The Dramatic Spiel of Arthur and Chardonnay~ (7,119 views)

If he wasn’t still feigning sickness, Arthur could have skipped to his car! He knew that Lockwood couldn’t see him now, but there was always a chance that the man slipped out of his door to look at them. And he wasn’t prepared to risk that happening. He heard Chardonnay’s footsteps approach him and glanced over at her. He knew them talking about the presentation probably wouldn’t go over well if he invited her to his apartment. Sure, he was better now and knew that he wouldn’t let himself fuck up the presentation if they had sex, but.... he knew he wouldn’t be thinking about the presentation. He’d be thinking about her, about sex again, and while it might be fun he didn’t want to risk being late for the presentation because he forgot to set an alarm. So any discussion would probably have to happen here. The library was out – no one there would let Arthur and Chardonnay within ten feet of each other, understandably.

At her confidence Arthur rolled his eyes.

”Really? I was, until you spoke up. I know you’re always condescending, but to Lockwood? When we haven’t even graduated yet? I wasn’t so confident.” He said. Though he knew picking a fight was probably an issue, he couldn’t just hold it in when it came to her. Still, they’d gotten through it... and when she had messed up and spoken out of turn, he was expecting her to storm out and give up explaining. So he was a little impressed she was able to calm herself down and apologize, and win Lockwood over. Lockwood, the man who was impossible to impress and appease when you were on his bad side. So the two of them must be a pair of his favorite students, he figured. ”But whatever. We got through it. And now we just have the presentation... we’ll be fine. We only got through a few minutes of it before I messed up. I think the only things we could add to it would be in regards to how it’s presented. But even that we have down. Lockwood won’t be happy of our project is any different than the final draft we gave him before we presented. So we could coordinate outfits or something like that, or make changes to our script, but... that might take a while and if you come to my apartment again, we’ll probably... get distracted... or something.”

He cleared his throat, again. The presentation was going to be fine as it was, right?

Arthur quirked his eyebrow at Chardonnay’s explanation for why she’d back talked Lockwood. He was their professor, they were required to treat him with respect. He was older than them and had been in business longer – maybe he hadn’t told her stories about his past, but Arthur knew plenty, from being his student fairly regularly over the years. So he had respect for the teacher that, he noted with an eye roll, Chardonnay clearly lacked. How did she ever expect to get anywhere if she was convinced everyone was on a pedestal who didn’t take her shit? Even though she wasn’t as bad as she used to be, she still put herself on a pedestal sometimes. Most of the time, actually.

But instead of challenging her and getting on her bad side before they got a chance to re-do the project, he made do with the eye roll as he walked beside her down the hall. Lockwood’s dignity wouldn’t be compromised if she thought ill of him. Arthur glanced at a few people sitting on the benches. It wasn’t like High School was – not many people paid them much mind even if they were Arthur and Chardonnay. Though there were rumors spread about them even now, they got less attention by the more serious students focused on getting their degrees. Sure, there were still the occasional sneers he got, the occasional questions about when he and Chardonnay would start dating... he would be glad to get away from the question, really. He looked back over at Chardonnay after his comment and tried to see her reaction – she hid her face with her hair, though – he was sure she was thankful he wasn’t inviting her over. For one, she obviously hated his apartment. And for two, she’d appreciate not having to be distracted by the apparent lust they had for one another... right? Or maybe she’d scoff at the idea, irritated he’d even suggest it’d happen a third time. Two was probably enough for her, wasn’t it?

He rubbed his neck as she looked back over at him, basically agreeing to what he’d said.

”What? I’ve done business presentations before, I know coordination looks best. And I own black, blue, grey, and red ties.” There was that stupid condescending attitude of hers again. Just because he rarely wore ties didn’t mean he didn’t own them! And dry cleaning his clothes – did she think he was that much of a slob?! Of course he’d get them dry cleaned, he wasn’t going to show up in wrinkled clothes – before he could get annoyed, though, she suddenly whipped around and hit him in the arm, hard – harder than he’d ever expected to be hit by her! He swore and rubbed his arm. ”what the fuck?!” He spat, and at her explanation for why she’d done that his eyebrow twitched. ”I was trying to get you to stop talking! And I didn’t hit you that hard, I – did I?” oh now he felt doubt. He bit his lower lip as he glanced at her knee. Oops. ”okay, fine, sorry. But I thought you were ruining both our chances at passing. Don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing to me if I messed up.”

Arthur did not buy for a second that she wouldn’t have done the same thing, even if she claimed otherwise. Since when had she ever cared about not looking like an aggressive bitch?! She sure as hell had no problem looking like one to him. He frowned at her comment. Truth be told he’d been hit harder than she hit him just then but it still was unexpected, so it stung, slightly. Not to mention she’d used what strength she actually had. Her hitting him was not the way he wanted her to be touching him. He much preferred the softer caresses of her hands, when she slid them over his skin and tangled them in his hair. He exhaled a sigh.

”Maybe you shouldn’t be so aggressive if you don’t want to come off as aggressive, just a thought.” He snapped back, ignoring the confused looks they got from some people. A few people laughed and when neither of them started screaming they lost interest. When they reached the entrance of the building, Arthur was under the assumption that his description of his ties was going to be fine for Chardonnay and she could just pick a color and go with it. However she wasn’t satisfied and Arthur turned to her with a puzzled look on his face. Burgundy? Okay, he knew that one, and ruby red was easy to figure out. But weren’t light blue and teal the same thing? Or, almost anyway? And what the fuck was speckled grey, grey with white dots on it? ”uh...” he tried to think about his ties. All that came up was ‘average red’, ‘light blue’, ‘medium grey’, and ‘black’. ”the blue’s light?”

Now, maybe if Chardonnay had pulled up images of the colors he could describe them better but he really wasn’t going to ask her to. He felt stupid enough already. ”Okay look I don’t know how to describe colors except that they exist. The red’s not obnoxious like PS paint default red, but... just... look, either you can come over and I can show you, or I can text you a picture of all of them, because I’m never going to describe it the way you want me to.” but pictures came out with the wrong colors, right? Would that work? But then again, wouldn’t it be odd if he had Chardonnay over again, especially in his room, with his bed right there? Whatever. They were adults. Maybe she didn’t need to know perfectly – a picture would give her a good general idea, right?

-- One week later: Makeup Day --

When he’d gotten home that day, Arthur had laid out his four owned ties onto his bed and sent a picture to Chardonnay. It was very awkward, especially because he knew what he’d done on the bed twice now with her, but that was the only place that the lighting actually looked decent. She was still in his phone as ‘Spoiled Princess’ and he didn’t feel like changing it... even if they’d slept together and were working together now. So he sent the image to her and then went about his business.

He cleaned his apartment again, making sure he didn’t forget about any articles of clothing in the living room or in the hallway. He didn’t. Which was good, because Susan was supposed to come over tomorrow with Adelaide. He didn’t need anything weird to be going on in his apartment to even let that woman think he was anything other than the same blushing virgin he’d been a week ago. She’d ask questions he wasn’t willing to answer and given everything his sister liked to tell him about her exes now that he was ‘old enough’ to hear, he felt like she’d have no limits in interrogating him.

It was very annoying to get through that week before they presented again. More often than not he found himself thinking about Chardonnay when prior to them hooking up – even when they were assigned as partners – she wasn’t on his mind half as much as she was now. She always pissed him off but it was so easy to just throw himself into video games and forget she existed. He still tried that on steam – he’d put on his headphones and lose his temper at some idiot who couldn’t pull their weight – but then he usually said something that made him think of her again. Something like, ‘I’ll never have to deal with this fuckface after we’re done this mission’. But instead of it making him flustered like it had after the presentation the first time, it gave him some kind of melancholy feeling. Because even after this presentation... they’d never see each other again. There would be no more excuse, no more banter, no more rumors spread about them. All good things, really. But then when he thought about it and when the deadline for the assignment came closer he found himself sitting on his patio with a cigarette between his fingers almost every night. She didn’t message him again except to tell him to wear the grey tie. He was glad he didn’t have to deal with her, that there was no sex to distract him from his alarm. He went back to his picture perfect schedule for work – his boss bought the sickness story with genuine concern for his health. He practiced the presentation in front of a mirror, making sure he knew the lines like the back of his hand. He was not fucking this up again. Even though Chardonnay had been on his mind for a week, he could control it now. He knew she wasn’t just... making fun of him. He didn’t have to worry about her sabotaging him.

He knew that they weren’t going to be serious... a relationship with her? He would drown in all the ‘I-told-you-sos’ from Amy before he could even finish the sentence. Besides, he knew after they graduated they’d never see each other again. And her, as if she’d ever hold romantic feelings for him. If anything she found him attractive, fuckable. She had her own agenda for her life, her perfect future, and he had his plans. Neither one had room for the other in it. That thought made him light another cigarette. He was sure he’d just miss the sex. And he really couldn’t see himself as a player, or a flirt. Hell, he still didn’t even know how he’d gotten Chardonnay into bed with him. Not that it’d really been his decision... she’d been the one to pull him into it. Literally.

Just one more presentation.

He knotted the tie around his collar the next Monday morning. Today was the day they were doing their redo and not getting a 1.0 for the final assignment. He wondered what she’d show up in – something grey. He was glad she chose this color. In all honesty seeing her in something red would be more distracting – because that color looked the best on her, in his opinion, anyway. Something light blue wouldn’t be have been much better, and black, well, that probably would have been fine. But he’d always associated grey with lawyers, and lawyers bored him. He’d just pretend Chardonnay was a lawyer. Nothing sexy about that, right?

He didn’t put on his glasses this time. He tucked his shirt into his belt and combed his hair, the dark strands falling into place. He looked much better rested than he did a week ago. He was more prepared and determined. He was going to ace this thing or – well – come as close to acing it as he physically could.

He reached campus in a few minutes and parked his car. He grabbed his bag and papers and took a deep breath. He walked up the steps to the business building, a building he’d been in and out of for years. It was weird to think this was one of the last times he’d be stepping foot into it. He entered the lecture hall and was conscious of the eyes on him. His episode from last class made him a spectacle. He was sure some of the students were surprised to see him dressed up, and as he put his bag at his table Lockwood came over and asked him how he was feeling. He informed Lockwood he felt much better, and they had a brief conversation. The first group to present went up to get ready. He saw the concerned girl from the other day – that one who’d asked him how he was feeling before he bolted from the room – and smiled. She seemed confused, but smiled back as she continued setting up her presentation. Most of the class seemed to think that the world was at peace again (or, something like that), though there were many sets of curious eyes looking for Chardonnay to make her entrance.

Arthur played a game on his phone while he waited for her to show up.

Arthur didn’t have to look up to know that Chardonnay had arrived. It was obvious in the reactions of the other students, ones who had all stared at him when he’d first arrived. Still, when he heard the snickering, Arthur couldn’t help but feel annoyed. What the fuck were they laughing at? Chardonnay wouldn’t make a weird face at their reactions and attention, would she? She wasn’t the type to do that and he had no doubt in his mind that she looked well put together. So it had to be laughter about the stupid presentation that had gone down the tubes last time. Arthur glared over at the duo of guys who’d started the laughing, who were elbowing each other in the side. If he didn’t have a presentation (or potential jail time) to deal with, he wouldn’t have minded hitting them in their faces. He’d been in classes with them before and they were loudmouth juniors, so convinced they were great students. Prior to that fluke of a presentation, Arthur had never gotten a mark lower than them in his entire career. He was annoyed to realize that no matter how good they did on this presentation, that 3.0 would be less than whatever they had.

But, still. 3.0 was better than 1.0. He took a deep breath and turned back to his game, only remembering Chardonnay had arrived too when she took the seat beside him. He glanced over at her – yup, she looked like a lawyer. So not sexy. Except, okay, if there ever was a sexy lawyer it was her, but he wasn’t allowed to think that right now. So he didn’t let his eyes linger over her body and instead turned back to his phone, as though he wasn’t interested. Aside from the basic fact that being distracted by her body might throw him off during the presentation, he could feel the class’ eyes on them. One prolonged glance at Chardonnay’s body and he’d be in for a world of pain. The rumors would worsen, right before graduation. What if some asshole yelled something out when he went to get his diploma about Chardonnay? God, he’d kill them, because Susan was going to (unfortunately, because he didn’t like seeing himself on video camera) record the whole thing.

He wondered if Chardonnay’s parents would be there, at graduation. It was likely they would, they loved her so much – he remembered meeting Mr. Nicholas and his stomach flipped. He’d respected the guy after they got to talk. He was self-made and intelligent, and they’d had a really in depth discussion about business until he found out he was Chardonnay’s father. He could still remember the awkward tension that had been at that family party because Susan insisted they all sit together at the same fucking table, tension that increased when the video of the party was shown. The fierce assurances that nothing else had happened were believed, and Arthur liked to hope they left on a slightly positive note. But the idea of him showing up made Arthur nervous because now he hadn’t just kissed Chardonnay when they were drunk at a party. He’d slept with her, when they were sober, twice. And though he knew it wasn’t really any of Mr. Nicholas’ business because she was an adult and she could do whatever she wanted (he knew Chardonnay wouldn’t ever tell him anyway), he’d just feel... awkward. Especially because he wasn’t dating Chardonnay, and they'd still slept together twice... he knew if he had a daughter, and the roles were reversed, he’d be livid.

But what was he thinking about? They had a presentation to go through! Even if her parents went to the graduation, there was no way he’d see them.

Arthur had, fortunately, been staring at his phone so no one thought anything was amiss. He caught Chardonnay’s comment and snorted.

”What? I thought you liked being the center of attention, Princess,” He said in a harsher whisper than intended. He watched as the first group turned on the projector and had a discussion while Lockwood took some notes on his paper. ”If we’re the center of attention now, we won’t have to wait for the class to shut up. It’ll be easy to surprise them. Nothing’s going to go wrong this time, my stomach’s better.”

The latter sentence was mostly added because he knew their conversation would be overheard. As the clock hit 9:30, Lockwood cleared his throat and Arthur put his phone away. It was time for the last presentations to start.

He rolled his eyes at her comments. She liked to be the center of attention, but not when it was about them? He could live without the attention, really. Chardonnay could have it all. Except now their claim to fame was being a not-couple, and usually when people thought about one of them the other one wasn’t too far behind. He didn’t respond because class was about to start. He did utter out an agreement of Lockwood attempting to kill them if they messed up a second time, though. If that happened Arthur would take it gratefully. As his nerves began to build, he took a deep breath. He felt a twitch in his knee. Whenever he felt nervous that scar liked to act up a little, the pain from being shot impossible to forget. It was fine. He’d be fine.

Arthur sat through the other two presentations. The first one was more engaging simply because he knew one of the presenters. She was nervous but pulled through well as she always did, their project getting polite claps after it finished. If he had been paired up with her, Arthur thought, absolutely nothing like what happened with Chardonnay could have happened. For one they would have met up in the library rather than at his apartment. For second, he wasn’t attracted to her that way. She was pretty, but he saw her as a potential business partner, as a friend maybe, but it wasn’t like what had happened with Chardonnay. His eyes glanced over at his partner for a second as she regarded the presentation on stage coolly. When she kissed him all he’d wanted to do was kiss her back – anyone else he wouldn’t have shoved away, likely, but he’d have pulled away. Why the fuck was it so difficult with her? He could have had a 4.0 if he didn’t have that... that handicap of sexual attraction. That attraction to her he'd always felt, but always been able to suppress until a few nights ago. It would have been so much easier if he was paired with someone else!

Though to be fair, Lockwood’s grading was harsh. Working with Chardonnay was the only way he knew he’d get a 4.0. So... either way, his grade would suffer. Probably less if he hadn’t bolted from the room, though.

The other presentations weren’t that exciting. The kids who went last were nervous beyond belief, but didn’t mess up as bad as Arthur and Chardonnay had. Their idea was good but their execution lacked – Arthur knew they’d have points docked for that. He couldn’t mess up a hair. That 3.0 required perfect execution and he wasn’t going to settle for anything less. After the last group went the class was ready to go until Lockwood spoke up and a murmur spread throughout the crowd. He felt the eyes crawling on his back before he even looked up. Lockwood did not give second chances. The entire class was scandalized. Some assumed the problem was more serious than it had seemed to be – but a few seemed to murmur in discontent, thinking that Lockwood was playing favorites. Lockwood paid them no mind from the back of the room, pulling out a grade sheet.

Arthur glanced over at Chardonnay and met her eyes. They both knew what they were in for.

He got up and followed her down to the front of the room. It was easier, now, to dissociate himself and just remember what their product was, what they were selling, what his script was. Even if he was attracted to Chardonnay he could put that aside. They’d slept together twice but it wasn’t happening again after this. He wasn’t prepared to risk his career and future over that.

When Chardonnay started talking it was similar to before. The class had quieted down and was now staring at them with interested eyes. That was good, he thought – part of the presentation depending on the reactions of classmates, and everyone was engaged, even that kid who always sat in the back and texted someone. He felt the pressure building up on his shoulders and squared them, glancing over at Chardonnay for his cue to talk. He was fascinated by the way her lips moved but it wasn’t necessarily in a sexual sense, the way she was again putting aside any nerves she might as well be feeling in favor of professionalism. Something he hadn’t bene able to do before.

It was his cue to talk and Arthur didn’t hesitate before he took the reins, the class’ attention peeked, waiting for him to mess up and bolt out of the room again. But he didn’t and the faces of confusion and disappointment at that only gave him determination to keep going. Before he turned to look at Chardonnay to give her the second cue, he included an improvisation – a comment about running that got more interest from their classmates, turning their previous fuckup into an advantage to get the engaged interest back. Then he looked back over at Chardonnay and waited for her to keep going. All they had to get through now was her part, and then after that the conclusion. He didn’t chance a glance over at Lockwood but had a feeling they were impressing him again – because if they weren’t, he would feel the glare from here.

As he predicted, the presentation went well. Arthur was really beginning to beat himself up on the inside for getting distracted the first time they’d presented. God, if they’d only slept together earlier... or, actually, if that was the case the content might have been skewed. But even then they could have talked about it before. Or... whatever. Thinking about that wouldn’t help him finish his presentation. They both were skilled enough to get through it with little problems. And they’d get that 3.0. Even if it was hard to tell if they would, given Lockwood’s reactions. The guy was such a harsh grader, and he had a terrifyingly good poker face. Finding out their grades before they were posted was impossible.

Arthur glanced back over at Chardonnay as she spoke again, memories of the first time they’d presented together coming back to him. Begrudgingly he’d been impressed by her performance – even as a freshman she had the skill and the talent to actually convey her ideas. And, as much as he hated how arrogant and know-it-all she came off ass it balanced well with his slightly more modest approach. It wasn’t just that they’d worked well together in designing a business or even getting the slides to look nice. Their success, at least according to Lockwood, was in the way they bounced ideas off of each other and even though they were chaotic up until the presentation, the end results were... this. He turned away from Chardonnay and spoke again, bringing up his final points before the conclusion went to Chardonnay to deliver.

As their presentation came to a close, Arthur felt euphoric. Thank God they’d gotten through this stupid thing. He glanced over at Chardonnay on instinct, just because he always looked over at his partner after he presented something, when he caught the natural smile on her face. It wasn’t a cocky, arrogant snicker like he expected. She was genuinely happy to be done with this and to have done well, and so was he. But it was more than that. He’d never admit it, but he was actually kind of proud of her. She was so much different than the spoiled brat he’d met in the woods. She was serious about her business and as much as it irked him because he knew she’d never feel the same, he couldn’t help it. He’d never admit it out loud, for that very reason. But, before he could think about it too much, her smile made him smile in return. He supposed he was proud of himself, too. Of all the hours and work he’d put into this project, and any business project he’d had. This was his last assignment due and once he got his grades back, he’d be set to graduate. The sun was making her lips shine, and as he noticed that he read them – thank you.

Oh. Right. That was a thing that was typically said following a presentation. He better not mess up here. He turned towards Chardonnay with the same smile on his face before they maintained direct eye contact and it fell. He was glad the presentation was over, because he’d forgotten how to speak. Again. God damn it. She went over to the podium and he took his seat, shaking his head as though he was annoyed at something. Which he was – himself. This was dumb. He was never going to see her again. So why did she continue to distract him? And why couldn’t he get the way her smile lit her face up out of his head, either? He tried to blame it on the sunbeams that had filtered in through the window at that moment. They were what lit up her face. Not the smile. Surely.

His own smile was long gone, replaced with a stoic expression as he unlocked his phone. He saw his recent contacts were only his sister at the top, and then Spoiled Princess right below. He should probably delete her number. Because they weren’t going to talk after this. No more getting locked together in gym closets – no more Amy trying to hook them up – no more projects – no more sexual tension.

The sounds of the class leaving were oddly loud. He took a deep breath as he opened his contacts folder and went to edit. His thumb hovered over the delete button, as he heard Chardonnay getting herself together beside him. He decided he could wait to delete her number until he got home, and closed his phone. He didn’t spare another glance at Chardonnay as he slung his bag over his shoulder and tugged on the knot of his tie, loosening the grip the fabric had on his neck. Suddenly he felt hot, suffocated almost, as the class dwindled down to just himself, Lockwood, a few people talking, and Chardonnay.

He stood up and glanced over at Chardonnay. It would be weird to leave without saying anything, right? But then again... it was them. So he just looked away from her with a shrug.

”Bye.” He said, before he turned to head to his car.

He graduated. It hadn’t been surprising when the final grades came in and Arthur’s lowest score was the class he’d had with Lockwood. Though he was disappointed to see a 3.3 as the final grade for the class, he was glad that their final project had gotten a 3.0. It made him breathe a little easier to know that he was still graduating with honors, despite the small dent in their grade. And, what was also significant, was that upon graduating Lockwood was the chair of the business department.

Prior to graduation, Susan distracted him from Chardonnay. She was obsessed with making sure his robes fit, and making sure that he had on his best clothes underneath the robe (Arthur saw no point there, but humored his sister anyway). Though he was proud of himself for graduating Arthur didn’t want to walk. That was all for his sister, who had bawled like a baby at his High School graduation, who wanted to see her baby brother graduate from college and hold his diploma in his hands. Arthur just found the whole process awkward, and sitting in a crowd outside in the sweltering sun for the whole ceremony (which, given how many students attended Metric, took hours) was agonizingly boring. Since his field was business he was one of the earlier people to go up and shake hands with the professors and Mr. Audet, and he swore when his name was called he heard his sister start wailing in the audience. That feeling was confirmed when, after the ceremony, Susan bolted from the stands with little Adelaide’s hand in hers and pulled him into a bone crushing hug he didn’t know her noodle arms had the strength for. Adelaide, almost 7 by that point, didn’t really understand why her mother was crying. But since the situation seemed happy she laughed at the sight. Every time Susan forced Adelaide and Arthur to pose for a picture, she burst out crying. That made a majority of the pictures contain Adelaide’s head thrown back in laughter. Contrasted to that was Arthur’s expression in the pictures -- some mix of embarrassment and genuine concern for Susan’s well-being. There were a few good ones, though. Susan asked one of the other teachers to take a picture of her and her brother, and then a picture of the three of them together. Though her eyes were red in the pictures, she was smiling, and so was Arthur. Those were her favorite pictures, and Susan already had about a million copies hanging around her apartment. Though flattered, Arthur was somewhat embarrassed she wouldn’t stop gushing about his new status as a graduate.

Of course, when he was sitting in the stands waiting for all the names to be called, his eyes scanned the graduation pamphlet and zeroed in on Chardonnay’s name, underneath the culinary students. He felt stupid, incredibly stupid, when she went up there after he did. Somehow she still looked attractive, even in that lump of a robe the entire class was forced to wear. Unfortunately Arthur was sitting next to one of the guys from the seminar, who had laughed when they went to go again. The guy nudged him, said some smart comment about them being an item, but Arthur ignored the guy and he lost interest. If they had never slept together he probably would have gotten sassy with the guy beside him, denied their affiliation with one another, and not clapped for her when she got her diploma. But now all he could think about was the way he’d just... left after the presentation. Bye.

Wow. Of all the things to say to her, all of the comments about their presentation or about her or about anything, really, the only thing that tumbled out of his mouth was ”bye”. It still amazed him that he could be so eloquent when he was presenting a project, or running the theater underneath his boss, but when it came to anything spontaneous or anything involving... involving sex, or feelings, or anything like that he just... became a puddle of awkward decisions. Especially since not only had they worked together on the project but they’d... they’d had sex. Was she pissed off at him? Was she annoyed at all?

He looked at her face as she took the diploma, shining in the sunlight. The head of the culinary department looked proud, as did the headmaster. She looked accomplished.

Who the fuck was he kidding? She never thought about him. She’d go off and marry a guy rich and sexy like Chad, or maybe she wouldn’t marry, maybe she’d just ruin her restaurant until she was old and grey. The next time they’d meet would be at a college reunion and it’d be awkward, because she’d have moved on, and he... he’d move on too. He’d be over it by then. Their squabbles, their fights... they were gone. He watched as Chardonnay walked off the stage, and told himself the pang he felt in his chest was just indigestion.

After he graduated, he’d been promoted to working full time underneath his boss. It was weird not to go to classes or consider himself a college student anymore, but he was getting more opportunities he’d missed because he had to go to class. He shadowed his boss, who let him take phone calls and file confidential paperwork for him. He and a few other employees with degrees in business were being considered for the promotion he’d practically dreamed about since he found out his boss was willing to keep him on the payroll permanently – as the assistant manager. Sure, the three of them were all in charge of the part timers at the moment, but the assistant manager was going to be the stand in for their boss. He was getting too frail to come in every day. He needed to do work at home, and have a few people in charge of his theater.

The whole profess was going to take a long time. Though Arthur knew he had the highest change of getting one of the two available positions (especially since he was the best at budgeting out of the three contenders), he wasn’t slacking off. Since the awkward morning with Chardonnay he hadn’t missed any shifts. His schedule was regular now – Mondays through Fridays, and then Saturday afternoons. If he could get the promotion, then his hours would alternate with the second assistant manager who was hired. They could cover for each other’s shifts, but most importantly, they could run the place. When they were at the theater, their word was only second to one another and the owner. And he’d be paid salary, instead of by the hour. Oh, fuck, he really wanted to make a salary rather than working by the hour (though now he made more the minimum wage, roughly 18 an hour).

Still, he could do better.

About a month had passed since he graduated. He’d never really made many friends in college aside from Maxine, and it was only then when he wasn’t surrounded by students every day that he realized this. No one who he passed on the street cared if he was Arthur – no one associated him with Lockwood’s class, or with Chardonnay. He appreciated it, but at the same time, it was kind of lonely. He kept himself entertained with his video games and his online friends but even they had other priorities to focus on. It wasn’t like he didn’t have other priorities, he did, but he also had plenty of free time. Often, Susan would come over with Adelaide and they’d watch TV or eat dinner together, but they always left. Without the routine of college outside of work, Arthur found himself forgetting to eat again. He’d leave without breakfast and by lunchtime all he wanted was a sandwich from the fridge. He’d come home and, unless his family was coming over, he’d just play games or watch anime until it was time for bed. His fridge was full of soda and cheap meals that didn’t take him long to make for those instances where he did actually remember to eat. There were occasionally leftovers from when Susan and Adelaide came over, but those never lasted more than a day.

It was when he went out to the little patio of his apartment to smoke a cigarette that he usually remembered Chardonnay, and how awkward it was that he was still... thinking about her. Of course she didn’t care about him anymore. He wanted her still – he tried to reason it was the sex. But it was oddly quiet, he thought, when he sat down on his couch or curled up in his bed.

On this particular Saturday night he was playing on his phone. He didn’t have work the next day, Sundays were his day off. He was planning to stay up late that night and watch a show. But for now he was de-stressing from a particularly bad day. It wasn’t his fault the popcorn machine malfunctioned but the customers seemed to think it so, especially when he was introduced as the person in charge. He’d tried to console the customers as best he could but it hadn’t worked. He had to call his boss up and get permission to order a whole new machine. Math was his forte, so he’d done the budget for the theater that month. That would put a huge dent in finances for a while. He was making matches on this stupid game, and his phone started to lag due to a text when he was about to make a five-in-a-row pair and made his choice glitch out, only getting a three-in-a-row pair instead. He growled under his breath, sure that the next was just his sister. After he lost his life, he closed the app and opened his messages...

And then dropped his phone onto the table in front of him in surprise. Spoiled Princess had texted him. He blinked. She... what? This had to be some kind of... chain message, right?

He opened the message, somewhat concerned with that he’d find. Was she going to cuss him out in a text now? Was it something... to do with the project? But that finished months ago. The message loaded and he felt his head stop.

Are you home? I think I left something there that I need...

What the fuck would she have left here?! He stared at the text for a few minutes. He checked the sender again. Nope, he hadn’t misread it – it was Chardonnay all right. Her... shoes? No, she always left in those. Her laptop? No, she took that. Notes? She was a graduate, what the fuck would she need her notes for!? He bit down on his lower lip. There wasn’t any chance in hell she actually wanted to come here for... him, was there?

No! Who the fuck was he kidding. This was Chardonnay. If anything, she wanted to make fun of him for still working at a theater while she was opening her own restaurant. He tried to ignore the nagging thought that yes, he had done a google search about her restaurant, just, you know, out of curiosity.

Yeah. What did you forget? He read it over three times before he hit send. And, once he did, he swore. She’d know he never deleted her number. He should have asked who it was! God, now she’d really be pissed at him for not deleting it. He groaned and took another drag of his cigarette as he stared at his message, waiting for a reply. He knew she lived a ways from Salem... so what would be so important for her to drive all the way down here for? Unless... she was in the neighborhood?

After one last drag he snuffed out the cigarette and entered his apartment again, phone in one hand, as he stared at the couch. He blinked a few times, remembering the first time they’d slept together, how it’d started on that thing. He shook his head and put his phone in his back pocket, trying to kid himself that he wasn’t actually waiting for the answer.

He was reaching in his fridge to grab a soda when his phone vibrated against his butt and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He put the can of Mountain Dew on the counter as he pulled the phone back out of his pocket and glanced at the message... from Spoiled Princess. He expected jabs, and laughter, or even getting punked. But her response was that she’d left makeup at his house... makeup? That wasn’t true, right? He’d been all over his bathroom and found nothing. His sister and niece had, too, and neither noticed anything. But maybe it was there, hidden behind the sink? He hadn’t been looking for anything of hers. He sent her a ‘whatever, princess’ text before he put his phone back on his counter and suddenly... became self-conscious about his appearance.

He was in the same button down he’d been wearing that day – plaid of course, forest green this time, tucked into a pair of blue jeans with a belt looped through the holes. Had he shaved? He brought a hand up to his jawline and ran his fingers over it. He always shaved every morning, so the skin was smooth, and he sighed of relief. The last thing he wanted was for Chardonnay to come over and think he was a mess, with 5 o’clock shadow. He glanced over at the couch, and blinked. His apartment was clean and relatively barren, still. He opened the can of soda and washed it down his throat. Then he remembered he’d been smoking a few minutes ago, and wondered if she’d be able to taste that if they wound up kissing. Did he have any tic tacs? He ransacked his drawers but unfortunately didn’t. He didn’t know if soda was much better tasting than cigarette smoke but that was all he had, so he chugged the drink. What did he taste like the first time they kissed? He knew what she tasted like – lip gloss, that he kept wanting to kiss, and then lipstick, which was... a weird taste, but her mouth was different and did it even have a taste? He knew he’d liked it, but...

Wait. What was he thinking about? She was there to find her makeup thing... what did it matter if he tasted weird? He shook his head and put the soda back on the counter and entered his bedroom. The bed was made as usual. He didn’t like to have pictures in his room so there weren’t any, there was just a phone charger plugged into the wall beside his bed, so that he could charge it at night while he slept. He didn’t have any mess hanging around... he disappeared into the bathroom and looked high and low but found nothing... not that he knew what he was looking for. He remembered that mirror compact thing Chardonnay had, and was picturing that... but something that big would stick out, right? He stood up straight and examined his face. He looked somewhat tired but that was how he always looked lately with the stress of trying to impress his boss and secure the position of assistant manager, and he didn’t find himself attractive at all. But then again, he never had before. He didn’t know why it bothered him now.

He went back into his room and, before he could stop himself, popped open the drawer and saw the box of condoms still there. He’d only used the two from the first and second times he’d had sex, he hadn’t touched the box since. He swallowed, wondering if he was going to use them again.

He practically slammed the drawer shut when he heard a knock on the door. Nope. Fuck. How long had he been here staring at his drawer for? He composed himself and walked into his kitchen. He grabbed the phone off of the counter before he opened the door and saw... her. The sun was setting somewhere behind her and he blinked.

”I looked in my bathroom, but didn’t find anything.” He said, stepping aside so she could come in. He was reminded of the last time she’d come over, yelling at him, when he’d pulled her in for a kiss that had led into sex. He remembered pinning her to the wall and feeling her legs wrap around his waist, and grinding their hips together, and he looked away from her to distract himself from his thoughts by staring at his phone and pretending to be interested in his lock screen, which was a screenshot from some anime he was watching. ”...if it’s that important to you why didn’t you remember it when you left last time?”

Or weeks ago... but whatever. Arthur may have been complaining, but he was actually glad to see her on his doorstep again.

It was awkward when he opened the door and she stared over at him. He was waiting for her to shove him aside angrily and snap at him, telling him to get out of her way and that he just didn’t know where he was looking. She’d take over and probably make his place a mess in looking for the thing. And then he’d have to clean it and afterwards she’d criticize his place for being messy. He could never impress her. She was probably just trying to choose the best insult to spew at him, and Arthur waited with his brows raised, bracing himself for her angry commentary. The longer she stayed the weirder it got, the more... unusual she looked. He could see her expression, and slowly slipped his phone back into his back pocket, watching the way her eyes shook as she took in his face. His eyes trailed down her body, and were drawn to her lips when she bit her lower lip. The sight was enticing, and he wanted to kiss her. He knew he did and if she didn’t move and go raid his apartment for the damn thing soon he was going to cave, he was going to...

She entered the apartment but she wasn’t focused on finding her makeup – he felt her arms wrap around his neck. The way she was looking at him caused his heart to skip a beat and he knew she was going to pull him in for a kiss – and she did.

He kissed her back without much hesitation. If she lied to him to get over here, he didn’t care. He didn’t care if she actually lost her makeup or if this had just been some excuse to get down here, to touch him, to have sex with him. If it was some excuse he was glad she made it because when their lips connected he realized how much he’d missed this. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer and groaned when he remembered how good it felt to have her body pressed against his. He never thought she’d come here again, but here she was, she wasn’t going away and she wanted him and he knew that this time, neither of them was forced to be here.

When she pulled away from the kiss he stared over at her, not even sure what to expect from her lips. Her comment was one he was used to from her. How many times had they said they hated each other before this? It was impossible to count. He didn’t have long to stare at her because she connected their lips again and his kisses got more aggressive as he reached behind her and shut the door, stepping forward in the process, pushing her body up against it. He stepped between her legs and slid his hands down from her waist to her thighs, pushing their lower halves together. He broke for air and their foreheads were pressed together, his eyes already beginning to darken. Oh, fuck, he forgot how good it felt to touch her. And to be touched like this. ”feeling’s mutual, princess,” he said, before he connected their lips again and slid one of his hands up her shirt, feeling her warm skin underneath his cool fingertips. He wanted to trail his lips down her skin rather than his fingers, and though he was currently enticed by his mouth he remembered the way she’d sounded and squeaked when his lips weren’t on hers to mute the noise, and he wanted to hear those sounds again.

It hadn’t taken long for him to get her clothes off of her and for them to stumble back towards his room, still kissing each other, still touching each other. He was pretty sure he knew what to expect when she threw him onto his bed again and started to kiss his neck, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he had to go into his drawer to get the box of condoms but he was too distracted by the sight of her above him, clothed in only her underwear, when she pulled away and smirked and holy fuck she was hot, he felt his breath catching in his throat as she trailed her hands down his body and started to fumble with his jeans, undoing them. He was relieved because they were pretty tight as it was, not quite skinny but not loose fitting either, which meant that paired with the arousal he felt, they were starting to get painful.

Speaking of painful, though, did she have to tug his pants down so hard? Ow! He might have complained if he didn’t see the expression on her face, her brows twitching in confusion as she looked at him. And then she laughed and he felt his heart sink. In that moment his fears came back. This was just a setup, she’d come over here to see if he still wanted to do this and she was going to humiliate him now. She was going to damage his pride by saying that he wanted her, and that she could seduce him if she wanted. Or maybe he just wasn’t good enough for her anymore. Maybe the first two times they’d been together had been bad and she was just now thinking that this time was going to be just like those times. He didn’t think it’d been bad, but what did he know?! He was a virgin before he slept with her, he... he didn’t know if she’d slept with anyone since him, to get more of a grasp on the experience? Maybe that was it? Because why would Chardonnay stoop so low as to come back to him if she’d found someone better? The only reason, he could think, was to humiliate him.

If the sound of her laughter wasn’t enough to kill his arousal, those thoughts were, as he propped himself up to his elbows and shimmied away. He glanced at her hysterical face in irritation and slight hurt, his expression squirming. This was so humiliating. If she was going to leave, why wasn’t she just leaving? But then she said the word and it clicked. Plaid. He remembered putting on plaid boxers this morning. She was laughing because he was wearing plaid.

His face went scarlet for an entirely different reason.

”Plaid is one of the most common colors for boxers! Of course I own some!” He snapped in defense. It wasn’t like Chardonnay had much experience with boxers, right? Of course he had plaid boxers! God, he could feel his face, it was going to melt off. He glared at Chardonnay because how the fuck could she ruin the mood over this?! Though he was happy that she wasn’t laughing at the situation, or, or at him, well yes, it was at him but not... not like he first thought. It was at his fashion, not something else. And he’d never been a fashion guru. But, still, he was pissed. ”I wasn’t exactly planning on anyone but me seeing them today! Jesus fucking Christ! And who coordinates their shirt color with their boxers?! How fucking dumb would someone be to – to do that?!”

Oh, God, he couldn’t look at her face. And since she was still straddling him, he couldn’t get to the covers underneath them. So he grabbed a pillow and hid his face in it. If he hid behind the pillow she couldn’t see him anymore. Sound logic, right? He groaned into it, embarrassed, as mumbled swears tumbled out of his mouth. The pillow muffled the sounds.

He was still mortified that she’d called him out on wearing plaid boxers. What the hell was so funny about that that warranted her... her just laughing so hysterically? He didn’t see why she disliked plaid. It was a practical pattern, cheap at the store, and wasn’t blindingly boring like the other options he had. Or plain. It was just... regular, simple, and a lot of people wore it besides him. He evens aw some models or fashion catalogues with plaid! Not that he actually paid much mind to those catalogues, or models, but still. He heard her sigh over him and felt her hands rest on his stomach. He wasn’t aroused anymore, so it felt weird for her to still be touching him. It wasn’t unpleasant, and it made the skin on his stomach tingle, but it was still... odd. He was rarely touched by anyone other than himself, especially there, and especially on his bare skin. He continued to blush something fierce as he didn’t remove the pillow from his face. He was lying down now, and in response to her dismissal of the pattern plaid, he groaned.

For some reason, the mention of her bra and panties matching made him blush even more because not only of how stupid he felt but also at the fact that she was currently wearing those, and he’d seen her in those and without those, and he was beginning to think even his neck was turning red. God. He hated being so prone to blushing. She was going to make fun of him not only for the plaid, but for this, too.

”No! I don’t bother to match my boxers with my shirts! What the fuck?! I’m not obsessed with fashion like you are! Why the fuck is that the only thing you care about right now!? You didn’t care last time!” Actually, he didn’t remember if the boxers were plaid. He remembered that the sex happened, and he remembered every minute of it, but the underwear? Well, he was really only focused on her underwear, which... he was unfortunate to remember she was right – they’d matched. His voice was still muffled by the pillow. ”I’m ruining the moment?! You’re the one who just started laughing at me in the middle of – of – Jesus fucking Christ, leave me alone,” he felt oddly satisfied when she said he should have expected this when he came over, like this was a regular thing they did, and so before he could think about it, he groaned again. ”Fine. Next time I’ll wear ones that aren’t plaid, Princess.”

Wait. Next time? Who the hell said anything about a next time? She came over here for the makeup thing, to... to find it, not find his bed! And after this, why the fuck would she even want to sleep with him again? Again, he groaned, and slowly moved the pillow away from his face and stared up at Chardonnay.

The reminder of the last time they’d slept together made him remember what it’d been like, when she was yelling at him, pissed off, and he was pissed off too, but then he just leaned down and kissed her and why had he done that? Clearly it was to pull her into bed again – it’d worked, she kissed him back, she wrapped her legs around his waist and they fucked again, and had he been wearing plaid then? Maybe? He didn’t remember. He remembered picking up his boxers the next morning to throw them into his laundry, but now he was really curious. He was glad she was distracted then and had only just noticed his boxers now – if she’d laughed at him the second time or, god forbid the first time, he wouldn’t have been able to function properly afterwards. If she’d just laughed at him and left how would they have gotten through their presentation? It was hard enough with the fact they’d had sex, period... but if they’d almost had sex, but stopped?

He was propped up on his elbows now as he looked at her, his breath coming in more even intervals. His cheeks were still pink but less obnoxious, and the pillow he’d used to shield his face was beside his arm, forgotten. Her smirk and confident pose made him blink a few times, not wanting to admit that it enticed him when she looked at him like that. While he was annoyed that she looked so in control of herself and the situation now, his eyes widened when she agreed to what he said, which meant that them hooking up... there would be a next time. She wanted a next time. He swallowed as she prodded his stomach (which caused his muscles to twitch slightly in irritation).

”I don’t get why you hate plaid so much, but you’re not coming anywhere near me with a match.” He spat, trying to ignore how cold he felt without her on top of him. He wanted to pull her back and try again, but he knew that wouldn’t end well. He wasn’t feeling confident or sexy anymore – not that he usually did – but every time he imagined them having sex right now it just ended with Chardonnay laughing at how desperate he was so he rolled his eyes and threw his legs over the opposite side of the bed, making a dive for his pajamas. He threw them onto his bed and grabbed the pants, hiking them up over his boxers (which made him frown at the still very fresh memory). He didn’t get why she hated plaid so much. It was just a fabric.

He turned back towards Chardonnay. She was still in her underwear and bra, and part of him wished he’d gotten the bra off before she went for his boxers. But then again, if that was the case, he’d be even more distracted than he was now. And he couldn’t have sex again now, even if his brain told him he wanted to – he was still flustered about her laugh. He watched as she tossed her hair over her shoulder, and then she started sprouting out... demands.

Normally he’d just roll her eyes at what she said, but that was exactly what he’d been thinking about earlier. The cigarette smoke was detectable on his breath, then? But she’d still kissed him, hadn’t she? He felt accomplished at that – that hadn’t been as much of a turn off as plaid was, apparently – but her second demand made him furrow his brows. Was he thinner? He didn’t think he was. He prodded his own stomach. He couldn’t see his ribs, right?

”Well unless we’re going to determine a strict schedule of when you’re coming over, I won’t exactly know when I can and can’t smoke.” he said. Or he could quit altogether, but he didn’t want to do that. He wasn’t going to quit – he didn’t smoke that much, one cigarette a day was fine. ”...and I eat! I just don’t remember to half of the time! I’m not that skinny,” though he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about that now. Chardonnay’s figure was curvy, and well maybe it wasn’t perfect to everyone but he couldn’t think of any other way to describe it, and he... he pulled his legs up onto the bed and looked over at Chardonnay, eyes narrowed. God, she was so demanding, though. Even when they were sleeping together she was so bossy, he realized. He wasn’t surprised, and maybe in the bed he found it hot but when he had to listen to her complain without getting any pleasure out of it... he rubbed his forehead. ”my bed is fine. I can sleep on it fine! It’s not a thousand dollars, but it’s a mattress and – God, I’m sorry my apartment isn’t some five star hotel! You’re under no obligation to sleep in my bed, y’know, if you want to leave after, you don't seem like you have that much of a problem with it when we're... uh.”

He looked over at her, ignoring the bitter feeling imagining her leaving every night after sex gave him. His eyes bounced away from her face and down to her chest. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to put on a shirt or to stay like that. The view was nice, but also... distracting.

He was too distracted by the skin of her chest to realize she was at all self-conscious; besides, for what reason on earth would she even be self-conscious around him? He didn’t matter to her, and he knew it. He was just someone who she had sexual tension with and now... now they were... fuck buddies? Was that the best way to describe it? He saw the skin of her stomach move and wanted to reach over and touch it again, and run his fingers across it, and the thought sent a tingling through his fingertips. He was already thinking about doing that when she spoke up again and he regained his senses. He’d already put on pants. No sex tonight.

”Plaid isn’t just for hicks, just like lace isn’t just for ball gowns.” He rolled his eyes but they found Chardonnay’s backside as she got up. His annoyance dissipated as he watched her sway her hips and move towards his doorway, where she grabbed her skirt and hiked it up to her waist. It was kind of a pity, because he remembered how excited he’d been to get the skirt off of her, to feel the skin of her crotch against his, and he swallowed, turning away, trying to forget the sounds they’d both made at the feeling that started to play back in his head at the memory. It was pretty easy to forget them when she turned around and started to talk again. Her comment about stopping smoking killed the buzz he’d been beginning to feel. Something in his mind darkened with guilt. He could quit. He should quit. But he didn’t want to, and he could, if he really wanted to. He just didn’t need to. He looked away from her. If Susan couldn’t make him want to quit, then no one could.

”I’ve been smoking for years, I haven’t hacked up a lung yet. I don’t smoke that much.” He rolled his eyes at the rest of her response, trying to act as though the words she said hadn’t bothered him. And they hadn’t! That was what he wanted, too. He didn’t want to date her. She treated him like shit and he wasn’t an angel to her, either. If he did find someone to date someday, he could just tell Chardonnay the sex was over. And then they’d never deal with each other again. He wondered if she intended on finding other guys to sleep with, besides him. He bit his lower lip. If she wanted to, she’d have no problem finding other guys. But that wasn’t his business. He ignored the lingering image of her underneath some other guy, moaning for him, and how sick it made him feel. He was probably just too concerned she’d dump him for someone else if the sex was better – she was his first and only, and maybe he was getting too attached to that? He took a deep breath. Back to reality.

”All right. Well, I guess it’s good we kept each other’s numbers. I can’t promise I won’t have smoked that day, though.” He’d buy some tic-tacs at the store tomorrow. He glanced at her disheveled appearance when she returned from finding her shirt, noting the way she crossed her arms over her chest. He almost laughed, because she looked just as uptight as he remembered – except she was in his room, clothes wrinkled, after a failed attempt at sex. As awkward as he found the statement, too, the blush that crossed her face when he successfully called her out as having enjoyed the sex despite his shitty bed caused him to smirk over at her in amusement instead of answering her question, confidence slowly returning. Though the smirk turned into a look of confusion as she asked about a mattress pad, something he’d... never heard of? ”...what the hell’s a mattress pad? I mean, I have an extra comforter in my closet?”