"Erm, hello? I think we've met but I never caught your name. I'm Arthur. Is Abril here?"

"Hi, Arthur. I'm Sigrid," she said in a cheerful tone that could only mean she was up to no good. She held out her hand and he shook it once, briefly but with intent, like a true businessman. "And yes, Abby is just over here, come in."

She moved away from the doorframe and let him in. When his eyes landed on me, his stern face warmed up a little, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Hello, Abril."

"Hello, Arthur."

Behind him, Sigrid was making kissy faces and made heart shapes with her fingers. I rolled my eyes at her and ignored her.

It only occurred to me then that Dullac being in my flat was not a common sight. It was quite bizarre, actually.

"What are you doing here?" I asked abruptly, which was a bit rude. That was no way to welcome somebody into one's house.

My rudeness made him chuckle a little. I guess he was used to it.

He brought a hand to his hair and ran it through, embarrassed to be put on the spot. How could he justify being in his employee's flat on a Sunday evening without sounding like a creep?

"I... I just came back from New York a couple hours ago and I thought I'd check on you. I've been a bit worried since your... incident on Thursday. I wanted to know if you were okay."

A few expressions showed up on my face, I'm sure. The first one was panic, I hadn't told Sig about that yet and I didn't want her to worry unnecessarily. Which is exactly what she was doing. She interrogated me from behind Arthur's shoulder and I let her know with a pointed look that I would let her know about it later. Arthur read the panic and immediately understood that he should not develop further on that matter as long as we had an audience.

The second one was bewilderment. It was awfully unprofessional for a – former – boss to check on their employee at their house, on a non-working day, at night. And Arthur was nothing if not professional.

And the third one was endearment. He had come all this way right after his flight back from New York, despite the tiredness and the jet lag. How sweet. And the fact that he invoked my well-being as an excuse to come and see me was adorable.

"That's... very nice of you, thank you," I said.

"Of course."

We locked eyes and did not say anything more for a few seconds. What were we supposed to say? We were not friends or anything, what does one say to their former boss who rejected them, when said boss shows up uninvited after a week-long trip? Surely there's no etiquette book rule for this kind of situation.

"Don't just stay here," Sigrid said to him, thus rendering the question of what to tell him myself moot. "Sit down with us!"

She passed him and joined me in the seating area of my one-room flat. She did not sit on the couch, like she had before the doorbell rang, but on the chair next to it, leaving the spot next to me free.

Real subtle, Sigrid!

"I don't want to intrude, I thought Abril would be alone. I'll come back another time."

I found myself disappointed that he was leaving already. Then I made a mental note of punching Cedric the next time I saw him for putting weird ideas into my head.

Get your shit together, Abs!

"Nonsense," Sigrid told Arthur. "You're not intruding at all. We were just about to order sushi. In fact, we should have done that a while ago but we got distracted. You want to join us on the order?"

Arthur ran his hand through his hair once more. He was uncomfortable, and maybe indecisive. Did he even like sushi?

"Are you sure?" He asked. "I really don't want to make you change your original plans."

"Don't worry about it, we had no plans. Just chilling on this couch and eating sushi. Which we could do just as well with you joining us."

His eyes switched from Sigrid to me. They were questioning, asking for my blessing. I didn't know what to say. On the one hand, I kind of wanted him to stay, I was curious to see where that would go. On the other hand, that was extremely awkward.

"Abril?" He eventually voiced his question.

"Yes, you should stay. The more, the merrier," I ended up saying.

"All right. Then I'll stay."

He hung his jacket on one of my dining table chairs – yes I had a dining table that I rarely used in this shoebox of a flat – and took a seat next to me, on the couch.

A whiff of his cologne tickled my nostrils, something subtle and fresh that could pass for a feminine perfume, and I scanned his appearance. His hair was clean and combed back, his skin fresh, and he was wearing spotless navy blue chinos with a wrinkle-free white shirt, his tortoiseshell spectacles perched on his nose as always. He had not taken the plane in these clothes. He had showered and changed before coming here. I wasn't sure what to do with this piece of information.

Sigrid took out her phone and opened the delivery app. She clicked on our usual sushi place and asked Arthur what he wanted.

"Do you mind if we order from another place? I prefer my sushi to be a bit more authentic."

She nodded and gave him her phone for him to search for the restaurant he wanted. When he couldn't find it, he took out his own phone to go on the restaurant's webpage, then he instructed us to browse the menu and let him know what we wanted.

Sigrid and I exchanged an embarrassed look.

"Erm, Arthur?" She tentatively said. "This restaurant looks great but it's totally outside of our budget."

"Don't worry about it. It's my treat."

I was opening my mouth to vehemently reject the offer, but Sigrid cut me off.

"That's very generous of you. Thank you."

"But—"

"Abs, it's fine," Sigrid stopped me from arguing then turned her attention to Arthur. "Don't mind her, she just has a hard time accepting that people buy her stuff."

That made Arthur laugh and Sigrid laughed with him. Since when was I the person that got shut up and talked over?

Arthur gave me his phone and I made a list of what I wanted, trying very hard not to order less than what I wanted just because I felt bad that he was paying, and trying even harder not to start the argument again when I saw how much my total was. Sigrid did the same, then Arthur made the phone call to the sushi place.

The deliveryman came to my place forty-five minutes later. Arthur gave him an ungodly amount of cash and tipped him generously.

While I was fiddling with my chopsticks, I couldn't help but notice that Arthur was using his with as much ease as he would have used a fork and a knife.

"Do you order Asian food a lot?" I asked, curious. He did not strike me as somebody who was a regular at ordering takeout. "Your technique with the chopsticks is perfect."

"No, I usually cook. But I did semester abroad in Japan when I was in college, that's how I perfected my technique. And how I developed a taste for better quality sushi."

That was news. Well, everything about his life was news, really. I didn't know the guy.

I took a bite off my first nigiri and, I had to admit, this was ten times better than the sushi Sig and I were used to ordering. For a moment, I almost feared that this would ruin all other sushi for me.

"So, Sigrid, right?" Arthur made conversation. "Is that Swedish?"

"Icelandic, actually."

He nodded appreciatively. Sigrid's birth country always had this effect on people. It was so cool, to be fair. I dreamt of one day having enough money to go on a trip there with her.

"Right. And what do you do for a living?"

"Oh!" I exclaimed, in an epiphany kind of way. "Remember that friend I have who's working at Müller, Bennett & Doyle? That's her, that's Sigrid."

"Aw," she cooed, "you talked about me?"

"Of course!"

"She sold you quite well, might I add," Arthur chimed in. "From what I gathered you're MBD's new recruit?"

"Affirmative."

"My father's company is having a bit of a situation. We're not too worried about it but it never hurts to cover all bases. Would it be rude of me to give you my card now and we can schedule a meeting to talk about it later?"

"Oh wow, yes, no, of course I'll take your card. You work for VDO's, right? That's a huge name, it could give me such a step up in the firm!" She cleared her throat and suddenly took up a more professional stance. "Yes please, I'll take your card and will email you tomorrow to arrange a meeting."

Arthur slightly shook his head, endeared by Sigrid's enthusiasm. Why was he endeared by her enthusiasm but annoyed by mine?

"I look forward to receiving your email, and I'm glad to be of service." He reached out for his wallet and fished out his professional card out of it. He gave it to Sigrid, who was trying as hard as she could to hide her excitement. "You should thank Abril, she's the one who suggested we collaborate."

They shook hands and I felt my heart sting a little. Sigrid was a professional lawyer, Arthur was a professional finance something, and I was... a professional saleswoman?

I used to be ambitious when I was in college. I had dreams of getting a PhD and working for NASA. All those dreams had obviously shattered to pieces when I had dropped out of Caltech. I did not regret my decision per se, it had been the best thing for me to do at the time, when I had realized there were more important things in life than studies and a degree. But on days like that one, where I was the only one without a college degree in the room, I sure wished I had completed my education.

I brushed off those feelings for the time being and drew my attention back to our peculiar trio. I realized that Arthur's knee was touching mine while we were eating, but he didn't seem to mind.

Once we finished our meal, Arthur stood up and went for his jacket.

"I'm going to wish you ladies a good night. I'm sorry I interrupted and I'll leave you two be."

While I was identifying the slight tug in my stomach as disappointment, Sigrid had already jumped to her feet and was putting her own jacket on.

"Don't be silly," she called after him and he stopped in his tracks. "I'm the one who's leaving, you came all the way here to see Abby and you didn't get to do that. Stay, I'll leave."

"No, no! You don't have to, really. I'll come back tomorrow, I took the day off."

"You're not working tomorrow? What a coincidence, neither is Abs. Which means you both have plenty of time to catch up right now, while I go get some sleep to be in good shape for work. I won't be any good if I am sleep-deprived."

"Are you sure? I don't want to chase you away."

"I am, and you're not."

For the second time that night, he looked at me and asked for my approval.

"Abril?"

"Yes, that'd be nice if you stayed a bit longer."

He didn't say anything and, with a smile, came back to sit on the couch next to me. Sigrid gave me a brief hug and left my apartment, not without shooting me a glance that was a mixture of 'do not screw this up' and 'you will tell me all the details later.'

An uncomfortable silence fell upon Arthur and me. I felt like we were two shy teenagers on their first date. Why did we have to be so cringey?

"So... You're back from New York," I stated in order to break the ice.

Finely observed, Abs! Real smooth talking.

"Yes. My plane landed in the late afternoon."

That was going to be painful.

"How was it? New York, I mean, not the plane."

"It was nice. I had a lot of meetings, obviously, but I managed to squeeze in some sightseeing. Look."

He took out his phone and showed me one of the recent pictures on his camera roll. It was a breathtaking view of NYC at sunset, taken from very high up; the only place it could have been taken was––

"Aw! You went to the Empire State Building in the end!"

"I sure did. It was a struggle since I don't do well with heights, but it was worth it, I guess? The view was nice, and I thought you'd enjoy the pictures. Have you ever been?"

He had a fear of heights. And he had climbed one of the highest buildings in NYC to take a picture of the view and show it to me. What was I supposed to do with that?

"You are afraid of heights and you work on the fifty-fifth floor?"

"Well, you're claustrophobic and you live in a shoebox..."

Touché.

I laughed at his brilliant comeback

"I guess you have a point. And no, I've never been to New York City, let alone to the Empire State Building."

"Oh. Then maybe I should have taken you on that trip. You would have enjoyed it."

Since when was Arthur all cute and lovey dovey? Where was the dickhead I'd met a few weeks ago? That was not what he had gotten me used to.

"With you as my traveling buddy?" I snorted. "No, I wouldn't!"

He laughed. Then there was another awkward silence.

I suddenly became aware of how close to me Arthur was, much closer than earlier, when we were eating. His whole side body was touching mine, although there was plenty of space on the couch to allow for us not to touch. For somebody so averse to physical contact, he looked quite comfortable. And for somebody allegedly so averse to him, I was not pulling away. If anything, I was leaning into the contact.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

I jerked away and straightened up. Was that too much?

"Yes, I'm all right."

Unconsciously – I think – he leaned closer to me.

"No, I mean, are you really okay? After, you know, the phone call we had the other day. How have you been feeling? Have you had another episode?"

Oh, that's what he meant. Of course he would ask about that. He was too polite not to.

"Yes, I mean no, I haven't had another episode. And yes, I'm okay."

"Do you want to talk about it, maybe?"

"Not really," I replied.

"Oh." He looked disappointed.

When the awkward silence occupied the room once more, I felt terrible. He was trying his best to be friendly, and I was shutting him out. It didn't feel like he was prying, it felt like he was genuinely concerned. But was I really ready to share some of the most shameful facets of my mind with a man I had been on amicable terms for what? A week? Absolutely not. That was too fast, too much, too soon.

Yet I felt compelled to try my best to remove the frown out of his face. So I spoke. A bit.

"It's stupid, really." His face lit up when he saw me confide in him. His faint smile seemed to warm up my whole body. Fuck! "It's just that I used to be an insecure kid. I wasn't born confident and sassy, that's a skill I learned growing up. But sometimes my past insecurities catch up on me and make me question my whole life."

I conveniently left out all my other issues that were not due to insecurities but to a whole other kind of trauma.

Arthur nodded his head.

"Do you have triggers? Are there any subjects that we should avoid, going forward? I would like to do everything I can to stop you getting in that state ever again."

Again, where was the uptight, self-righteous asshole? That was the sweetest, nicest, most understanding thing someone had ever said to me about this issue. Most people would just say 'Oh, but you have nothing to be insecure about, blah blah blah.' They meant well, but they were so far off. Arthur got it, though.

"I'm not sure. If I have any, I haven't identified them yet."

That wasn't totally true. Speaking – or thinking – about Josh was my number one trigger, and the only one that I had identified. Not that it had been hard to identify in the first place. Most of the time, I could ignore the nagging, but some days I just couldn't.

"I see. It helps to try and find patterns. What triggered you that time when I called you?"

And just like that, I snapped like an elastic band that had been stretched too far. What the fuck was I doing sharing very intimate details of my life with a person I barely knew? What if he started using my weaknesses against me?

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," I said curtly.

I scooted away from him, breaking all physical contact. He didn't try to get closer.

He bowed his head, defeated. There was no point trying to get anything out of me anymore, and he knew that. He raised a hand towards me, probably to stroke my shoulder or give me a soft pat on the back. I flinched so dramatically before he even touched me that he didn't dare put his hand on me and aborted the mission immediately.

He sighed loudly, getting impatient but trying not to be. That was getting too uncomfortable. Hell, we were past uncomfortable, it was outright torture. I needed a drink.

I dug out a bottle of Walmart's 'finest' red wine from my cupboard and poured myself a copious amount. I took out a second glass for Arthur.

"Do you want some wine?" I offered.

"I can't. I'm driving."

"Oh." Yes, oh. What now? And please don't be stupid. "Do you want to stay over? You're not working tomorrow either, right?"

So we're going for stupid, huh?

Arthur looked at me and I could almost hear his thoughts. He was seriously debating my dumb proposition. If he knew what was best for him, he would refuse.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he eventually replied.

Smart man.

I sipped on my wine as I was trying to conceal my disappointment.

"Don't look at me like that!" He said.

Okay, I wasn't concealing much, I guess.

"You know," Arthur kept on talking, except that his voice was louder, stripped of the layer of niceness it had been since he'd entered my flat, "I'm having trouble understanding you, Abril. What do you want from me?"

Good question. Sex, I guess? Although it's not like I couldn't get it from other people who were way less complicated to put in my bed. What did I want?

"I thought you wanted... me?"

I choked. "Pardon?"

"I'm sorry, did I imagine the several instances where you offered to have sex with me?"

Sweet, considerate Arthur was gone. We were navigating in more familiar territories, now.

"Wanting you and wanting sex from you are two different things, though!"

"Yeah, I sure figured that one out," he said, his voice full of venom.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Silence. Then an answer that I wished I'd never had to listen to.

"I had an interesting phone call from Valentine, while I was in New York."

Oh God. Please stop here. Do not say another word.

"He was going on and on about my 'hot assistant' and the 'mind-blowing sex' they had, does that ring a bell?"

I wasn't often mortified, I was quite the shameless person. But at that specific moment, I would have paid a lot of money I didn't have just to disappear into thin air.

On a more positive note, at least Val had enjoyed the sex as much as I had.

"So tell me, Abril, what on Earth I am supposed to do with you."

I could feel the embarrassment creep throughout my entire body. I could feel my cheek burn and my throat tighten. An unpleasant shiver ran from the bottom to the top of my spine, and my body wanted to curl up and make itself as small as possible.

What was I even embarrassed about? It's not like my long list of sexual partners was a secret to anyone. I was quite proud of it, actually.

When I finally got the guts to look Arthur in the eye, he was defying me. He was definitely mad. I held his stare, but none of us spoke. That was the night of heavy silences.

"All right. I'm going to go."

"No!" I cried out before I even registered what he'd just said.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated.

"If you want me to stay, I'm going to need you to say something!"

"Okay, then." It seemed like I was finally able to speak more than a few words at a time. "Why don't you tell me what you want? You rejected me what? Twice? Three times maybe? What do you expect? That I remain chaste and do not dare look at another man until you deign showing interest?"

It was his turn to be speechless. Two could play the game of calling the other out. I sure wasn't perfect, but neither was he.

"I—I don't—" He stuttered.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Frustrated, he groaned. He grabbed the bottle of wine that was still on the coffee table and poured himself a hefty amount in the empty glass I had left there. He drank a long swig. Then another.

"Sorry I—I really needed a drink. I'll just take a cab home."

"The offer to stay here is still on," I heard myself say.

He sighed.

"Abril, I feel like it's important that I voice this. I can't do casual sex. It's not for me."

At least that was clear, for once.

"Why not?"

"Because I value emotional attachment more than physical intimacy. I do not wish to have the latter without the former."

"It seems that we're in a bit of a dead-end, then. See, I only do casual, I don't date."

"Why not?"

"Because I refuse to create any emotional attachment."

What the hell was wrong with me and why had I just shared one of my most private thoughts with him?

"Why?"

"Personal reasons."

"I see."

He finished his glass of wine and stood up. He extended his arms, palms up, in front of me.

"Come on, stand up."

I gave him a questioning look but he only gestured impatiently for me to get off the couch. So I took his hands to help me up and did as he asked.

He let go of my hands once I was facing him.

"I'm going to try something," he explained, "but please stop me at any point if you're feeling uncomfortable. Okay?"

I nodded.

"Just try to keep an open mind," he added.

Slowly, but deliberately, he wrapped one arm around my lower back, the other arm around my shoulders, and he pulled me into his chest. He lodged my face in the crook of his neck and let his head rest on top of mine. We were immobile, except for a slight sway.

I was tense, to stay the least. My arms were straight against the sides of my body and I was holding my breath. He did not let go, though. He pulled me closer. And when a scent made of a mix of his cologne, his soap, and his laundry detergent filled my nose, I melted in his arms. I wrapped my own arms around his body, I closed my eyes, and I let go.

We stayed like that for a few minutes. This awkward hug was holding me together more than I could imagine. It felt... safe. If he was uncomfortable – which I'm sure he was – he didn't show any sign of it. He never broke the hug and waited for me to do it.

When I eventually released him and took a step back, I looked up at him.

"I thought you didn't like hugs."

He'd said he disliked any kind of physical touch, and hugs had a lot of it.

"I don't," he confirmed.

"Then why did you hug me?"

"You looked like you needed it."

Oh. Wow.

"Well, thank you. It was... It was a good hug."

The fact that he had hugged me despite his aversion to touching people... I wasn't sure I could cope with that. This was way too sweet for me.

I poured two more glasses of wine and took my seat back on the couch. Arthur joined me, the space between us reduced to nothing.

I drank, he drank.

Then he opened his stupid mouth to make a stupid request.

"Go on a date with me."

I choked on my wine but that did not faze him.

"I'm serious, just do it."

"I told you," I said once I stopped coughing. "I don't date."

"I'm not asking you to date me, I'm asking you to go on a date with me."

"Is that different?

"Very much so. I'm not asking you to commit to being my partner. I'm asking you to commit to having one dinner with me, without anybody else. Can you do that?"

"I don't know... I don't think it's a good idea."

Correction: it was the worst idea.

"Please, Abril. Let's do something simple. My house, Saturday, seven p.m. I'll cook you a nice dinner, and you can wear whatever you want, I mean it. Feel free to show up in sweats or in a neon green dress, anything is fine. You can bring a swimsuit, too." He blushed adorably. "Well, you don't have to, of course, but I have a pool and we could have a swim if you want to. It's up to you. But please, Abril, say yes."

And because I was a sucker for swimming pools, I caved.

"Okay."

He gasped. Clearly, he thought his invitation was a long shot. "Really?"

"Yes," I confirmed.

The smile on his face after that was the brightest I had ever seen on him so far. He had a cheeky smile that made him look so much younger. And dimples. When his smile was strong and sincere, the cutest dimples peaked through. For one second, one could have forgotten that he was this uptight snobby man, old beyond his years. For one second, he was just a carefree young man, trying to get the girl.

We sat down and he casually – well, as casually as he could – rested his arm on my shoulders. I didn't push him away. I removed my shoes, tucked my feet under my butt, and leaned closer to him. He cast a disapproving look on my slightly unconventional sitting position but did not comment on it. I was grateful for that. He handed me my glass of wine and took his. We ended up drinking the whole bottle, both knowing very well that meant that Arthur would not be driving his car home.

We talked a lot that night. Not about meaningful stuff anymore, like my past and my neuroses, nor his, but about meaningless stuff, like his favorite color – black, unsurprisingly – or my favorite place in LA – the Griffith Observatory.

* * *

I woke up in a daze, not really hungover but not fully fresh either. My back was hurting, which could be easily explained by the fact that I had been sleeping on my couch, not on my bed. I looked around, trying to piece together the memories from the night before. My eyes found a piece of paper tucked under a glass of water. I drank the water and read the note.

Dear Abril

You fell asleep on my shoulder last night. I didn't want to wake you, so I laid you down and scavenged your apartment for a blanket. I couldn't find one so I took the duvet from your bed. I hope that's okay, and I hope your back is not hurting too much when you read this.

I took a cab home. Don't worry, I didn't drive. I'll come pick up my car tomorrow – well, later today, I guess, it's long past midnight.

I had a lovely time with you and I look forward to seeing you on Saturday.

Best,

Arthur.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A/N: Wholesome content for once 😍

Don't forget to vote and comment please! Next chapter on Friday.

Love,
Charlie.