The Dramatic Spiel of Arthur and Chardonnay~ (7,142 views)

Arthur hummed again in response to Chardonnay, feeling sleep beginning to take him over. He was still focused on her face, on those freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks like sprinkles on ice cream. He barely heard her quip about him admitting his mattress was shitty because he was too comfortable. The mattress Chardonnay had bought for his apartment was much softer than he own mattress, it was like sleeping on a cloud. He hummed again and forced his eyes to blink open – unaware of when they’d shut – as she said something about breaking the mattress in. He didn’t respond after that and let his eyes close, his head still facing Chardonnay as he succumbed to his fatigue and fell asleep.

The next morning Arthur woke up, noticing he hadn’t moved from his position of facing Chardonnay, and realized one of his hands was stretched towards her, which was odd. He rarely slept facing Chardonnay, and his limb stretching towards her? What, was his joint stiff or something? Arthur pulled his hand back and straightened up to get ready for work. It wasn’t as irritating to wake up next to Chardonnay’s face in the morning when he could clearly see the hickey he’d gone and left on her neck, though when she got up to join him in getting ready for the day after his shower, he saw the other marks he’d left on her body and felt worse about them. He really had needed the sex, he had a lot of frustration that had made him more aggressive than he usually was. The thought made him blush as he apologized to her and buttoned up one of his dark red work shirts, tucking them into a pair of slacks.

Work after that improved and Arthur swore it wasn’t just because of the sex. It was, actually more than that. He wasn’t as angry at Chardonnay as he used to be. She still got on his nerves a lot, but usually when she did come back from work and start sprouting shit with him he shut her up with a kiss, and managed to get a good fuck out of the situation. That put him in a better mood for when he walked into work the next day to handle his coworkers and future employees, even if he had to have Chardonnay mask any hickeys she might have left on his body.

Arthur grew used to her coming over every night, to sharing a bed with her, and waking up with his head facing her. In fact they screwed so much at one point Arthur had to go and buy condoms on his way back from work one day and it was still awkward for him to buy the things, especially when the cashier was a teenage girl. It was just weird but he got through it and got home. Arthur typically woke up before Chardonnay did and wound up getting a chance to actually use the shower. Now that he didn’t have to suffer in the cold he was more comfortable and he wound up singing to the songs that popped into his head as he did so, trying not to be too loud to wake Chardonnay up. He knew that she had already heard him sing, and had admitted it wasn’t like a dying cat. Besides, it helped him pass the time in the shower. What else was he supposed to do? Think about Chardonnay still sleeping on his bed? No, thinking about that just made him want to get out of the shower and not even bother getting dressed and join her on it, going for another round. Nope. He’d rather sing, because he needed to actually get clean, not sticky and sweaty again.

Jason was working out his retirement plans already. He wanted to take a big trip for the first month, a big trip down to Florida, and while Arthur was happy for him that thought also scared him before for a whole month, he’d be alone without Jason to fall back on for advice or last minute help. Arthur tried not to think about it too much but it was getting harder to do that. He wound up looking over the applications of the current employees they had on file in his spare time, and looked at the applications of potential part-time employees that just constantly rolled in. Metric was popular and students who were coming for the fall semester were looking for work in the area. It was weird that it was already almost August.

Speaking of August, the second was coming up, and Arthur had to approach Chardonnay and tell her that for a night, he needed her to find somewhere else to sleep because Adelaide was going to spend the night. As much as he knew he needed to kick her out for the evening, Arthur knew he’d miss the potential sex they might have had. They didn’t have sex every night now, but they did it a lot more than they had initially when she first started staying with him. But this was still something he had to do and so he had approached her, reminded her about the second and Adelaide’s birthday, and told her to get her stuff together so that Addy wouldn’t find anything.

It was... weird to see Chardonnay leave and when she said bye to him he had half a mind to pull her into a kiss. But he didn’t, because that wasn’t what they were, and told her he’d text her when it was safe to come back.

The next morning Susan and Adelaide came over, bright and early, and Susan was carrying Addy’s suitcases while the tall 11-year-old gave her uncle a wide hug. Adelaide was already almost Arthur’s height, and she was bouncing with excitement at the prospect of her birthday coming up. Susan said there was something being planned but refused to tell her daughter what it was and Adelaide accepted this only because she was going to get presents and cake the next day. That night with his niece was spent playing video games on the TV, usually resulting in her kicking his ass and then celebrating. They wound up ordering Chinese takeout for dinner. At 11:30, he unfolded the bed and let Adelaide sleep on it, telling her to promise him she wouldn’t tell her mother he let her stay up so late. Once he was sure she was asleep he went back to his bedroom and lied down and that was when he remembered Chardonnay. He was so used to going asleep with her now that seeing her spot vacated gave him a sense of loneliness he’d never really felt before. He wasn’t sure what to make of it and closed his eyes, forcing himself to sleep.

The next morning was when Adelaide noticed the new mattress. Excited, she woke up first, and burst into her uncle’s bedroom only to find him still asleep. She jumped up onto his bed to bounce him up, but then she realized the material was different than she was used to.

”Wow, Uncle Artie! When didja get this bed? It doesn’t bounce as well! Make it bounce better!”

Adelaide’s voice was enough to wake Arthur and he jumped, looking up at Adelaide clothed in her pajama top and candy-cane pants. Adelaide’s hands were on her hips and she was grinning. ”Isn’t there something you wanna say to me?”

Arthur was thankful for the subject change. ”Right. Happy birthday, Addy.”

The party went off without a hitch, too. Of course the Halls were there and Arthur spent most of his time helping Johnathan out, bringing out food for the variety of guests. It was kind of odd, Arthur thought, that the only friend from school present was Annabelle. He asked about it, and noticed Adelaide’s face fall for a second before she said that it was fine, that she just didn’t want to invite anyone. Arthur knew better than to ask Susan about that, but he did tell Adelaide she could always talk to him if she wanted to.

Of course, things couldn’t ever go perfectly, and Adelaide brought up the fact that Arthur had a new mattress. Susan didn’t believe her, so she made Arthur bring the two of them back to his place and he prayed Chardonnay didn’t take it upon herself to arrive. Thankfully, she hadn’t. Arthur was subjected to 20 questions as Susan sat down on his mattress and squealed at how comfortable it was. She questioned his reason for buying it and Arthur said his back was bothering him and that he had some money to spare. Susan didn’t buy it and continued to challenge him, but he eventually convinced her with the theory that a better sleep wound improve his work life. Susan looked like she wanted to ask a question after that – likely one that would bring up the crying incident as Arthur now called it – but Adelaide screaming as she messed up Arthur’s sheets ruined the moment.

He had expected to text Chardonnay and tell her that she could come back over that night, but unfortunately, he drove his sister and niece home only to find that their house was a mess. He was hoping to see Chardonnay when she got back to his apartment, but at 9:30 that night he sent her a txt.

I won’t be coming home tonight, but you can move your shit back in. He hit send, finding it weird to refer to a place as ‘home’ when Chardonnay was involved... but it made sense. He shook the feeling off and just stayed at Susan’s place that night. He didn’t tell Chardonnay where he was, he didn’t see any reason to.

He went back the next day after work to find Chardonnay’s things in their usual places. He tried to ignore the fact that he liked seeing them there. That night when she came home from work and he saw her he couldn’t resist pulling her into a kiss, one that he turned into sex. He missed touching her and hearing her voice, he missed having her beside him in bed, and when he woke up the next morning he saw that he was closer to her than he had been before... almost touching her.

It was a Monday morning, and before his shower, Arthur decided to go outside for his daily cigarette. He woke up in a sour mood – he had a dream that was eerie, not bad or good, just eerie. He didn’t even remember what it was by the point he got three puffs into his cigarette, and had his phone out in front of him as he played some stupid matching game. He was in his sweatpants and a zipped up sweatshirt to cover himself, but had yet to get dressed.

Over the course of Chardonnay staying at his place, he’d maintained his single cigarette a day schedule for the most part. The only acceptation was when Addy stayed over, then he hid his cigarettes so that she couldn’t find them. But when it came to Chardonnay knowing he smoked Arthur didn’t really care – or think she’d ever noticed him. He made a match on his phone and held the cigarette between his fingers, stifling a yawn as it came out of him.

The sun had come up a few hours ago and Arthur was happy that he didn’t have to go into work today. It was nice out and he was expecting to just stay in his apartment all day, maybe bicker a little bit with Chardonnay, before he settled into his bed and watched some shows. He didn’t know what he’d do about food – maybe microwave some leftover takeout he had (assuming that Chardonnay hadn’t chucked it on him). He brought the cigarette up to his lips and inhaled the smoke, letting it swirl in his lungs before he exhaled a plume and focused on his phone. It vibrated with a text and he opened it, examined the contents, and then started typing away at a reply.

He didn’t notice Chardonnay for a few seconds as he finished typing and hit send, then closed his eyes and leaned back on the chair. When he finally opened his eyes he was staring over at Chardonnay, and he furrowed his brow at the sight of her with her arms behind her back. She wasn’t dressed or done up. Her face was natural and she was just wearing that baggy shirt she owned – and maybe panties, he couldn’t exactly tell – and he took the cigarette away from his mouth and blew smoke out of his nose as she started speaking.

Immediately he rolled his eyes, about to retort until she moved her arms and pulled out a super soaker from her back. His gut instinct, seeing the gun shaped object, was to flinch as he remembered when he’d had a real gun shoved against his forehead, pressed there, and he broke out in a cold sweat before a burst of water came at him and splashed him in the face. He cursed loudly, the cigarette drenched now as he sat in a puddle on his balcony. The fear gave way to anger as he opened his eyes and held his arms up to shield himself from the spray. He saw a colorful object in Chardonnay’s hands – a water gun.

Fucking seriously?

His ash tray was now gathering water like a bucket, and his phone was covered in water droplets. Arthur coughed, some water having gone into his mouth, and once Chardonnay stopped her water gun he slammed his hand on the table loudly and stood up. His sweatshirt was drenched down the front now, dripping onto his sweatpants and shoes.

”What the fuck is your problem?! I’m soaked now, damn it!” He spat, taking a step closer to Chardonnay, ”What the fuck do you even have a water gun for? And why are you aiming it at me! If you’re pissed off at me then just fucking leave!”

Arthur was still dripping wet, his heart racing in his chest, as he looked at Chardonnay when she finally stopped spraying him with her fucking water gun. Where had she even gotten it? Chardonnay wasn’t the type of person to own that thing so she obviously bought this planning to douse him. Especially with the way her lips were twitching... she thought this was hilarious. She thought this was fucking hilarious and that pissed him off.

When she brought up his smoking habit Arthur felt his mouth twitch down into a scowl. Seriously? He didn’t appreciate anyone telling him not to smoke – not his sister, not his boss, not his friends – no one. Chardonnay had absolutely no right to bitch at him. He wasn’t smoking inside, this was a balcony, and if she didn’t want to smell it she could just stay inside. He always took breath mints before they kissed and fucked, so she didn’t taste it. She couldn’t taste it. He performed just fine in bed, and he never heard her complain about his stamina. He saw her, her mouth twitching in amusement, and closed the distance between them. Instead of childishly throwing water at her like he might have done if he wasn’t this pissed, he glared at her, and pointed a finger at her chest.

”You have no right to bitch about me smoking! I don’t know why you care about me smoking because I never smoke around you, I always use mints before I kiss you, and if I want to put that fucking smoke into my body then it’s none of your goddamn business! Smoking helps me calm down when I’m stressed out – which is something you always make me!” When she said she was going to treat him like a cat Arthur’s brow twitched, and he was conscious of the way he was dripping onto the floor. Her last comments, though she meant them seriously, just annoyed Arthur. ”I don’t smoke excessively. I’ve been smoking since I was 14 and I’m not going to stop just because you sprayed me with a fucking water gun, Princess. Don’t treat me like I’m a cat in my own fucking apartment!”

She was frowning at him, at his scowl and his reaction, and no matter what she was saying he was still annoyed. He didn’t see how this was any of her business. Even when she was here, why did she have to make it her business? It wasn’t his fault that she was here – that was all Chardonnay’s doing when she decided to ask him if she could stay here for a month. And here she was, getting angry at him, saying there was something wrong with him for smoking since he was 14.

He guessed that was pretty young and sometimes he regret getting involved in smoking – only because of reactions like this he typically got from his sister. Adelaide had seen cigarettes in his apartment but had never seen him smoking, but she’d also never asked about it. It was weird that she was two years away from the same age he’d been when he started to smoke. He could blame it on the neighbor babysitter who gave him the first cigarette, but it wasn’t Arthur’s fault it worked. At the time that had been the only outlet he had to get out his frustrations with life. Smoking with that man – barely a day over 20 – had been something to make him feel better after a rough day at school when he was constantly put down and teased. Arthur rolled his eyes and then focused back on Chardonnay’s face.

”Of course you don’t understand – you have absolutely no idea how it helps, so stop trying to act like it doesn’t!” Her comment about herself being here and there being other ways to relieve stress made him flush, and look away from her, and rub his dripping jaw. ”We don’t have sex all the fucking time! Sure, fucking you relieves stress, but it’s – it’s just – this and that are entirely different things! And yeah when we’re having sex it’s a stress belief but when we’re not rolling around, you stress me out. Like now!”

When she brought up his sister Arthur paused, looked back at her with a glare, but one that was slightly dampened as he remembered the fight he’d gotten into with Susan when she discovered his habit. She, like Chardonnay, didn’t think it was right that he was doing something so toxic to his body but Arthur just didn’t care of it was toxic. He could stop any time he wanted, and he just didn’t want to quit.

”It’s not your business if she knows. What do you care about my sister’s reaction?” Arthur said. ”I don’t smoke around her. I don’t smoke around people who aren’t okay with it. I am perfectly fine and I can quit whenever I want to! I just don’t want to and you spraying me with water isn’t going to motivate me!”

Arthur felt his hands clenching into fists as Chardonnay spoke, once again turning this back on his family, about how they felt about him smoking. He had no doubt that both Adelaide and Susan hated the habit and would hate to hear he still did it but he wasn’t going to die because of one cigarette a day. There were people who did worse than he did – people with rotting teeth and cancer who smoked like chimneys on a daily basis.

”Don’t bring my family into this! You don’t know either of them at all,” he spat, but he hated that she was right. Like he’d said years ago when she was worried about Andrew, how her parents would hate themselves if something happened to her and they couldn’t do anything. If something happened to him because of his smoking habit no doubt would Susan lose her mind in grief, and blame herself for never forcing him to quit. The thought made his heart race and his throat shake and he hated it. ”Shut up! I’m 27 years old and if I want to smoke I’m going to fucking smoke! And I’m not a heavy smoker! I’m not going to get cancer and die over one cigarette a day! Everyone dies someday, so what – what the fuck does it matter! I’m fine for now, smoking helps me now, and that’s what matters!”

When she mentioned his frugality and cigarettes he grit his teeth. Of course that argument was coming, it was one Susan always asked him.

If you don’t like spending money, why do you smoke? It’s so expensive. He rolled his eyes. ”I’ll spend money on what I want. And I want cigarettes. So what if they’re expensive – I’m not so poor I can’t afford them! And if I really needed to I could just stop buying them. But speaking of throwing money way – why the fuck did you go and buy a water gun?!”

It would be a lie to say that Arthur had never thought that he might come down with something eventually, or face serious health problems because of his habit. He knew it was unlikely that he’d stay this healthy if he continued to smoke, especially as he was moving past his prime and into the later years of his life. He couldn’t get by with that same attitude he’d had in college forever. He didn’t like that Chardonnay pointed that out and though he was angry he couldn’t retort to her saying that one cigarette a day meant 365 cigarettes a year, which no matter how much he tried to reason, was bad and unhealthy. He didn’t like hearing this but even as she spoke and ranted and tried to convince him that smoking was bad all he wanted to do was light another cigarette and put headphones in his ears so that he didn’t have to listen to Chardonnay bring up all the points that he knew were right. He groaned and brought his hands up to his hair, tugging on it, shaking his head.

He was going to snap something back but then she mentioned the future, and asked him if he wanted kids and a wife and just hearing her say that, hearing her say that she knew that was what he wanted someday, made him pause and raise his eyebrows. He did want a family, someday, but why would she bring that up now? Him getting hitched meant that he and Chardonnay wouldn’t be screwing anymore, and for some reason the fact that she just brought it up so casually here made Arthur’s throat clench and bothered him. He knew she didn’t actually care about him, or actually want anything from him aside from sex and a roof to stay under, so why did it almost hurt to hear her say that? God, too much talk about the future. When he was in High School thinking about his future was all that kept him going but now he was stuck in the present, dreading each new day because he never knew what would happen. Was he going to buy the theater tomorrow? Was he going to meet someone he fell for today – or would Chardonnay fall for someone else tomorrow? Were they going to get bored of fucking one another, would something happen to Adelaide or Susan? Arthur didn’t know the answer to anything anymore and though he liked to budget for the future, he hated thinking about where he might be even a day from now.

If he ever had children, would they look at him like a monster like Chardonnay said? Arthur could remember a commercial he’d seen on TV when he was watching a show with Susan, a powerful commercial that showed the smoker parents as monsters that little children had to face every day. The commercial was enough to make the joyous mood in the living room sober and force Arthur to excuse himself, to go to the bathroom and lock himself in it and curl up into a ball on the floor. He could quit if he wanted to. He knew he could. He wasn’t a monster, he wasn’t an addict. He would never be a monster like those commercials made smokers out to be.

Right?

”Oh, fuck you! If I ever get married and have kids that’s my business! Not yours! I don’t have any intention of getting in a relationship right now and kids are the last thing on my mind! Smoking helps me when I’m thinking about my career, about my life right now, and when I decide to have kids and get married, I’ll just quit!” Arthur spat, coming back to reality outside of his nightmarish thoughts. ”I am not an addict! I can quit, but I’m not going to! Because it helps me especially when I’m buying the business next month! That’s a lot of stress to handle! Throw that stupid toy gun away and get it out of my apartment, before I throw you out! Then you can just squirt me from the goddamn sidewalk if I even come out here to smoke anymore knowing you’ll be around!”

He had grown to respect Chardonnay as a business owner at some point during their relationship. It wasn’t something he really thought about very often, but when he stopped and thought about it, and realized that she was the one successfully running her own restaurant after years of it being open... he felt like he just didn’t compare. And he felt like a fucking idiot when she lectured him like he was a child and told him off for smoking – that if he couldn’t handle the stress of running a business, he shouldn’t bother taking it over. But he could handle the stress. Just because he smoked to help himself cope with it didn’t mean he couldn’t handle it. He wanted to say that but he felt like he couldn’t, he felt humiliated by Chardonnay in that moment and holy fuck it pissed him off. He grit his teeth together as she tried to act all high and mighty clothed in only the baggy shirt she wore to bed, with a super soaker held in her arms. He knew that she didn’t get every single thing she wanted but what right did she have to say that? What right did she have to say that when the reason she was able to open her own restaurant was from her father – a loan, one she no doubt paid back, but from her father – and it was because of that she got into Metric, right? He wasn’t given anything by Jason except a job and this was an entirely different ball game.

But even so she was always her best. Even if she might have been given a silver spoon of opportunity, she took it, and she earned it for herself. And then he was just... trying, really hard, but he felt like nothing he was doing was going well. Jason was all set to leave but Arthur still had a crippling fear of something going wrong and messing up completely and so what if having a cigarette a day helped him chase the nightmares away? It wasn’t like he ever liked himself much anyway, he never liked himself enough to fight to overcome the toxic desire. No matter how excited he was to run the theater, his low self-esteem wasn’t changing. That kind of sucked, though, because he’d always thought that by the time he was this close to owning it, he’d have started to like himself. Even when she said he deserved better than the shit he put himself through he didn’t say anything because he didn’t believe her. He didn’t think she believed herself, either. She was probably just saying that because she didn’t understand why he wasn’t as selfish as she was, or why he wasn’t as eager to spoil himself.

When she basically said he did this to himself because he didn’t like himself, Arthur stayed there, uncomfortably silent. He folded his arms over his chest. He said nothing as she left. Fuck. If he wasn’t stressed out about owning a business before, he sure as hell was stressed out about it now. He was still wet and went to wring out his sweatshirt – when he instead got a better idea.

He finally started to approach Chardonnay again, following behind her as he unzipped his sweatshirt.

”Oh, I’ll get you fucking wet,” He said, taking the damp sweatshirt and throwing it at Chardonnay, not even caring that he was getting water onto the carpet of his living room, because he just wanted Chardonnay to deal with the same level of inconvenience he was. Underneath the sweatshirt he’d been wearing nothing, and so he was now just in his damp sweatpants and sneakers with his hair slicked back due to the water. He shook his head and let the droplets fall, as he leaned against the door to his bathroom, staring at Chardonnay in his room. Looking at his sweatshirt no longer on him he realized how cold he was and hugged himself, covering his nipples in the process. ”And I’m going to take a fucking shower. And I’m taking all the hot water because someone went and sprayed me with ice water.”

Arthur couldn’t help it – when she got mad at him and got the zipper of his sweatshirt caught in her now wet hair, making her look like a dog – he grinned. He continued to lean against the bathroom door as she swore at him and fished the sweatshirt out of her hair. It was heavy now and when she threw it back at him Arthur couldn’t help but shiver – damn thing really was cold. It sucked. He was still grinning though, especially when he saw how her bedtime shirt was now stuck to her, hugging her skin and curves. She looked fucking stupid now and it was all because she had decided to get trigger happy with her water gun. Ha! Like that would have actually had an effect on him other than making him want to piss her off.

She looked ridiculous still, even as she tried (and failed) to wring out the water from her shirt. He saw the way the wet spots were sticking to her torso and had to gloat in his mind – now she knew what he felt like on his thighs and knees and crotch, all of which had gotten splashed with water, resulting in his sweatpants trying to stick to his skin. He needed to get out of these pants quickly of he’d start to chaff – and that wouldn’t be fun at all, especially if it was his crotch that decided to do that – but he had every intention of getting naked. After he pissed off Chardonnay.

”Nope.” He said. He saw Chardonnay try to drat past him for the bathroom and instead of letting her get past him he grabbed her, wrapped his hand around her arm, and pulled her out of the bathroom as he gripped her hips, but not just to touch her. His hands were still soaked from the water gun and he just got her shirt wetter. He made it look like he was going to kiss her – not entirely sure if she’d even go along with it – which was why despite his temptation to make her taste the tobacco on his lips to spite her he just let her think he was going to for a second.

And then, once he’d gotten her shirt wet, he let go of her and quickly ran to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. ”Go take a shower with your fucking water gun!” he spat, back pressed against the door as he clicked the lock shut.

Arthur was successful! He heard Chardonnay’s protests from the other side of the door but they didn’t faze him. In fact, they just made him grin to himself when he heard her cuss at him and tell him any woman who married him was going to suffer. Well, if he married a woman, he thought, but then Chardonnay just assumed he was straight. Whatever – not his issue and he had a feeling trying to explain it would just frustrate him, and maybe make her wonder if he was really attracted to her or if he was interested in someone else because he knew he wasn’t straight. Whatever. He was still grinning, able to see his face in the mirror. God, he looked so stupid. His hair was a matted down mess, the skin of his neck and cheeks were flushed, and his heart was racing for some reason. He glanced behind him, at the woodwork of the door, glad his plan had worked. He hollered out to her that ”when I marry someone, it’ll be someone who doesn’t use all the fucking hot water in the first place,” and then got moving towards his shower. He grabbed a towel from under the sink and lied it out next to the counter, got the placemat down onto the floor, and started the water. With a hiss the showerhead came to life, spitting hot droplets of water down onto the floor.

Arthur stripped out of his pants and hung them on the towel rack, stepped into the shower, and knew he had to waste all of the hot water. But what could he do in here that would take a long time? He shifted from foot to foot, let the water roll over his body and hummed to himself, trying to take a longer time than he usually did running shampoo through his hair and washing his body with the body wash he had sitting on the shelf. But by the time he finished with the conditioner he had only hummed one song, and he was already done! The water, though, was still hot. What the fuck did Chardonnay do in here until she got out? Thinking about her washing her dripping wet body and arching her neck back in this very spot on any other day was making his thoughts drift south, and no, he was definitely not touching himself in his shower with a pissed off Chardonnay in the next room, needing to use it right after, so instead he just sang another song to himself.

Thirty minutes later and the water started to get lukewarm. He shut it off, feeling like a prune, and stepped onto the placemat. He opened his eyes and blinked. Wait. He didn’t bring a change of clothes, and his sweatpants were still dripping – no way was he going to put them on again!

Chardonnay better not be aiming to piss him off in his bedroom. Arthur wrapped his towel around his hips, making sure that it was snug and wouldn’t fall off easily, before he opened his medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of breath spray that masked the scent of cigarettes well. He spritzed it, though for a few minutes he debated not doing it just to piss Chardonnay off more. But in the end he decided it made him feel cleaner so he did, and he unlocked the bathroom and opened the door, blinking, not seeing Chardonnay.

”The shower’s available.” he said, moving towards his closet to pick out a change of clothes. He tossed a green plaid shirt onto the bed behind him, as well as a pair of plain boxers and jeans.

Arthur knew that Chardonnay was going to be pissed at him, so he got out of the shower and saw her in the room, calling him an asshole, he rolled his eyes but watched her out of the corner of them. She wasn’t doing anything right now and so he relaxed a little as he finished gathering his clothes. That was a big mistake because Chardonnay approached him from behind and grabbed his towel and before he could even do anything about it, he felt the white thing ripped from his hips and was suddenly way more exposed than he ever wanted to be in front of Chardonnay.

He yelped and his face went scarlet and, despite the fact that she had seen him naked and touched him plenty of times before, he grabbed something from his closet – a shirt, he figured out as he fingered the material – and covered his crotch with it as he whipped around to glare at her. It was too late, though, and she had just finished commentating on his ass in relation to what her stupid mirror had said the first night he’d spent at her apartment. His blush increased to the point it was almost painful as he glared at her. No matter how often they had sex, if she was seeing him naked when he wasn’t aroused, it was just... too weird to him. He definitely wanted to cover up, especially when he saw the way she looked at him and heard her comments about his ass.

”What the fuck, you bitch!” He snapped at her, but she was already gone towards the shower. He squirmed uncomfortably, very much aware of the fact he was naked, very much aware of his ass as he shifted from foot to foot. Was it really pale? He knew he didn’t go out into the sun exposing his ass – what, was he supposed to go out to the beach and wear a thong or something – and even when swimming he always wore trunks, so maybe it was paler than he thought it should be. Especially give the naturally tanner tone of his skin from his Brazilian roots, any paleness on his ass would stand out like a sore thumb. He tried to turn around and look at it but he couldn’t see his butt, and his mirror wasn’t long enough, and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to be taking any pictures of his ass for anyone, even himself. So he just grumbled self-consciously to himself as he went over to his clothes and picked up the damp towel from them. Thankfully they hadn’t gotten too wet, but he knew he’d have to get Chardonnay back for that.

He finished drying himself and put on boxers and his shirt, then stepped into his pants and did the fly and looped a belt through the holes. Once he was done that he went to the mirror and ruffled the hair on top of his head, checking his chin for facial hair. There was some growing and so he decided he would probably shave after Chardonnay was done with her ice cold shower. After that he decided he should probably hide his cigarettes, so he opened his nightstand drawer and opened it, scanning through the contents for his cigarettes. His hand brushed over the box of condoms he kept there for a second before he shook his head and then pushed it aside.

But they weren’t there.

Arthur’s eyes widened as he threw everything in the drawer out – a few notebooks, the box of condoms, a box of pain pills, and a pack of tissues – but there was no cigarettes even though he knew they had been in there before. He was growing angry as he assumed Chardonnay must have done something – taken them with her so that he couldn’t light another cigarette while she was showering no doubt – and stormed over to the bathroom door, pounding on it before she was even done. God, what the fuck was her problem with him smoking if he did it away from her? What the fuck did she care, and why the hell was she making such a goddamn issue over it? He didn’t get it.

”Hey, Princess! What the fuck did you do with my cigarettes?!” He snapped, ”stealing my shit is a new low. Even for you.”

Arthur waited for the door to open, annoyed, and with his arms folded over his chest. He felt better now that his entire body was covered by clothes, he didn’t feel so naked and exposed to Chardonnay like he had earlier. She shouted back at him and all it made Arthur do was roll his eyes and growl. She took them from him, he had no doubt, but she probably didn’t take them for herself. If her previous actions were any indication, she probably wanted to destroy them. Had she flushed them down the toilet? He almost groaned at the thought of his toilet getting clogged because of cigarette scraps. He didn’t like that she kept bringing up cancer, it made him feel sick to his stomach, but he tried to say that was just her assuming things and not an actual fear he felt. Who cared? He didn’t.

”I did not smoke my whole pack! It was in the same drawer where the fucking condoms are, and now the package is gone!” He spat at the door. She could play dumb all she wanted but he knew what it was. He groaned and knocked the back of his head against the wall, white spots dancing behind his closed eyelids before he glared at his open bedroom door, staring at the scattered contends of the drawer. How had Chardonnay even known his cigarettes were there? Had she seen them sometime? He knew there were times – usually when she had gotten on top of him – that she was the one who reached into the box. It was rarer that she actually put it on him for him – Arthur usually did that part himself – but it wasn’t like it had never happened before. She must have seen them at some point out of the corner of her eye but ignored the knowledge until now. Either that or she had snooped through his drawers. The thought of that happening pissed Arthur off even more than the thought of her seeing them when they were about to have sex.

He scoffed and left the door, taking to his room to try and find his cigarettes. Crap... crap, this meant he’d have to go out and buy another pack. This was already stressing him out more. He’d have to hide the cigarettes in his car now, because he had no doubt in his mind that Chardonnay would just pull this stunt again if he tried to put his cigarettes in his apartment. He turned the bed over, looked underneath the sheets and underneath, leaving the room a miss with crap strewn about his bed. No, it wasn’t there. He opened his clothing drawers but there were no cigarettes there, either. His dripping sweatshirt was now strung across his laundry basket. Somewhere behind him he heard her yell at him about getting sick and the door opened, but he just responded to that with an eye roll. She sure as fuck never had a problem making it so that he could potentially catch a cold.

He was in the middle of rustling through his computer desk when he heard Chardonnay come into the room, and turned around to look at her. He saw the dress she’d chosen to wear but his gaze didn’t linger on her breasts as it usually did when she dressed in something that low-set, he just focused on her face with an angry expression. He didn't respond to her comment about the cold shower, or her telling him to fuck off, he just opened his mouth and said, ”where the fuck are my cigarettes?”

She was playing dumb – again. Arthur didn’t buy for a second that she wasn’t the reason he couldn’t find the damn things. Fuck, and it had been a nearly full pack too! He hated to go out and buy cigarettes and he’d be lying if he said the main reason he did reduce to one a day, aside from his sister, was because the price of his smokes went up. And now a whole pack was wasted all because of Chardonnay’s spoiled ass destroying them! He hated her, he really did hate her. All she was doing here was pissing him off, and sure, having sex with her more frequently than once a week was definitely a welcome change in his life, but this? It was like Chardonnay was interfering with his life when he didn’t want her in it. She wasn’t anything to him except a fuckbuddy, a friend by some loose definition of the term, because they took care of one another if they absolutely needed it and gave each other a sense of pleasure, but they weren’t really acquainted otherwise. So why the fuck was she trying to do this?

He groaned at her and pressed his palm to his forehead. He could feel a migraine coming on and his heart was already racing, pounding in his chest because he felt so stressed out. It was like he was a rope, tethered straight by two rocks, and suddenly the rocks were stretching, putting a strain on him. This was so bullshit.

”You’re a fucking liar! I know you did something to them, they were right there,” Arthur pointed to his drawer and glared down at Chardonnay as she got her shoes on, and then when she stood up he had to glare up at her. Add that to the things he hated about himself – he was short for a guy, something he was told constantly, and something that he didn’t necessarily mind when Chardonnay was far away from him or not wearing heels but right now she was taller than him and that was annoying. She was annoying.

When she started walking out of the room Arthur followed her, shoving past her to get out of the door and into the kitchen. He grabbed his keys off of the counter and knew exactly where he was going – the drug store.

”It’s not that I like buying the damn things. I don’t like spending money on anything and now because of you I have to go buy another fucking pack of cigarettes! Jesus fucking Christ, I hate you.”

Arthur got into his jeep and slammed the door shut behind him, taking a deep breath as he pressed the back of his head against the headrest. He recalled what Chardonnay had said to him on their way out of his apartment, both too angry to really look at each other. She was just annoyed at him, obviously. So annoyed that she didn’t even care about his own personal preferences or stress levels. It’d be fine if he quit, she didn’t get why he didn’t just quit, but he didn’t want to. He could hear Chardonnay’s car start up a few spaces away and didn’t watch as she drove. He didn’t care where she went or what the hell was so important that she had to go. Arthur was pissed at her and she was just so spoiled – trying to make him feel bad for smoking. If he didn’t know any better with how often she brought up him dying or getting cancer he might have pegged her as worried – but even if she was worried about anything, it was losing her free ticket to sex whenever she wanted (within reason). He rolled his eyes. Whatever.

The next week went by pretty quickly. Things with Chardonnay were still tense when he got home that evening after getting a new package of cigarettes. He kept them in the glove compartment of his Jeep. He and Chardonnay barely spoke after he got home and that night was spent with him facing the complete opposite direction of Chardonnay. Their legs didn’t even brush up against one another in their sleep and the next morning Arthur got up first and didn’t spare her a glance before he took a shower. He was back to his usual brief showers now – he really didn’t like long showers – and got dressed before he headed out to work. The day was long and Jason wasn’t feeling well so he didn’t come in. Arthur found himself nervously driving to the bank on his way home, and asked to view his account.

He had enough. He had enough to buy the theater from Jason and whenever that was going to happen, he could afford it. That made him nervous, so nervous he nearly threw up in the lobby as he excused himself and went back to his car. Instead of going straight home to the apartment Arthur stayed out all night, taking a long drive along the highway, trying to air out his head. He felt so stressed out and craved a cigarette, but as he did so, he remembered what Chardonnay had said about him being stupid for needing a cigarette to help with the stress. Jason didn’t like this habit but what would he think if he heard what Chardonnay had said? Would he agree? Arthur had a feeling he would. He almost didn’t light a cigarette that evening, but eventually he told himself it was one and parked his car on the side of the road, pulling his brand new package of cigarettes out of his glove compartment and his lighter. He walked over to the railing of the bridge he was on and stared out at the glistening waters while the sun went down. He was on that bridge that he always passed going to Chardonnay’s place. He really liked the view here and, if he was being honest, he missed this place a little. He stayed there, smoking his cigarette until it was a stub between his fingers, watching the waves roll and the sun set. That night he didn’t get in until three in the morning and he didn’t bother to say anything to Chardonnay, brushing it off as just a drive if she’d been awake to ask. He got changed into his pajamas and curled up underneath the sheets, still angry at Chardonnay and still tired.

The next morning he’d gone to pick up Jason himself and made sure the old man got to work. After work he went to Jason’s and fixed him dinner, before he headed him himself and didn’t eat anything. That evening while Chardonnay was still at work he let himself smoke – and then he found the remains of his old cigarette box scattered in a bush below. When Chardonnay got home he snapped at her about that and got mad but he didn’t silence her with a kiss. He didn’t initiate sex at all and he went to bed that night even angrier than he did before.

That Thursday night, Arthur came home from the theater and sat at his kitchen table, getting on the phone with his sister. She was already planning their annual trip to New York City but Arthur wasn’t sure how long Chardonnay would be here – and he didn’t want to leave her here without him for a whole week – but fortunately for him trying to make up an excuse, Adelaide was involved in a dance show that week so she wanted to postpone the trip a few weeks. Arthur agreed to do it around Christmastime this year. New York during the holiday season was beautiful, but cold, and Arthur knew he’d have to buy himself a heavier jacket than the sweatshirts he used in California. After he got off the phone with Susan he saw he had a missed call from someone else – Erin – and called her back.

She was in desperate need of a ride to bring her home and Arthur agreed to take her home from the club her girlfriends had abandoned her in front of. He got Erin home, received 30 bucks for his trouble, and by the time he got back home Chardonnay was already there. Still angry at her, Arthur didn’t say anything until they inevitably got into another fight. While they were arguing he finally looked at her, saw what she was wearing, continued to argue with her, until he remembered his missed her lips and pulled her into a kiss. Even though he was still mad at her, and she him, they had sex that night, even if they bickered between kisses until they forgot why they were mad. Of course, they remembered in the morning, but the sex was a welcome stress relief to the confusing monstrosity that was his life at the moment.

The weekend passed without much excitement – except the primer of a really anticipated movie forced Arthur to actually go in on Sunday – so by the time he got back to his room he went right to bed. Chardonnay was already asleep but he didn’t think much of it, and he fell asleep easily.

That Monday morning, he woke up first. Or, so he thought anyway. He sat up and turned to look at Chardonnay’s sleeping for, hoisting himself up on his palms. She looked like she was shifting, about to wake up, and since neither of them had work that day he figured he’d let her sleep. But there was something off about her expression. It was like she was in pain, or having a nightmare or something. He opened his mouth to speak but she groaned something out and he didn’t speak. Instead he paused, smelling something that was a little bit like rust.

For a terrifying second Arthur was paranoid that she’d somehow cut her arm off last night and just tried to sleep it off like an idiot, but when he pulled the covers aside he saw that there was no dismembered limbs. Instead he saw her legs, the way they were bent up and the way her arms were curled over her stomach, and suddenly he understood. Oh.

He’d come in on his sister moaning in pain in a position similar to this, complaining about her period and how it hated her so much. Arthur never really understood it at the time, but whenever his sister got like that he was used to having to get things for her. Usually it was just food, but sometimes, she’d run out of pads and tampons. Then she’d beg her brother to go to the store for her. As an award 15-year-old, it was awkward to go and buy the things for her, but he got used to it as he got older. And he guessed, even if thinking about vaginas bleeding was gross, he’d rather Chardonnay be bleeding than pregnant.

He got up out of bed, re-fixed the covers, and went to do his business. He took a shower and got dressed in a grey-and-blue tee shirt and jeans, looped a belt through the rungs, and shaved his chin using the bathroom mirror. Nothing was amiss until he took a look down at the trashcan and saw a box, lamely hidden, of tampons sitting there. He furrowed his brow and looked at the brand, then the package number, then checked inside. There were none left. Was she all out?

It could be like the condoms, where Chardonnay thought she had enough to last her the time she’d be staying here, but she really didn’t? He exhaled and rubbed aftershave eon his chin, then thought about the pros and cons of going out to get a package of tampons. Well, he was going to the store to pick up some more toilet paper anyway, and if it came down to her having more than enough, he could just give the tampons to Susan. Or hide them in her bathroom so he didn’t have to explain why he just happened to have an extra box of tampons lying around.

Arthur went down to the store and grabbed a basket, filling it with some toiletry. He saw the feminine hygiene products and examined the brands until he saw the one Chardonnay used. Of course it was the most expensive one. But he guessed if she was shoving it up her vagina, it should probably be something high quality. He tried not to blush at the thought of other things being shoved up there, but failed.

He went to the food aisle to calm himself down, the cool air welcome on his skin. He caught sight of the ice cream and tilted his head. He saw the vanilla bean flavor, arguably the best flavor of ice cream ever conceived, and only hesitated for a few seconds before he threw a tub into his basket. He was getting it for him, he told himself, not for Chardonnay.

He got home and immediately put the ice cream in the freezer, and put away the toilet paper in the bathroom. He then entered his bedroom, slowly approached his bed, and saw that Chardonnay was still curled up. He exhaled. He almost felt bad. Like when she was hung over after drinking herself into a stupor because of that Andrew guy.

He tossed the box so that it landed beside her on the bed.

”If you have another box, whatever. You can just keep that. I’m not gonna use it.” He said. ”If you want any, there’s ice cream in the freezer.”

What? No. The ice cream was his. Oops, he already offered it. ”I mean, I bought it for me but I know when Susan’s on her period she can eat a whole tub of ice cream. So help yourself.”

Arthur waited for her to react to what he’d done, and when she finally did, it made him crack a smile despite himself. She was blushing like a tomato, like he usually did when the slightest little embarrassing thing happened, and honestly he found it hilarious. If anyone would be embarrassed about this situation most people would assume it would be him, ‘the guy’, who didn’t have experience dealing with periods and would probably blush and stutter while the cashier gave him a deadpan look. But he was over that stage of his life and now he could just get some amusement in the fact that apparently Chardonnay was embarrassed.

He shook the smile away, his expression going back to default, as he saw her opened the box and look at the contents. There better not be any missing. That would look really weird if he just gave her a tampon box with one gone. She blinked like a fish and Arthur really wished he’d recorded this incident just so that he could have her face on record. But, then, if he had a recording or picture of her on his phone, wouldn’t his sister or niece see it when they scrolled through his photos? Not that they usually did that, but it was just way too... never mind. He just wished he had video record of her being this flustered.

When she turned towards him in shock Arthur rose his brows and folded his arms over his chest.

”Yeah. I did.” He said. The look on her face changed from flustered to suspicious and he narrowed his eyes in return, not exactly buying why she was looking at him that way. He almost asked her what it was until she asked him why he did it. That coughed Arthur to breathe out a sigh as he rolled his eyes. ”Because you were curled up in pain and the box of tampons in the bathroom is empty. It’s not –“ he watched as she hunched over in pain and cut himself off for a second. He felt bad for her, for a few seconds, until he forced himself to look away and lean against the wall. ”I didn’t do anything! Jesus fucking Christ. It’s not a big deal, I’ve bought them before. Am I never allowed to be nice to you? Because I’m pretty sure it’s happened before and you didn’t have objections.”