clean up.

She left shortly after that. It was a Monday morning and he didn’t have to go in today, because Jason needed to do something that didn’t involve him. Arthur was confused but, then, he was always confused by Jason. Arthur took a shower to wash the scent of sweat and sex off of his body before he curled up in a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, watching some shows on his laptop with his phone on his table.

A few hours into his movie time, Arthur got a phone call. He reached over and lifted it, looking at the collar ID. He furrowed his brow. Chardonnay? Had she forgotten something?

He slid the phone onto answer and held it to his ear.

”What do you want, Princess?” He asked. He wondered if, perhaps, her car head broken down on the highway and she needed him to come get her. He hoped that wasn’t the case... he was comfortable right here. She probably just forgot something. He tucked one lug up underneath the other and leaned back against the couch, waiting for her to explain why she was calling him in the middle of the day. They hadn’t talked on the phone since the plaid incident. It was still very weird to be on the phone with her and not be mad at her.

Arthur was caught off-guard with her first statement. Why would she need a place to stay now, when it was the middle of the afternoon? He didn’t understand until she started talking about the two men who lived upstairs from her and how a pipe had burst, rendering her condo uninhabitable. He sat up and put his laptop down on the other seat on the couch to listen to her better, his eyes darting to the window in his living room, the one that overlooked the parking lot outside.

He didn’t understand why she was calling him. Why she was complaining to him about this and why she even started whining. She didn’t let him get a word in edge wise but that worked out because Arthur was speechless for the first few minutes of the conversation. It was... weird, to think that her condo had flooded, what with the massive amounts of money that people put into it. Still, he felt somewhat guilty hearing her talk. She’d been over here all night having sex with him when her condo was flooding... it was probably his fault, then, that she hadn’t been able to call the manager sooner and gotten all of this squared away before it caused all this damage.

He also didn’t understand why, if money wasn’t a problem, she’d rather call him up than rent a hotel. He guessed her point about not trusting maids made sense – though that meant she trusted him more than maids, indirectly – but she could easily rent a place closer to her restaurant, a better place, and most renters only needed a month’s rent. She could easily do that, he thought, so why him? She said something about him always saying stuff like she’d never be able to live below her means or like him, and yeah that was true he did say those things, but he never thought she’d try to prove him wrong. Because she’d never cared at all before – she just said it was fine because she never would have to live below her means. Even as she asked her final question Arthur didn’t say anything, still trying to process what she’d just said to him.

”You want to live with me for a month? Are you sure you’re fine living an hour away from your restaurant? I mean, if you really need a place to stay it's fine, but,” Arthur asked, after a prolonged silence. It was just to prove him wrong, just to get under his skin, but still the idea of her staying here in his space, for a month... how was she comfortable with this at all? Wasn’t she the one freaking out about them leaving their shit at one another’s places being ‘too close’? What if she burned down his apartment? ”How the fuck do I know you’re not going to pull another stunt like the one you did to my shirt? I have plenty of plaid here.”

He rolled his eyes when she told him this wasn’t about living together. Yeah. Sure it wasn’t. But that was what was going to happen for a month. He looked around his living room, feeling as self-conscious as he had back when he first had Chardonnay over here years ago. She was going to be here for longer than just sex. It never occurred to him to make the apartment look nice or what she might think of it most of the time, because she was usually occupied with him when she came in. They’d go to his bedroom and spend the night there, then in the morning she’d use his bathroom and leave. There was no lingering going on in the living room, or in the kitchen. But if she was staying here she would have plenty of opportunity to bitch and moan. He didn’t want to hear that. He didn’t know how it would be having her here but if she started shit talking his apartment, he’d be pissed.

She did know the place, though. She knew how to navigate it and knew his bathroom. She wouldn’t be happy with his kitchen. What was she going to do about food? Would he have to buy her groceries? Fuck no. He exhaled and stared at his ceiling. This was... weird.

”I said it’s fine, didn’t I? And you’d look like the spoiled brat that you are. I’m not going to let it go because you burned my fucking shirt.” He rolled his eyes, but knew she wouldn’t do it again. She was destructive, but not that destructive. If she was willing to cut this thing off, risk him kicking her out of his life, she would have let him go then. But she didn’t.

Though her attitude sure had to change. Rules for this arrangement?

”It’s my apartment, so I’ll be making the rules, Princess. First, yeah, half of the rent is fine. And the water bill. If by the end of the month I get my bill and had absolutely no hot water for myself, you’ll have to pay a big chunk of that too. And don’t bitch about how plain my apartment is. If you’re going to use my kitchen you can buy your own groceries. I don’t keep much here so there’ll probably be room for whatever you bring over. Don’t answer the door if you’re staying at my place, too, and your car...” Where could she park? The lot was pretty big, but he only had one spot for himself. He’d have to tell his landlord he’d need another spot. It’d be awkward, but as long as the rent came in and he got no complains, the landlord would be fine with it. ”...I’ll get you a spot to park in the lot. Don’t park anywhere else, or you’re paying the fine they give me for it. Uhm...” What else? ”...what time can you bring your shit over, anyway?”

She had a point though. Even though she’d burned his shirt he didn’t want to stop sleeping with Chardonnay. He didn’t want her to buy him a new shirt either. What would he do with that? He couldn’t really wear it around his family because no doubt Chardonnay would waste her money buying something designer, and how could he explain buying one to them? It might be nice for formal occasions. Besides, why would he buy a designer shirt for special occasions? He still had that set of three very nice shirts he wore on special occasions (and on that one occasion where he went to Chardonnay’s apartment for the first time). So he didn’t respond to that, though he opened his mouth to and then quickly closed it. He could tell her to shut up but that would basically confirm she was right, so he just didn’t say anything.

”Don’t give me that shit. I’m trying to tell you what you can and can’t do in my apartment. Could you not give me sass for five minutes?” Would he regret letting her stay there? Probably. She was already getting on his nerves and trying to control everything. ”Are you ever actually going to let me shower first? You usually always insist to take one first and then there’s no hot water left for me after. Because you’re so selfish that you want to shower first all the time.”

When she started talking about bringing in food he wasn’t surprised she didn’t want to cook for him. He didn’t mind, either, and would probably just stick to eating microwave dinners and sandwiches. It would be weird to have someone using his kitchen, though, and though he cleaned his stove frequently he didn’t usually use it. ”You’re so demanding when you’re the guest. Jesus fucking Christ. I’m not going to eat your food if you don’t want me to. I’ll probably wind up avoiding the kitchen anyway.”

He looked at the clock on his wall. An hour, huh? He scoffed at her question.

”Of course you’re not sleeping on my couch. You’ve always slept in my bed, but if you bitch about it too much, you’re more than welcome to use the couch. All right, as long as you stuff’s not obvious. I’ll make room in my closet for it. It’ll have to stay in the back, though, in case my sister is ever in my room. I... guess I’ll see you in an hour.”

Arthur shook his head as she said it was his fault for giving her reason to sass him. Really? No it was all her doing. He responded as such but of course she didn’t care, she just continued to tell him it was all his doing. When she told him that he usually woke up before her, anyway, he frowned and complained that just because she did usually wake up later than him, that didn’t always happen. Sometimes she took a shower first and then he had no suffer in the cold. And the prospect of showering right after sex was... not appealing. Maybe if he was alone after sex (which didn’t happen, Chardonnay didn’t leave right after) he wouldn’t mind but it was just weird to shower and then get nuzzled into bed with Chardonnay still sweaty and his sheets all sweaty and... no. Just no.

When she brought up his weight Arthur narrowed his eyes, shut his laptop, and slowly sat up off of his couch. He stared down at the flat expanse of his stomach, hidden underneath the loose fabric of the walking dead tee shirt his sister gave him a few weeks ago. He was pretty skinny. He always had been and it made his brow twitch to think that Chardonnay was reminding him about that. Was she actually bothered by the fact he was so skinny? She never seemed turned off in bed by him but he... just didn’t know. He snapped back that he wasn’t that skinny, and that she should just be happy he was going to be out of the kitchen. Still, it was odd to think she’d be using it... when he barely did himself.

He hung up when she did, and then made good on his promise to clean out some space for her clothes. He went into his closet and pushed the few hanging things aside, fingers brushing over the nice blazer he owned and wore only for formal occasions. There was plenty of room in the back though he only had about 3 extra hangers – Chardonnay better bring her own. He had plenty of space down behind his closet for suitcases. He exhaled and then pushed the drawer shut.

One hour.

In one hour, Arthur managed to dust his living room and reorganize the few pictures there, making sure they didn’t look dusty and clouded. He touched up the kitchen, too, making sure nothing was charred or left in the sink. He saw a package of cigarettes on the table and took them off, shoving them into the back pocket of his pants so Chardonnay wouldn’t see them. By the time there was a knock at is door Arthur blinked and lost track of time – he was surprised she was there a little earlier than he expected.

Arthur walked over to the door and opened it, greeted with the sight of Chardonnay holding suitcases. She didn’t have... quite as much as he thought she would, but she could have more in the car.

”You still have the key I let you borrow, right? You can just keep that to let yourself in if I’m at my sisters or at work,” He said. This was still... weird. To see Chardonnay here, with suitcases, with her stuff, to stay here. He stepped aside and allowed for her to enter the living room. ”Uh... you can just... hang your crap up in my closet I guess. Just don’t... Uh, are you really sure you want to stay here? Are you seriously going to be able to last a month here without giving up?”

He almost wanted to make a bet on it. He rose his brows at her.

Arthur watched as Chardonnay took her suitcases into the apartment, offered to carry the suitcases in for her, but was promptly ignored. Well, he figured as much. Even though she was spoiled and would probably rather someone else do this, he had a feeling her pride would never allow her to ask him for help. Still, it was kind of funny to see her struggle like that. Right, right. She was just here for the month because her condo got damaged. Still, her insistence on staying here was odd. She wasn’t the type to just do this kind of thing on a whim. She wouldn’t really do this unless she was comfortable here, which was something Arthur wasn’t sure how he felt about. He followed her into his bedroom and watched as she hung a few outfits up, the sight... odd. Especially when her suitcase was right there. He looked around at his bare walls, watching beams of sun penetrate the air from outside.

Though she was right – they’d be doing their own thing – it pissed Arthur off to hear her so demanding and bossy. Jesus Christ, where did she get off talking like that, still? He folded his arms across his chest.

”Stop acting like this is your place I’m staying at,” Arthur snapped. But before the sentence was completely out of his mouth, the thought that’d never happen surfaced. Aside from the fact that he would never have something like that happen to him (perk of living in a 2 floor apartment on the top floor). But, theoretically, he would never ask Chardonnay to stay at her place. He’d live with his sister for the month. As much as it would suck she’d understand shit happened, and her couch was comfortable enough. Arthur would probably miss his space if he was being honest, but he’d be able to go back. Meeting up with Chardonnay would be a pain, though, especially if his sister started asking him where he was going. So if they didn’t just want to stop fucking for that month he could ask to stay with her but he knew she’d reject that. She was just here for convenience’s sake and would be ashamed to see him in her condo for anything other than sex. He rose his brows over at Chardonnay, trying to ignore the fact that thought sent a stab of... something through his chest. ”But... fine. We each do our thing. When you’re on your way home from work, text me when you’re on your way. If you’re late closing up or something. It’s not weird if you’re going back to your condo and text me late but if you’re coming all the way here, it’s just... I don’t like surprises so I’d rather you not show up later than I expect.”

He exhaled at her next demand. How long would she even last staying here? Arthur didn't know if she'd last the whole month without giving up.

”Fine. Usually I know at least a day in advance if they want to come over, but I usually wind up going to Susan’s place for overnight trips.” Especially with the new house – Susan would want to get used to everything in it. ”I’ll text you if they come over and leave so you know you can come back. If I wind up going to Susan’s overnight, tell me if there’s anything wrong or just... text me so I know you’re not destroying this place while I’m away,” he said, ”Oh. And August 2nd, Adelaide is staying the night here. Susan wants to plan a surprise birthday party for her, so for that night you should probably find somewhere else to sleep. But after the party she’s not staying here again, so I’ll text you when we leave.”

Arthur rose his eyebrows over at her, wondering if it really wasn’t going to be a pain in her ass if she had to drive the whole hour between her restaurant and his place every time she went into work. She’d have to leave here earlier, and then she’d get back later. It still made him wonder why she chose his place. Maybe she would just find this easier than texting him for sex. Or maybe she wanted to do it more often. Arthur wasn’t sure, but he wouldn’t mind that, but if she was going to be this much of a pain in the ass about it, he’d probably regret letting her stay with him before too long.

”You don’t have to tell me you made it back. Just tell me when you’ve closed up and are on your way here,” He said. Even though he didn’t want to think he would, he had a feeling he’d wind up waiting for her every night. It wouldn’t be too bad, he didn’t go into work until 11, but he just didn’t know. He didn’t like the idea of going to sleep only to have someone coming into his space while he was already asleep. And, maybe, he did need that confirmation she was safe. Thinking about the time he let himself get drunk – he started to remember more about what he’d done after Chardonnay left – made him think that he did need to know she actually got her before he could be calm. He felt dumb even thinking that, but there was some kind of paranoia there about her taking too long to get here when driving that just... irked him.

”Yeah, I’ll see you here, that’s good enough for me. If something’s wrong with you I’d probably notice.” He sneered. And her reaction to him saying she had to find a new place that day irritated him. What? She didn’t think he’d have other plans? Other people who might need a place to stay? Or other places to go? No one other than Chardonnay would be allowed to use his bed of course, but the couch was a pullout for a reason. But did she just expect that he had no friends like her? Though that thought made him pity her more than rile him up. No friends. How the fuck could she live like that? ”Wait... you have more shit? Jesus fucking – whatever. Just make sure it’s hidden. Adelaide will notice if it’s not shoved as far back in my closet as physically possible.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and went back to his couch, trying not to remember the first time Chardonnay had been over and what happened on it. It’d been so long, but he could still remember how nervous he felt when she kissed him for the first (sober) time. He folded his legs up in front of him and returned to his laptop, facebook open in another tab besides his anime. He had a notification from his sister and checked it, before he returned his show. Still, he plugged only one earbud into his ear, so that he could hear Chardonnay in case she had so much crap she stumbled back down the stairs and died in a comedic fashion. No doubt his landlord would be pissed if that happened – that would cost a lot to clean up. Arthur rolled his eyes at the thoughts of his uncaring landlord, and tucked his chin between his knees as he focused on his laptop screen.

Living with Chardonnay was... an experience. Arthur still had his doubts, as he sat there on the couch listening to the sounds of Chardonnay moving her stuff into his place. He never thought he’d be in this situation and it was surreal. He didn’t really think it was a good surreal, either. He liked sleeping with her and spending nights with her, and waking up to her face, but every day? Would he manage to get through dealing with her every day? He wasn’t sure. He tried to lose himself in his show but he couldn’t really do it.

The week wound up being harder than he’d even thought it would be. Chardonnay wasn’t good at acting, not that she’d try to cover her distain for his apartment up. It was painfully obvious she hated it – she hated his couch, his furniture, his décor, his wall color – she had to, with the way Arthur caught her looking at the various things littered in his space. She didn’t like the view or the way he kept his kitchen, she didn’t like the plaid in his closet or the fact his bathroom and space was so small. It was easy to forget about over the course of one night into morning, when they were both focused on other things than the space they were in, but now... they didn’t have sex every night. Sometimes Arthur wished they had not just for the experience but because when they had sex Chardonnay was in a significantly better mood the next day. He hadn’t exactly realized just how sharp that contrast was until he had to deal with her consistently when they hadn’t just had sex.

With every day that passed Chardonnay grew angrier and angrier and that, in turn, pissed Arthur off. He knew he was cheap and could afford a better apartment than the one he had now – he’d considered moving to a better one a few months ago, but with him potentially buying the business next month, he wanted to keep his expenses low for the time being – but he just didn’t want to move. Plus what would that say about him to Chardonnay? That he agreed his place wasn’t good enough? He never would get anything as extravagant as she had. Maybe a bit more space, better neighbors, but this apartment was fine for just him. He was really feeling the lack of space when Chardonnay was there, though.

He was so used to being alone to his own devices in his apartment. He wasn’t exactly lazy but sometimes he’d just lounge around in his pajamas when he didn’t have anything to do the next day, and sometimes he’d never get out of his bed. He’d just nuzzle up underneath his covers and watch his shows on his laptop. But with Chardonnay there he felt a pressure, on edge, because everything he was doing was obviously being judged by her. Harshly. By day three she was completely silent, not reacting to anything, not even when he had to ask her something important. And the next day she was still silent. It got on Arthur’s nerves even more then. If she was so pissed off about being here, she should just leave. It was irritating to deal with and even though he didn’t want to admit it, it hurt him that she was just there in his space... absorbing any semblance of happiness he might have had. He was expecting her to just snap one day and tell him she was going to stay at a hotel. Arthur wouldn’t be mad, or taunt her about it. He’d be relieved and then their relationship could go back to normal. Once a week fucking, no seeing each other every day, no awkward silent treatments and no judging. He grew to look forward to his smoke breaks more than he used to – out there on his balcony Chardonnay never came, and so he could just be by himself for about an hour surrounded by fresh air. He usually put his headphones in and brought something he called ‘dinner’, usually a microwave dish or a sandwich.

By the time she’d been there five days, it was a Monday, and Arthur was exasperated to remember this was Chardonnay’s day off, too, so she’d be there. He tried to avoid her most of the day and succeeded until she snapped about him doing something stupid – leaving his shaving razer on the counter in the bathroom or something – and then it turned into not just jabs at him but at his apartment too. Frustrated by the way she was acting Arthur snapped right back and for one of the few times during their years of fucking around the argument didn’t give him any desire for her at all. He wanted to kick her out on the streets right then. When she told him his apartment was too small and that it was cramped and that his mattress sucked he wanted to kick her ass, literally, out of his door, slam it in her face, and tell her to never text him again. That this was over if she couldn’t get over herself enough to appreciate him giving her access to his personal space, which was already a huge thing itself. He still didn’t know why he’d said yes to her staying here. He didn’t know why he did it, and he hated it. He hated her so much.

Still, he never told her to get out. He never kicked her and slammed the door in her face. Instead he clenched his fists and told her to go find a hotel if she wanted to, if she was so miserable here, that she didn’t need to make herself suffer to prove a point to him. God, he just didn’t care! He didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care and he hated that he couldn’t bring himself to kick her out. He stormed off before she could really respond to him after a few minutes and slammed the door to the balcony shut behind him. He didn’t even bring his laptop with him, just his phone. And sitting out there he went through three cigarettes, because by the time he’d smoked out one, it just wasn’t enough. The nicotine wasn’t working as well as it usually did and he hated that she was making him so uncomfortable. The fact that she was so god damn miserable here was something he wanted to laugh at – because she was so spoiled – but he couldn’t, because it really hurt. It really hurt to have his hard work constantly put down, and for her not to appreciate anything he was doing. He didn’t expect for her to care, but she could at least appreciate it. He didn’t have to let her stay here. She could go somewhere else... anywhere else... if she really wanted to.

By the time he finished smoking it was time for him to go to bed and he saw Chardonnay was already in it. He rolled his eyes, changed, and then slipped into the sheets. He didn’t care if he smelled like cigarettes. He didn’t care if Chardonnay bitched at him. He just wished if she hated it so much here she’d leave. He was miserable, more so than he usually was, and he hated that it was her fault he was spiraling down like this. He pulled the covers up to his chin when he heard Chardonnay speak, and the words she said caused him to turn around and stare at the back of her head. She apologized.

Even if she wasn’t looking at him, there was something about it that sounded genuine. Like she really was sorry for being such a bitch to him. He stared at her hair, observing the way it parted past her ear and exposed that tattoo of hers. That was how they always were. Or how she always was. Even if he was facing her, she was always facing away from him. She didn’t want to associate with him or look at him and that much was becoming more and more apparent as she stayed here. He sighed out his response, a halfhearted “fine”, and then rolled over to face away from her. He was still unhappy with the situation come morning, even as Chardonnay being there was something he came to expect. At work his misery was becoming apparent. She seemed to go back to normal and he put on an act, too, when he was around her but he really didn’t like this situation. How long were the repairs to her condo going to take? When was the next time they’d actually have sex? He didn’t know but he could really use either one of those happening. But every time he was with Chardonnay he just felt so tired he couldn’t muster up the energy to ask if she wanted to have sex.

This evening at the theater had been painfully slow, and he spent most of the shift in his office. Jasmin came in sometimes, to ask him things, but most of the time he wasn’t interacted with at all. He could see his phone’s previous messages were from his sister and Chardonnay primarily, with Chardonnay’s last message indicating she was on her way home last night staring him in the face. Arthur was so exhausted that the end of the shift couldn’t come soon enough. He got a text, this one from Erin, and he rose his brow when it was her sending him a video link. He decided to read it when he got home – or watch it anyway – and just focused back on his work.

The day was done and Arthur closed up the theater, left with only Jasmin for company. They parted ways and he wound up driving to his apartment, debating whether or not he should wait for Chardonnay. He always did, but he was so tired tonight, he just wanted to sleep.

He got home and unlocked the door – locking it again behind him – and then flopped down onto the mattress in his uniform to wait for Chardonnay, and then pass out. As long as she was safe who cared what she did while he slept, if he went to bed before her? He didn’t really look at anything ad flopped backwards onto his bed, expecting to feel the recoil of the mattress beneath his sheets.

Instead, he sunk right in. Arthur’s eyes opened wide and he sat up as he realized that bed he was on. His first thought was that he had gone into someone else’s apartment – how, with his own key, would that be possible – and bolted right off of it, flattening the sheets with a racing heart. But as he saw them he realized they were his sheets. His mouth opened and he tore the sheets and liner off, revealing a mattress that was not his own. He replaced the sheets, backed away, and tried to process what this meant.

This was Chardonnay’s doing.

While the mattress was nicer than his own, and he did love the quality of Chardonnay’s mattress, he was angry. He was furious. His shoulders and arms started to shake as he stared at the bed. This was the thing that was about to break his resolve to keep silent about his irritation with Chardonnay. She’d gone and changed this mattress without his permission and where was his old one? No doubt did she threw it away and that made him angrier. What was he going to do when she left? Would she expect him to keep it? He didn’t want anything from her. He didn’t want her handouts and he didn’t want her to leave this here. It meant more than just a new mattress, she’d done this not out of the goodness of her heart, but because she didn’t want to sleep on his cruddy mattress anymore. She didn’t like this place and she was trying to make it more like hers and he was so pissed off he couldn’t even think. He stayed there for an hour, not even noticing the vibration in his pocket from Chardonnays. When he heard the door open, he turned to face his bedroom door, watching as she rounded the corner and entered the room.

”Who the fuck told you that you could replace anything in my apartment without my permission, Chardonnay?!” he spat before she could even look at him. ”Where the fuck is my mattress?! What did you do to it?!”

She probably didn’t want him to be so irritated at her. She probably expected him to thank her and appreciate what she’d done and, if he believed she didn’t have ulterior motives, he might have. If she had asked him if he minded her replacing his mattress, maybe he wouldn’t have minded. He knew he wouldn’t like her buying him anything; he might have told her she didn’t owe him rent anymore (water bill still stood) but he might have let her. But this... this was completely behind his back. He had no say in this. This wasn’t her apartment, it was his, and he didn’t appreciate her acting like she had any claim to it.

”I don’t want your fucking handouts, I don’t want anything from you, I don’t need a new mattress! Just because your spoiled ass needs the finest luxuries it can get to doesn’t mean I do! This is my apartment. You don’t appreciate anything about it and now you’re trying to make changes to it without my consent?! Just because I like sleeping on your mattress doesn’t mean I need you replacing my shit for me!” He hopped off of the mattress, then, unable to sit on it. He glared over at Chardonnay, who was still in her work clothes he noticed. He took a few steps closer to her, not in her face, but close enough so that he could look at her face to gauge her reactions to his words instead of allowing her the comfort of distance.

”What the fuck is your problem!? If you hate it so much here than just leave! You don’t appreciate anything I have here and now you’re just trying to change shit to make yourself feel more at home. But you’re not at home, you’re in my home! Changing my crap without my permission, sleeping in my bed and using my space! So why isn’t it okay – because you never even asked me and now my mattress is fuck knows where! And my family comes over here too! You think they’re not going to notice the expensive ass bed in my room? You didn’t even fucking think about anything but yourself. Don’t try to act like you did this for me because we both know you only did it for you!”

Arthur maintained eye contact with Chardonnay as he let his temper snap, and of course she snapped right back. Her nostrils flared and her skin was flushing. She was going to get mad at him about this and he knew it, he knew it, and it pissed him off! He didn’t need to deal with her getting mad at him. She shouldn’t be mad, she was the one who did something wrong! Even though he was mad she still didn’t regret it – she never would – because she couldn’t think about anyone other than herself for five minutes! For five fucking minutes, even while she was here, at his place, using his apartment for a roof, she just got rid of his mattress. It worked perfectly fine! It wasn’t as though it was old or decrepit. Sure, it was getting on in years, but it functioned. Though he preferred Chardonnay’s condo’s bed, his was fine. She was so spoiled, so selfish that he just – couldn’t deal with her. He couldn’t deal with her putting him down, his place down, his everything down. He’d never had to notice how degrading she could be to him until he had to live with her.

When she started talking about him appreciating her he rolled his eyes before he focused them back on hers. Was she serious? What should he appreciate her coming into his life for? What should he appreciate her imposing on him – when there was literally no benefit to her staying over here for him given that they hadn’t had sex since the night before she first asked to stay over – for if she was just going to give him shit? Just replace shit when she decided she didn’t like it?

”You’re the one who doesn’t appreciate anything! Not once since I agreed to let you stay over here have you said thank you to me. You haven’t said anything nice to me except sorry, after you told me this apartment fucking sucks, you say you’re not going to replace anything else bot how the fuck do I know you won’t?! What’s stopping you from tearing apart everything here to make it more desirable to you? I let you come in here and you do nothing but tear it, and me, down and I’m fucking sick of it! Just because you don’t understand why I’m so frugal doesn’t give you the right to criticize my apartment and change something as big as my bed without telling me first!” He snapped. When she started counting with her fingers, and turning her accusations back onto him, he blinked, unsure why she was bringing up his health habits. So what he smoked – he did it outside, where she couldn’t smell or see it unless she deliberately went out there, he didn’t ask her for any of her cooking or food (not that she offered any), and then she brought up his quality of sleep. He got plenty of sleep on that thing! His back was fine and he didn’t think there was any damage there. He was used to it, and flexible. But why the fuck did she care about that? About any of that? Arthur opened his mouth to speak but then just blinked at her in response, then narrowed his eyes at her as she hastily moved around towards the closet to get her night clothes. He straightened his frame and frowned over at her, watching her as she bent over her suitcases.

”Jesus fucking Christ. Why the hell are you even mentioning that shit?! That’s my business and I’m not going to die any time soon. It’s easier to make food like that, and smoking... helps. Because you stress me out lately. You’re just so god damn confusing. One minute you actually treat me like a human you respect and the next you pull a stunt like this. I don’t get it,” He growled out, deciding to just sit on the edge of the bed. He rested his elbows on his knees and ran his fingers through his hair. ”Just... fuck it. It’s more of a pain in the ass if you’re going to buy another mattress so don’t pay me any rent money. I’ll just keep this.” He hated that he was relenting control. He hated it, but he was so fucking tired of arguing with her. He’d been arguing with her on and off for a week now with no reward. Except, maybe, this mattress. ”I’d say you’ll be coming here after the few weeks, but given the rate we’re going, I’ll be surprised if we still want to fuck each other after you leave.”

Arthur still couldn’t believe he was in this situation. God, why had he said yes to Chardonnay? Why hadn’t he laughed at her and told her to go find a hotel to stay in? He was too nice sometimes and he fucking knew it. And at times, like right now, it bit him in the ass. Chardonnay didn’t care or appreciate anything he was offering her and he didn’t normally care. She was just such a pain in his ass lately and he wanted her gone. He didn’t want to deal with this right now. He was so tired he could begin to feel his head get heavy, and his shoulder felt shaky, and he sighed. As much as he bitched, the bed underneath his butt was comfortable. He could feel it. But it wasn’t his bed anymore. Chardonnay had just made this her bed by throwing out his old mattress. He was used to her being spoiled, and her condo, but when it seeped into his own personal life, that luxury he found pointless, he just... didn’t like it.

She rolled her eyes at him and he didn’t know why he expected any differently from her. Fuck, why did she have to be this way?

”Oh, shut up. I don’t want to hear that shit coming from you when you’ve had a 900 dollar mattress to sleep on for your entire fucking life. I didn’t grow up as privileged as you did so I don’t mind this. Believe it or not, Princess, having my own apartment and bed and bathroom and everything, is a luxury to me! Sorry it’s not up to your stupid standards to the point that you have to change my personal shit around without asking me!” She wasn’t even listening to him, he could tell, and he fucking hated it. He could have retorted to her comments but she was already heading to the bathroom, already with her back to him, already pissed. He could explain it to her but she wasn’t fucking listening! He could tell her all he wanted about how she wasn’t respecting his space or property by replacing his mattress but he just didn’t bother. He let her shut the bathroom door. ”God damn it, you’re the ridiculous one! And you haven’t even made a move on me since you’ve been here so, just, fuck it! You’ve been too busy moving around my shit and bitching at me for no reason!”

The idea of her paying half his rent, as well as leaving the mattress here, made him angry but there was more to that. Rather than just angering him it made him feel like he was... he didn’t know. Spoiled? He felt like he just didn’t deserve to have a nice mattress in his place? He didn’t buy it with his own money, so maybe that was it. He could argue with Chardonnay about not letting her pay him rent in the morning. If she insisted, he’d just take her money and donate it to some charity, then pay the full rent himself. Might as well make her do something good for the world.

”Over a fucking week and I haven’t even gotten laid, bullshit,” Arthur grumbled to himself as he took off his shirt and threw it onto the bed, digging through his drawers for the nightshirt and sweatpants he usually wore. He didn’t know if Chardonnay was going to come out but he assumed so... she was going to sleep in the fancy ass mattress she bought for his place and he was going to have no choice but to as well, unless he wanted to sleep on the couch. But this was his apartment. He didn’t bother to turn around and glare at the bathroom door as he stepped out of his slacks and hiked up his sweatpants.

Arthur ignored Chardonnay’s retorts about moving his shit and bitching. It was all true. Even if she denied it, Arthur would know it was true. This whole situation was just ridiculous and he was riled up, bothered, bored, tired, exhausted...stressed. He could go out and get one last smoke in but he’d already done that today, and that required going back outside onto the balcony. He leaned against the bedframe of the bed, closed his eyes, and waited for Chardonnay to emerge from the bathroom, flick off the lights, and go to sleep as usual.

She emerged from the bathroom and Arthur opened his eyes, focusing on her angry expression and makeup-less face. He looked at her body, masked behind her new clothes, and then looked away just a quickly, prepared to go curl up underneath the covers. But then there was shift and he saw Chardonnay crawl towards him, straddle him, and look into his eyes. He blinked, surprised she had chosen this moment to approach him. She always surprised him, and he could never theorize what she was going to do or how she was going to react to him. It was annoying most of the time, but sometimes it was thrilling. Like now. His heart was already beating faster before she initiated the kiss, which he reciprocated, moving his mouth against her until he opened it, his hands moving from the bed to her waist, pulling her closer as she pressed her chest to his. That got a groan from him as he kissed her back.

Still, the contact didn’t last long enough and she got up to put her dirty clothes away. As she did that he looked at her body differently than he had before – he focused on her ass, on her hips, and when she turned around to face him, on her breasts. God, he wanted her. It pissed him off that he did, but he knew it was true.

When she spoke up again and asked him if she’d impressed him yet, he rolled his eyes. As she emerged from the closet he waited until she was close enough to the bed for him to reach out and pull her towards him, pulling her so that she landed on her back on the bed beside him. Once he got her there he rolled over and climbed on top of her, roughly kissing her, his hand immediately sliding up her thigh, to her waist, as he pushed aside her shirt and managed to feel her skin.

”I won’t kick you out if you give me a reason to keep you here,” he half-growled against her lips, his voice growing husky, ”so just shut up and fuck me.”