iâve been so long this probably means nothing but georgeâs use of AIâŚ.
FUCK THAT.
FUCK AI. fuck all of anyone using.
as much as iâve been inactive (writing my dissertation) itâs VILE
i want to love these blokes cause iâm 21 and i have been UKYT since i was 11 but,,, GOD they make it hard
anyway beyond all of this, i hope everyone is doing well,,, and i hope UKYT doesnât go down this hole of slop content cause it actually makes me feel so violently sad
love you all, and sorry iâve been away for ages <3
intellectual sparring, part two | arthur frederick
i heard through the grapevine that some of you wanted a part two...
here's [part one], if you haven't read it already!
if you wanna join taglist or anything, my old one broke so the new one is only the people i could find with similar/same account names - if you wanna be added pls ask!!! :D
"you had never seen yourself as the type of girl to take intellectual sparring as some twisted kind of foreplay.
but here you were.
you hated it - how you could feel your cheeks heat a little whilst the back and forth continued every time. how smug he could be when he was right, like playing monopoly with the worst winner ever.
[...]
and when you heard arthur's raspy, half-sleep laced voice murmur out, "morning, lovie"
you knew you were fucked."
the pieces of the puzzle of the night before came back to you like some hallucinogenic dream. you and arthur play-arguing, him baiting you into telling him the 'absolute truth'... then ending up with his arm slung against your back like it was commonplace after enough sambuca to tranquilise a horse.
"..morning, arthur," you murmured out, voice bashful.
this was so stupid. arthur was your best friend - yes, a very attractive one, but best friend nonetheless. and waking up in his bed was not even close to what you had expected, and you felt mortified.
feeling his hand against your bare back was the next warning sign, as you clicked together. bare back. you were naked.
"oh... oh my god...!" you practically shot up, pulling the covers up to prevent any further exposure.
"you okay?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed together as your sudden movement had clearly shocked him, lifting himself up from laying slightly, his own bare chest now out from the covers, only resting from his lap downwards now.
"arthur, we.. we slept together?" you blurted out, hand in hair and a quick breath leaving you.
"w-well, yeah, we... you, um, at chris', you... uh, we were both quite drunk, and you... you don't remember?" he asked, and you watched his face fall a little.
"i.. we were jokingly arguing, and i said you were attractive.. we kissed, but i wasn't expecting... fuck.." you babbled out further, feeling heat hit your cheeks.
god, you were embarrassed. a one night stand with your best friend is not what you wanted, especially the best friend you had been developing a disgustingly strong crush on.
getting under him was not going to help you get over him, and you knew how much this would hurt. him telling you it was a one time thing, your friendship pausing awkwardly, this moment of time freezing it to a standstill.
"i.. i need to go home, i need to... uh, i.." you fiddled with the bedsheet, trying to preserve any little dignity you had left whilst reaching to the floor, where your clothes lay discarded, so you could put them on.
"wait, wait, y/n..." arthur breathed out, "you.. you don't seem okay, at all.. i-i didn't want to upset you, that wasn't.. wasn't what this was at all," he spoke, running his hand through his own tousled hair.
the sight of him stressing did nothing for your own panic.
"it's fine, arthur, it's just..." you paused, biting the inside of your cheek until that sharp, metallic taste shocked you and you focussed on retrieving your dress. you had to leave, before he could say anything that would make you want to dig your own grave out of sheer embarrassment or stupidity that you had any drunken idea that you and him were actually something.
"just what? you - you're scrambling up like you regret it, or something," arthur said, the soft surprised smile from last night completely abandoned, replaced by a sudden, protective stiffness. he pulled the sheet higher over his lap, a subtle movement cementing a boundary that had been thrown to the wind only hours ago. "if you're upset, please just tell me over bolting out of here."
upset? that's one word. mortified, head over heels, cripplingly embarrassed are some others that encapsulate what was overtaking your body. you forced a weak brittle smile.
"i.. i'm not upset, why would i be upset? it was a bit of fun, clearly we were both drunk, and uh, now i should head." you finally secured your dress from the night before, and shoved it over you as quick as you could, as if it was some bulletproof protection. you avoided his eyes, staring at the pattern of his duvet - dark blue, with some kind of swirl. you needed to show that this was no big deal, that you were unattached, cool, and not about to go home and sob into your own mattress about how stupid you could have been to assume anything from a drunken flirty night.
"a bit of fun?" arthur repeated, his voice dangerously low. it almost mimicked the teasing tone of your debate, but now it was laced with a sharp confusion that sounded suspiciously similar to hurt. "that's... that's what last night was for you? you said i was 'unbelievably attractive', you said 'yes' when i asked if that was the truth. you don't kiss a friend like that and call it a bit of fun the next morning."
his words hit like a punch. he was right. you didn't. you couldn't admit the truth now - that it was terrifying and meaningful and you were leaving like a coward because you thought he saw it as some temporary indulgence.
"i.. i don't know what you want me to say, arthur." you snapped back, cheeks flaming hot, "we.. we were clearly just arguing ourselves into some kind of.. moment, we were drunk, things happened, i just need to go home. can we just.. pretend this didn't happen?"
arthur stared at you like you had two heads, a genuine look of disbelief flooding across his features. pretend it didn't happen?
his mind was scrambled into whatever the opposite of self reassuring thoughts were: she's upset. she thinks i took advantage of her when she was drunk. she thought i was just in it for 'fun' and now she thinks i just used her. that's why she wants to leave. she called me attractive 'cause i backed her into a corner in our stupid debate, she wasn't serious, obviously.
he'd been planning in his head, how to do something about last night the whole morning. that he wanted to take her out for some breakfast, maybe. that he of course was not going to roll back asleep, and that he actually liked her. but her sudden, absolute want for distance, her calling it some 'fun' was a big, flashing, blaring sign.
"fine." arthur said, the word heavy and cold. his tone was suddenly sharp, shutting down any raw vulnerability from last night. he had misread the whole thing. he was stupid to assume she was being truthful just 'cause he was. of course she was embarrassed - embarrassed that she had slept with him, and embarrassed that she now wanted to pretend nothing had happened. their debate flashed through his head: lying for social acceptance.
he shifted and swung his legs off his side of the bed, grabbing boxers from the floor and pulling them on, back to you. the sudden removal of any of his attention was almost worse than the sharp eye contact.
"if you need to go home, go." he muttered, reaching for a t-shirt, "but don't call it 'fun' if you're gonna act like... this. i thought we were past the whole forced honesty stuff after last night, but apparently i was wrong." he looked back at you once again, his face the picture of disappointment. "if you want to act like it didn't happen, fine. i like you, and i assumed last night meant something. if you didn't, just go."
you froze between trying to untwist the straps of your dress that sat funny on your shoulder. he liked you? no, of course not. he was trying to be nice, to spare your feelings. he was lying to be kind - the same social kindness he defended last night.
"don't lie, arthur," you whispered, the conviction in your voice making your own belief waver for a moment, "don't just say that because i'm embarrassed."
the laugh arthur let out was harsh and incredulous, "there it is! you call me a liar, when you're stood there, fully dressed, running away from me when last night you said all this shit, swore you were telling the truth, and now you want to press the reset button! i'm not the one lying, i have a colossal, idiotic crush on you - i did last night, i do now. and i woke up thinking, maybe, just maybe, you felt the same." he took some small steps towards you, closing distance between his almost carefully managed disappointment and your frantic embarrassment. "your absolute truth, remember? i've given you mine. now give me yours. are you leaving 'cause it was really just a 'bit of fun' and you don't like me back, or are you leaving because you think it's a one night thing and you're scared? cause you were either lying last night, or you're lying now."
his question hung in the air heavily. you looked at his eyes, solid and sincere, the slight tremble in his jaw that betrayed his almost perfect composure. for all the times he was smug, and right, he wasn't smug now.
you took a ragged breath, the assumption you made about your rejection crumpling, leaving the stupidly vulnerable truth.
"i'm leaving because i thought you didn't like me," you finally admitted, the words a babble of a breathless rush. "i-i thought it was just the alcohol, and the adrenaline of the.. debate, and that you were going to regret this now. and i've liked you for months, arthur, and the thought of hearing you tell me that it was a mistake, that it was one night would have hurt too much. so i'd rather run now then hear that."
arthur's face softened completely. the tense line of his shoulders dropped, and he looked at you, utterly bewildered. then the slow, familiar, infuriatingly charming smirk returned, mixed with a profound relief.
"you absolute idiot," he murmured, taking the final step to close the gap, placing a warm hand on your even warmer cheek, "i thought you were running because you were disgusted and thought i was only in it for a quick lay. i thought your 'bit of fun' was a polite way of saying, 'this was vile, i never want to do this again'."
"so.. we're both just stupid?" you murmured, eyes raising slightly to meet his own.
"so stupid." he confirmed, leaning forward slightly and pressing his lips lightly against your forehead, "and incredibly, frustratingly honest when backed into a corner."
hello, am not dead i am instead going through the throes of starting a dissertation đ
iâve been inactive for so long and iâd like to write some more this year but just a lil update cause i am so incredibly busy, but i miss u guys like crazy
i heard whispers that people wanted a part two... so here you guys are *mwah mwah*
here's part one if you haven't read,,, not completely necessary but probably helps!
"no, i.. i don't think i have a crush on her.." he murmured out, and felt his eyes look to the floor for a moment, as if calculating something in his head.
arthur finally looked back up, a look of half-dawned horror on his face.
"oh my god, you're right," he whispered, "i'm a complete freak."
"didn't need this moment of revelation to figure that one out," bach said, still grinning. "so, uh, what you going to do?"
the moment those words left his mouth, a spinning flurry of memories flooded his mind - a gentle smile as you took the jumper from him, always choosing the seat next to you and elbows bumping occasionally, a giggle between a friendly debate: a slamming overdrive of 'bach is right'.
"i-i've gotta go," arthur murmured, standing up from the sofa.
bach looked up, confused but a slight of a cocky smile on his face, "where are you going? i thought we were going to-"
"i've got to go do something ridiculously stupid," arthur cut him off, "and you can't tell anyone."
and without a word, he was dashed out the door. his footsteps could barely keep up with his mind racing, what was he even doing? walking to your house for what, to make up some excuse to see you? would seeing you click it into place for him?
the walk of purpose, his turning mind and the slight wind gusting past him felt like some kind of vortex.
his pace slowed the closer he got to the street of your apartment block. the energy that had propelled him to leave bach's apartment had fizzled out, replaced with a sore sort of cold dread. he couldn't just turn up a sweaty, panicked mess, and confess that he was some weirdo that couldn't stop thinking about how sweet you smelled.
he started to turn himself around, feeling daft for even storming away like that, and couldn't imagine the jokes bach could possibly make about it later down the line, and the pounding in his ears just started to calm when he saw you walking out of the local bakery across the street, headphones on your head, brown paper bag in hand, tucked messily over your hair in such an endearing way, dressed in a longer skirt and a cropped cardigan that looked so cosy and unapologetically you.
he had a few seconds to chill, to have a reason to be round here, to be smooth or at least look like it.
as you walked towards him on the street, spotting him, you smiled casually, a rosy flush on your cheeks as you got close enough to speak, pulling your headphones off your head as you spoke.
"arthur! hey, what are you doing here?" your head tilting slightly as you spoke.
he stumbled his way through the lie he had half created in his head, "oh, i was.. on my way to get a coffee, well tea, i don't like coffee much, but erm, and yeah, i thought i'd come by and say thanks again for fixing my jumper, i've worn it every day since you fixed it," he said, hoping you wouldn't notice the slight swallow in his throat from his brazen faced lie. he hadn't even dared put the jumper back on.
you laughed, a genuine sound that made his stomach turn slightly, "arthur, really, you're sweet, but you don't need to thank me again, it was nothing."
he smiled slightly sheepishly as she continued, crinkled corners at her eyes, "so, i'm guessing it's safely re-broken in, if you've worn it that much. the stitchings held up?"
"like it was never broken," he replied, feeling his confidence returning. he was speaking normally, you weren't looking at him like he had two heads. it was going okay.
"well, if you're so intent on thanking me, how about you come in and have that cuppa i offered you the other day? i was about to have a coffee myself, though i have tea since you don't like coffee much," you called back to his earlier ramblings with a small smile.
he didn't hesitate, "yes. yes please," he said a little too quickly.
"and, as you can see i just went to the bakery for some pastries, 'cause i just fancied something sweet... and since i'm so nice, i'll even debate sharing them with you," you teased.
he smiled back, lopsided and feeling like the most socially challenged human to walk the earth in a while as he walked beside her up the street to her apartment, and into the building. the ride in the lift up to your floor was almost taunting in a comfortable silence, he was so acutely aware of how close you two were.
he followed you into your flat, which he had only been in a handful of times, but it was always so cozy and welcoming, and he couldn't help himself from turning his head to be nosy at the things hung on the walls.
you called him out of his trance like state whilst he was looking at a painting on your wall, a moon and sun, both with faces, a celestial blue background.
"oh, my sister painted that," you smiled, and his head turned to you quickly.
"oh, wow... she's talented," he murmured, and you nodded, gesturing to a spot on the sofa.
"yeah, she is," you said sweetly, "just make yourself comfortable, i'm gonna pop the kettle on."
the front room and kitchen were connected, no wall between, just a shift from carpet to tile in the corner of the room.
"you can put the tv on, if you'd like," you called out.
"what were you watching the other night, when you were fixing my jumper?" he asked, not turning on the tv or sitting down, instead leaning against the back of your sofa to stand and continue to chat with you.
you turned your head to look at him as you filled the kettle with water, the rhythm of the tap humming in the background, "how'd you know i was watching something?"
"just a guess," he said, "i can't imagine you'd sit and sew in silence?"
you laughed and shook your head, "suppose you're right," you grinned, "i usually put on a show or something i've seen before, sometimes music, anything that doesn't need my full attention. i was watching planet earth, actually."
"planet earth?' he questioned. god he felt stupid, the picture of you curled up, planet earth in the background and sewing felt like some form of divine thought.
"yeah, is that so weird?" you asked, an amused look on your face.
"no, i just didn't.. take you for the type, i guess," he replied, a small smile playing on his lips as the gurgle of the kettle continued in the background.
"and what type do you think i am, arthur?" you asked, leaning against the counter and looking at him expectantly.
he looked at you, really looked, mapping every soft detail of your face as he felt his heart race at the pressure and his hands clamming up as he tried to calculate how not to be a complete idiot or say something wrong, his mouth opening slightly to speak as the cacophony of the kettle reached its peak.
"arthur?" you prompted, your voice soft and concerned.
the kettle clicked off, the sudden silence amplifying every inner thought.
"you're the kind of person that makes things good just by being there," he blurted, the words tumbling out making him wince, a half-hearted self-conscious laugh escaping him, "god, that was cheesy, sorry, i just-"
you still leaned against the counter, head tilted and a genuine smile meeting your face, "i think that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me,"
"no, i mean... i came here cause i had this whole conversation with bach about you fixing my jumper, cause it, like.. well, i..." he murmured, trying to vaguely escape saying he was some jumper sniffing moron, "and he said i had a crush on you, and i denied it 'cause i never even thought, and then he said it and it clicked," he had to pause to take a breath, or he would surely suffocate from his own ramblings, both terrifying and liberating him, "so i like half-ran over here, and i felt like a total weirdo and then i was going to leave, and then i saw you and i just... needed to see you so i stayed, and i wasn't going to say any of this out loud, i swear, i was just coming to... i don't know, have a cup of tea and be normal, but now i'm saying it all and i sound like such an idiot, and i'm really sorry, you don't have to say anything and i'll just leave,"
he started to shake his own head, scolding himself mentally, a panicked look in his eyes, bach was right, he was a freak.
but instead, you shook your own head in return, a laugh of disbelief leaving you.
"you're an absolute disaster, arthur," you giggled fondly, your smile unwavering, "an adorable disaster," you pushed off the counter, walking towards him.
you were so close to him now he felt like his brain was about to blow a fuse.
"i really liked the flowers you brought. did you pick them out yourself?" you asked.
he had to swallow a lump in his throat before answering. you had glided over all of that too smoothly, too sweetly and you weren't calling him a complete creep.
"um, uh huh. yeah, saw them and they were such a nice blue, so.." he said awkwardly. "i'm sorry for being such a freak."
'they're my favourites. type of flowers i mean." you eased over his apologies once more. "you don't need to apologise, arthur."
and then you leaned in and kissed him. it wasn't long, but it was enough for his brain to completely short circuit and his hand to reach up wistfully, almost to place it near your head but pausing in place.
he had been so sure you were going to tell him to go away and not come back, and instead you were here, kissing him.
you pulled away, a flurry of amusement and affection littering your eyes, "still gonna stay for that cuppa?" you teased.
he just stood there, dumbfounded, a wide smile crossing his face.
SORRY i have literally been so MIA i am back home for the summer and home is,, not a great place for me so i kinda slack and cut myself off from the world so i'm so so sorry about that!
i'd love to say i'll be back soon but honestly i have no idea when im gonna feel like myself again
sorry i know this is a bit of a deeper thing than i'd usually post but i just felt you guys were owed a bit of honesty and it feels good to tell the truth :)
ily guys and the community so so much and i know this is just a periodic phase i go through sometimes so,,,
PLS this exists more than u could ever know!!!! tag me in everything!!!!! i miss u all like crazy, just away from internet for a lot of recent times :)
i love coming back to everything i've missed and having a big binge so pls pls pls tag me in any fics you post!!!!
okay i hate to keep returning to this one post,, but i wanna come back to posting again! i've lowkey fell off (understandable, i went missing for like two months lmao)
if there's anything you'd like to see me do, pls request it!! i love writing and it's such a fab escape so pls pls pls, gimme some ideas if you wanna!
SORRY i have literally been so MIA i am back home for the summer and home is,, not a great place for me so i kinda slack and cut myself off from the world so i'm so so sorry about that!
i'd love to say i'll be back soon but honestly i have no idea when im gonna feel like myself again
sorry i know this is a bit of a deeper thing than i'd usually post but i just felt you guys were owed a bit of honesty and it feels good to tell the truth :)
ily guys and the community so so much and i know this is just a periodic phase i go through sometimes so,,,
PLS this exists more than u could ever know!!!! tag me in everything!!!!! i miss u all like crazy, just away from internet for a lot of recent times :)
i love coming back to everything i've missed and having a big binge so pls pls pls tag me in any fics you post!!!!
please take this as my humble apology for being gone so long!!! i've been in hospital for a bit so this is an older draft i've kinda gone through and re-jigged :P
you had never seen yourself as the type of girl to take intellectual sparring as some twisted kind of foreplay.
but here you were.
you hated it - how you could feel your cheeks heat a little whilst the back and forth continued every time. how smug he could be when he was right, like playing monopoly with the worst winner ever.
arthur had never seen himself as the type of guy to be provoked by a girl so easily.
but here he was.
he could handle you being just smart - but your quick comebacks and teasing smile and everything else that followed just made it all seem so hard. hard to act normal around you without some flirty comments or too-long-lasting stares.
a stupid debate about the ethics behind deception and lying sparked this one: you had both been on the small outside balcony of chris, arthur and george's apartment whilst they were having people round, and you made some comment about hating the taste of sambuca, him calling you a liar playfully, remarking that he had seen you drink it all the time, you replying that you didn't lie.
arthur thought white lies were a kind of social kindness, that some things are necessary to not hurt people, like saying someone's awful outfit looked good. you thought deviating from the truth was a dangerous precedent.
"so you're telling me you'd tell me i looked like shit, even if i was already having a bad day?" arthur raised his eyebrow, a curious look on his face as if he had a 'gotcha' moment.
"i'd tell you you looked like shit if you asked me, and you did look bad. i'm not saying i say everything i think, just if someone asks me, i wouldn't lie," you grinned back, "and anyways, if you looked like shit i would delight in that."
he paused for a moment, "what about if it was for safety? if you had to lie for that?"
"what, like you're some noble protector who knows what's best for everyone?" you joked back, watching him roll his eyes, "safety is one of the places i'd lean towards your argument, but that's such a small outlier in this debate - we're talking about socially."
he moved to be a little closer to you now, tension palpable in the air, a grin on his face as if he was saying 'you just admitted my argument had some form of correctness'.
"oh, wipe that smirk off your face, arthur... what about your precious chess? would you try and trick me in chess?" you asked, looking up to him slightly, eyebrows raised a little like a challenge.
"and you'd fall for it every time, trying to be honourable." he quipped back, taking a small drink from his cup, as if a reward for his quick comeback.
"you think you're so smart, don't you?" you turned to him, eyes narrowed a little, your tone sharp and joking.
"i don't think it, darling, i know it." he said back, tone lowered slightly, hearing it sending a shiver down your back for a moment, leaving you to pause and take a sip of your drink, not daring to look him in the eyes.
you knew all too well if you looked at him now, the embarrassing mix of attraction and irritation would be blatantly obvious. it felt like forbidden fruit, your own pride a disallowance to indulge.
i just.. don't think lying is acceptable. i'd rather be honest and someone uses me for that than lying for no reason other than social acceptance," you snapped back. you could feel him getting under your skin, and you wouldn't care so much if it wasn't for how good he looked whilst doing it. stood there, arms crossed, shirt sinfully tight on his biceps as his arms were crossed against his chest.
"what does 'acceptable' even mean in this context though? the morality? is there an explicit immorality in lying?" he asked, his eyes running over you for a moment, in appreciation of the dress that curved over your body especially nicely.
"i think to people you know, yes. lying for safety or to strangers is a different ball court, but in a friendship, or anything like that? yeah, lying is off the table to me."
"so, you believe there should be no secrets between anyone who cares for one another?" he asked, a smirk painted across his face. "so, you'd have nothing to hide?"
you held his gaze, you had to, you could not break the eye contact first, even despite the raging blush across your cheeks. the implicit challenge in his tone, the continued eye contact as he'd manipulated your honesty debate into something far more intimate.
"i said before, secrets are different from lies, arthur," you countered back, but your voice was embarrassingly quiet now, nursing another swallow of your drink in hopes it would douse some of the heat surging through your body, your fingertips feeling almost electric.
his eyebrow raised, smirk still playing on his lips, the quirk in his face both a challenge and curiosity.
"so where would you draw that line?" he said - almost purred, "for example, there's lots i don't know about you," he asked, eyes dropping to your lips for the slightest of seconds before gaining eye contact again, "so, in your argument - it's a secret 'til you get asked, but if someone asked you wouldn't lie?"
he took another slow sip of his drink, watching you gulp down air briefly as the silence stretches for a moment.
"you're trying to trap me, aren't you?" you finally managed, a brittle smile on your face and your voice a little breathy, "turn this into some confessional rather than a debate about ethics," you tried to quip back, but it just didn't hold the same weight.
arthur chuckled a little, the vibration passing through the air like static electricity, and leaned himself a little against the railing you stood next to, "well, that's part of a debate, no? personal application? or.. are you arguing abstractly, cause when i press you about the reality of always telling the truth, it's not convenient?" he asked lowly, his gaze almost sharpened, "if you truly believed what you were arguing, you'd be an open book. unless, there are things you would be asked and wouldn't answer, which would make you... a bit of a hypocrite, no, sweetheart?"
you hated how stubborn you were. too, too stubborn. you wanted some air-tight, razor sharp comeback but the only thing you could muster up without backing down was: "well, why don't you try prove your stupid hypothesis? if you are right, i wouldn't answer, right?"
his smirk widened - the stupid, self-confident curve of his lips sending another jolt through you as he weighed up the challenge, whilst all was running through your head was 'why on earth did i say that'.
you could see his mind whirring, thinking up what he could ask you, how far he could push your buttons into something you wouldn't answer just to prove his own point.
he pushed himself from the railing, taking a deliberate step towards you, until you felt his warmth radiating, the feeling dizzying. his gaze was assessing and teasing, looking at your flushed cheeks.
"so, if i asked you what you thought of me, you'd be able to tell me the absolute truth?" he asked, his voice laced with a dangerous charm.
"if you asked me what i thought of you right now, i'd say you seem like you're enjoying this." you spoke, albeit quietly. not technically lying, just omitting some small truths over the fact that despite how frustrating he could be, it was all you could think about to rip his clothes off right about now.
"oh, i'm definitely enjoying this. you've dug yourself into a hole of answering anything i ask you with absolute honesty, or admitting that i was right, which is something you will never do, if i know the first thing about you." he said, his head tilting down slightly, the smell of his cologne intoxicating, "but that wasn't really my question, i asked of what you thought of me, not just right now, you know, the absolute truth stuff," he paused, grinning, "and remember, you don't lie, right?"
your head spun in a search for some non-committal or witty or clever way of approaching this, the air feeling thick as his eyes were glued on you, like a dare for you to lie.
your throat felt dry, "you're.. infuriating," you managed at first, watching the corners of his mouth twitch and amusement flood his eyes.
"and?" he prompted, voice low, teasing.
"and.. surprisingly good at getting under my skin."
but his eyes still lingered - you knew he was waiting for you to say more, and you had walked yourself into this.
"and.. i find you unbelievably attractive." you finally blurted out, a frantic whisper as your eyes widened with the undeniable admission.
you watched as arthurs smirk faded into a soft, surprised smile that completely disarmed you - though the cocky, teasing 'i'm always right' look still stayed in his eyes.
"is that the truth?" he murmured, and he was so close to you that your skin felt like it was burning. god, this was embarrassing. you hadn't even touched and you felt yourself running on pure adrenaline.
your heart was slamming against your ribs as you breathed out "yes."
"good," he continued lowly, "because i think you're pretty infuriating too."
the tension in the air throbbed.
"and for the record," he spoke lowly as he leaned in, "i find you incredibly attractive."
and before you could even register it, you felt his lips on yours. you wished you had stopped to care about the fact that the balcony door was glass and anyone who dared to look at the balcony would see your hands reach for the back of his neck, heavy breaths escaping you both as pulling back would feel like the highest form of blasphemy, not when his fingers grasped at your hips like the easiest participation in prayer.
and so when you woke up in the morning, his arm draped lazily over your bare back like it belonged there, his chest rising and falling slowly as slits of yellowish light protruded through his blinds, you wished you could say you were surprised. flashes of the night blurred your memory as you came to, both of your clothes strewn on the floor as if they belonged there - a trailing art piece towards arthur's bed.
and when you heard arthur's raspy, half-sleep laced voice murmur out, "morning, lovie"
SORRY i have literally been so MIA i am back home for the summer and home is,, not a great place for me so i kinda slack and cut myself off from the world so i'm so so sorry about that!
i'd love to say i'll be back soon but honestly i have no idea when im gonna feel like myself again
sorry i know this is a bit of a deeper thing than i'd usually post but i just felt you guys were owed a bit of honesty and it feels good to tell the truth :)
ily guys and the community so so much and i know this is just a periodic phase i go through sometimes so,,,
â ŰŤ â â . â .Ë â . ËâHE DIDN'T even hear you come in.
Arthur was deep in it ⸺ the kind of hyperfocus he only ever reached when he forgot time existed. His back was curved over his laptop, glow of the screen painting his face in cool blue tones, one hand buried in his hair while the other dragged clips along a timeline with obsessive precision. The faint clack of his keyboard, the occasional curse under his breath, something about âshouldâve trimmed that bit shorterâ and âtransitionâs too sharpâ, filled the otherwise quiet flat.
His headphones were half-off, one ear uncovered so he could still hear the world around him, though clearly not well enough. He didnât notice your soft footsteps on the carpet. Didnât notice the way you lingered just beyond the doorframe, watching.
god, he looked so fucking good like this.
vurls pushed back and messy, sleeves of his hoodie shoved up to his elbows. His socked feet were tucked under him in the chair, hunched posture betraying how long heâd been glued to that desk. He was beautiful in the casual, accidental way he always was ⸺ soft and serious, utterly unaware of how completely undone he made you just by existing.
You shifted slightly, feeling the silk of your robe brush against your skin. Nervous butterflies swarmed your stomach, fluttering with anticipation. You were barely dressed underneath, more thread than fabric, and for a moment you hovered there, breath catching as you debated whether to go through with it.
Thhen: âHey,â you said softly.
Arthur startled. He spun his chair halfway around, blinking like heâd just surfaced from deep water, his hand flying to pull off the other headphone. âHey, babe ⸺ â
His voice stopped mid-sentence.
Because the robe slipped from your shoulders.
It fell in a whisper-soft puddle to the floor. Silence stretched in the space it left behind.
Arthurâs mouth parted. His eyes flicked down your body and then back up, completely stunned. You could see the moment his brain genuinely short-circuited.
You stood there in the soft gold spill of hallway light, wearing almost nothing. Just a pale, sheer slip ⸺ lace and silk so fine it might as well have been spun from fog. It hugged your waist and dipped at the hips, barely covering anything. The neckline swooped low across your chest, the hem barely grazing the tops of your thighs, leaving your legs long and bare in the quiet warmth of the room.
âI got this for you,â you said, voice low but steady.
He didnât speak. His eyes scanned every inch of you like he was afraid he might miss something. like he wasnât sure you were real. You watched his throat move as he swallowed hard, and then again. His chest rose and fell faster now ⸺ almost visibly trembling. You could see his arousal building: the way his legs shifted beneath the desk, thighs tensing. The growing outline in his joggers. His fingers twitched at his sides like he didnât know where to put them.
âI ⸺ â Arthur exhaled a laugh, hoarse. âYouâre joking.â
You let your fingers drift down your thighs, slow and teasing, and took a step forward. âDoes it look like Iâm joking?â
He shook his head helplessly, jaw slack, pupils blown so wide his eyes looked nearly black.
You closed the distance. slow, dreamlike. and climbed into his lap with deliberate grace. The silk of your slip clung to your thighs as you settled over him, the fabric catching just slightly on the cotton of his hoodie, static and heat blooming where your bodies touched. Your knees sank into either side of his hips, caging him in.
As you lowered yourself onto his lap, your barely-covered cunt brushed right over the hard length straining against his joggers, just a glancing pressure, but enough to make you both suck in a breath. The thin lace of your slip did nothing to hide the heat of you, how soft and wet you already were. You could feel the outline of him through the fabric. thick, pulsing ⸺ and when your hips shifted slightly to settle, the friction dragged a soft whimper from his throat.
Arthurâs whole body jolted. His hands flew to hover at your waist, trembling, unsure ⸺ like even touching you might make you vanish. His eyes locked on yours, pupils blown wide, lips parted as he exhaled a shaky, desperate breath.
âFuck,â he whispered, voice raw. âYouâre.. youâre right there.â
You smiled faintly, letting your hips rock just a little ⸺ a teasing roll that made your clothed cunt drag along the length of him again, delicious and slow.
âMm,â you murmured. âI noticed.â
He groaned, low and wrecked, his head falling back slightly as if the sensation alone was too much. His fingers twitched at your hips, not quite gripping, not quite letting go. You could feel how hot he was under you, how much he needed you, and how hard he was trying not to move, not to thrust up and chase the friction.
His breath hitched. âYou look.. I canât ⸺ fuck. You look unreal.â
You smiled and leaned in to press your lips to the sharp edge of his jaw. âCan I stay here for a bit?â
âPlease do,â he whispered, and finally let his hands settle on your thighs, featherlight, reverent. Like you were sacred.
His hands settled on your thighs at last. tentative, reverent, fingertips tracing the curve of your skin like he still couldnât believe you were real. But then you shifted forward again, slow and deliberate, dragging your clothed cunt along the thick ridge of him straining beneath his joggers.
Arthur gasped, sharp and guttural, his whole body jolting beneath you. His hips bucked up instinctively, chasing the friction before he could stop himself, a broken curse falling from his lips as the contact sent a visible shudder through him.
âFuck,â he breathed.
âGood,â you murmured, brushing a kiss to the corner of his lips. âWant to take this off me?â
His eyes darkened instantly.
He nodded slowly, as if he was still processing the question. Then his hands slid up your sides, the pads of his fingers grazing the lace, the silk, the bare sliver of skin where your ribs curved into your waist.
When he reached your chest, he paused.
âIs this okay?â he asked, voice barely audible.
You nodded once. âYes.â
Arthur exhaled like heâd been holding it in for hours, and then, gently, so gently, slipped the straps from your shoulders. His fingers trembled as he peeled them down, knuckles brushing your skin, until the silk pooled at your waist with a sigh.
The moment your breasts came into view, he stilled.
His breath caught audibly. His mouth genuinely parted. Eyes dragged over you like he was afraid to blink and miss a second of it. He didnât speak ⸺ couldnât ⸺ just stared, completely undone, like he was looking at something sacred. His cheeks were flushed, lips pink and parted, the tension in his jaw giving away how hard he was trying to keep it together.
âJesus Christ,â he whispered finally, almost like it wasnât meant to be heard. âYouâre.. youâre fucking breathtaking.â
And still, he didnât touch ⸺ like he couldnât believe he was allowed.
You leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of his ear, your breath warm and slow. âYouâre allowed to touch me, Arthur.â
The sound he made in response was guttural. full-bodied, low, like it had been dragged from the very base of his spine. His hands moved instantly, almost blindly, cupping your bare breasts with a kind of desperate care. His thumbs swept over your nipples, slow and reverent, watching the way your mouth parted and your breath caught in your throat, the way your whole body arched into his touch.
You could feel how hard he was beneath you, thick and straining through the layers of fabric, so hot it felt like it was burning right through to your skin. Without meaning to, your hips rolled forward. a slow, needy grind that made your soaked panties drag across his cock, slick catching on the ridge of him through his joggers.
Arthur whimpered. Full-on, breathless and wrecked, his head dropping to your shoulder like the sensation short-circuited his brain.
âCan I ⸺ â he gasped, voice raw, âCan I be inside you? Just like this? Please, I.. I need to be inside you.â
Your heart fluttered at how sincere it was. how desperate.
You smiled, letting your lips graze his jaw. âYou want me to ride you?â you asked, voice low and thick with heat.
His breath stuttered. He nodded, fast, almost dizzy. âYeah. God, yes. Please. I need you.â
You kissed him once. slow, deep, and lingering. your lips parting his, tasting the ragged edge of his breath. His hands clung to your waist like he didnât want you to move, but when you finally pulled back, his eyes fluttered open, heavy-lidded and desperate.
âHold on,â you whispered, and shifted back just enough to reach between your bodies.
Arthur let out a shaky sound as you gripped the waistband of his joggers and briefs, your fingers brushing against the thick line of him through the fabric. He was hot and straining beneath your touch, twitching slightly as you dragged the layers down his thighs. His cock sprang free, flushed and leaking at the tip, already so hard it curved up toward his stomach. The sight of him, thick, veined, so so so perfect ⸺ made your entire body pulse with heat.
He was panting now, jaw slack, watching you like he was watching a wet dream unfold in real time. His eyes dropped to your center, where the soaked lace clung between your legs, and he let out a quiet, reverent, âFuck,,.â
You climbed back over him, moving slowly, deliberately ⸺ until you were straddling his hips again, your knees braced on either side, your bare heat poised just above the thick, aching length of him.
He looked like he was holding his breath.
You reached down between your bodies, guiding him with a firm, practiced grip, lining him up right at your entrance. He was hot and slick in your hand, twitching in your grasp as you rubbed the head against your folds, spreading your wetness over him in slow, teasing circles.
Then, with the slowest, most torturous care, you began to sink down onto him.
The stretch made you gasp, made your body tighten around him inch by inch. Your walls fluttered as he filled you slowly, the pressure sharp and exquisite, heat licking up your spine as your thighs trembled with the effort of staying slow. Arthurâs head tipped back, mouth falling open as a raw, shuddering groan spilled from his chest.
âfucking.. fffuck,â he gasped, hands flying to your waist ⸺ not to stop you, but to anchor himself. His fingers flexed, gripped, tried and failed to stay gentle as you took more of him, inch by inch, until he was seated fully inside you.
His breath was a series of broken sounds. hitched, overwhelmed, helpless.
âJesus Christ,â he whispered. âYouâre so fucking tight.. I can feel everything. holy shit.. holy shit.â
You rested your hands on his chest, heart pounding, and rocked your hips once ⸺ slow and deliberate ⸺ just to feel him move inside you.
His entire body jerked.
âGod,â he groaned. âYou feel ⸺ fuck, you feel so good ⸺ â
You rolled your hips again, slow and indulgent, letting him feel every inch of your heat sliding around him. Arthurâs reaction was instant. a choked moan that tore from his chest, his arms tightening around your waist like he physically couldnât handle the pleasure without anchoring himself to you.
âFuck,â he whimpered, voice already falling apart. âyou feel so good, I canât ⸺ I canât even think.â
You leaned in, lips brushing against his, and moved again, a deliberate grind, pressing down until you were flush against him. His entire body shuddered beneath you, fingers digging into your thighs like he needed to hold on or else completely unravel.
âYouâre doing so well,â you whispered, biting gently at his jaw. âSo deep inside me, baby. You feel that?â
Arthur gasped like heâd been slapped. âYeah,â he breathed, almost helpless. âGod, yeah. I feel all of you ⸺ I feel everything. Youâre so warm, youâre ⸺ fuck, youâre perfect.â
You kissed him again, deep and hungry, hips starting to pick up a steady rhythm. Every bounce, every grind dragged more frantic little sounds from his throat, moans that got higher, softer, more desperate the longer you rode him. He was panting into your mouth, hands trembling, eyes half-lidded and dazed like he couldnât believe this was real.
He clung to you, trying to match your rhythm, trying to last ⸺ but you could tell he was already teetering on the edge.
His hands moved to your hips again, not to take control, never that ⸺ but to hold you there, as if letting go would break him. You moved faster, your pace just a little sharper, and he let out a shattered, almost whimpering, âOh my god.â
You leaned in, lips right at his ear. âIs that okay?â
His breath hitched so violently it made his whole body twitch. He nodded rapidly, voice raw and pleading.
âYeah ⸺yeah, please, donât stop, please donât stop, Iâm so close, I canât ⸺ please, just like that, please keep going ⸺ â
His words tumbled out fast, half-mumbled, all broken. He was completely gone for you, eyes glassy, jaw slack, cock twitching helplessly inside you every time you moved.
You didnât stop.
Your thighs trembled from the effort, muscles tightening and releasing with each steady bounce, every movement sending delicious, shuddering ripples through both of you. The delicate lace of your slip clung damply around your waist, the silky fabric soaked with your heat and sweat, sticking to your skin like a second skin. Strands of your hair fell forward, brushing softly against the shell of his ear, the sharp line of his jaw, and the curve of his neck, making him shiver beneath your touch.
Arthurâs face was flushed ⸺ deep rose spreading across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, lips parted and trembling, catching shallow, ragged breaths that came fast and uneven, like he was trying to hold himself together but couldnât quite manage it. His eyes were half-lidded, glassy with a mixture of lust and disbelief, dark pools that shone with a frantic kind of need.
His hands were wild. shaking, uncertain ⸺ splayed wide on your hips as though he wasnât sure how to hold you without breaking you, or himself. Every muscle beneath his hoodie looked taut and coiled, desperate to ground himself against the storm of sensation you were driving through him. His fingers dug into your skin lightly, leaving faint impressions that vanished as quickly as they appeared, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt ⸺ the softness, the heat, the way your body moved beneath his.
âPlease,â he gasped, voice trembling into a near-whimper, brittle and fragile, a broken plea that wrapped around you like a desperate thread. âPlease, I ⸺ I canât ⸺ You feel too good, too tight ⸺ Iâm gonna ⸺ Iâm going to lose it ⸺ â
Your lips found the curve of his jaw, your breath warm and heavy as you whispered softly, slow and teasing, âCanât what, Arthur? Say it for me.â
A broken, wet whimper slipped from his throat ⸺ a sound so raw and vulnerable it made your chest ache. His head dropped forward, nuzzling into your neck, like burying himself in you might somehow slow the rapid beating of his heart.
âIâm not gonna last,â he stammered, voice cracking under the weight of how close he was, âPlease, please donât stop ⸺ I need you, I need to come with you inside me ⸺ â
His hands gripped your hips like they were the only anchor keeping him tethered to reality, fingers trembling with the effort of holding on. His hips jerked involuntarily, chasing the friction, craving every inch of your warmth and tightness. You could feel the desperate twitch of his cock beneath you, rock hard and pulsing, straining against the fabric of his joggers ⸺ and it sent a flood of want coursing through your own veins.
âYou want to come for me?â you murmured, voice low and thick with promise, lips brushing the shell of his ear. âWant to fill me up, baby?â
His response was a guttural groan ⸺ long, desperate, and utterly broken. It was the sound of a man undone, unraveling at the edges in the best possible way.
âYes. Fuck yes,â he begged, voice ragged and soaked with need. âPlease, please let me, please let me come. I need to feel you around me, I canât hold on ⸺ â
You pressed your palm flat against his chest, feeling the frantic, uneven beating of his heart beneath your hand, wild and ragged, mirroring your own racing pulse.
âThen let go,â you whispered, voice soft but insistent. âLet me feel you.â
That was all it took.
Arthurâs body arched sharply beneath you, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as he came with a raw, shuddering intensity ⸺ hips bucking uncontrollably, fingers digging into your skin as his breath hitched and broke in ragged gasps. The warmth of him flooding inside you was exquisite and overwhelming, a molten wave that left him trembling and breathless.
âOh, fuck,â he panted, face buried against your shoulder, voice cracked and raw. âI can feel every inch of you ⸺ so tight, so warm ⸺ God, I ⸺ â
You held him close, cradling his head against your chest as his body shook with the force of his release, fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck, soothing him as he slowly came down from the edge. His breath was hot and ragged against your skin, mingling with the faint scent of his sweat and aftershave, intoxicating and utterly his.
His eyes fluttered open, glassy and luminous, lips swollen and trembling with exertion, curls damp and clinging to his damp forehead.
He cupped your face gently, thumb brushing along your cheek as he whispered, voice low and thick with emotion, âFuck, I love you so much. So much.â
You smiled, heart swelling as you leaned in, nose brushing his softly. âI love you too, Arthur.â
And he kissed you again. slow, deep, reverent ⸺ a kiss full of everything his words couldnât say, still trembling with the aftershocks of desire and love that you and only you could bring out in him.
'why is she talking bad when she went through something like this?' oh yeah because i FUCKING CAN?
genuinely trying to shame people for their past or trauma or headspace is disgusting - and you've made yourself look like a bigger arse than any of us do.
tumblr used to be such a safe space where id enjoy posting my work and interacting with other fabulous writers, and hence why im devastated that this person *ahem* lana clarke has shared something that violates so many people and their stories.
i will be taking a break, as this has rattled me - what she says about me fazes me less than the sheer nerve to talk shit abiut others.
please, respect other people who have been affected by this and report the account, block anything you can.
love to all my other gorgeous writers and others who have been affected by this.
first and foremost DO NOT READ IT! it contains private information shared by members of the network. All the information shared was between friends and people who have trust and love for each other.
âlanaâ claimed we kicked her before asking about the pictures. let me give you some context for that one. she said they were posted on her pinterest. mind you, this person said her name was lana. the pictures one of our members stumbled upon on pinterest were posted by a girl named anna and linked to her instagram. which stated she was 20. and iâm sorry - but why would you claim to be 18, born in 2007 but then have your instagram say youâre 20? not to mention she told us she is from australia and shared a picture of her in swim wear on the beach, saying she went to the beach when itâs currently winter in australia.
we kicked her because we suspected catfishing. she had every chance to defend herself - i never blocked her on discord. and i hadnât blocked her on here up until a few days after the kick.
now whatâs really concerning - the private stories she shared had been posted after we had kicked her. which means someone either decided to share them with her OR she has a second account she never disclosed and joined through that. which, i think we can all agree on, is insane.
for that reason, I have kicked everyone from the server for now, adding people back after a throughout discussion with my co-admin.
whatever the fuck is going on, i can and will not stand for it. oh, and the âtalking bad about ppl behind their backs?â bffr - we criticised someone for using ai to write their fics - if you donât see anything wrong with that⌠thatâs a you problem.
iâm very sorry to all of our members for this happening, i am truly dumbfounded and horrified. well message you all once weâve sorted out what to do.
this is such a horrible thing to be going on atm, i am so sorry for anyone who has had their personal stories shared online by this account, and i am so sorry that somewhere we aimed to be a safe space has been torn down by someone with cruel intentions like this.
please block their account and donât interact with their posts.
ily all and i hate having to make a serious post like this - i hope everyone who was in the server is okay and especially those who had their private matters shared online due to petty vindictiveness.
Random request that isnt smut lol but imagine arthur and reader are neighbors (maybe reader has just moved in so they don't know each other yet) and reader is playing an instrument a bit too loud. But arthur needs it to be quiet for a video or something similar. And he meets her for the first time...?
it was too much to take. that was what arthur should have said last week, when he heard the mournful noise of cello through his walls whilst he was sat in his office, snipping through clips for a vlog with a half eaten bowl of pasta next to him, growing colder as he moved to take a bite once every five or so minutes.
he had let it grate on him. at first, he told himself it was nice. the music was beautiful - soft, haunting cello pieces wasn't exactly the worst noise a neighbor could be making, his days at university sharing halls with people who were less than quiet after nightclub hookups were an all too familiar reminder of this, and he tried to count himself thankful, thinking 'at least it's not drums'.
but there was only so much gratitude he could play to the new soundtrack of his apartment.
this week had crossed a line - he was trying to film now, not just editing. he had set up his lighting precariously, plugged in too many wires to his camera, mic, laptop and ran through the intro too many times before the moment he pressed the red button to film, a crescendo-wail making him jump in his chair, followed by a pinch of the bridge of his nose.
a frustrated sigh slipped his mouth, one hand gripping into a fist a little too tight, his knuckles slightly whitened. before he could do a double-take to think rationally, something he prided himself on doing, he was standing up and storming out of his office, padding down his hallways with intention and yanking open his front door.
irritation was fueling him as he walked through the landing, before coming to a stop, staring at the apartment door - 32A.
he lifted his arm to the door, his knuckles connecting with the cold wood in three sharp taps. he heard the music pause, and prepared himself to unleash a cold-and-firm-yet-still-polite-enough barrage of complaints.
but when the door opened, standing in the doorway was a person arthur hadn't seen before. the softer lighting from her apartment compared to him bathed the figure in front of him - hair pulled in a messy style, held together by a clip in the back, strands fallen in front but pulled behind the ears, a shirt that was larger than her, with the faded print of a band covered her, with shorts peeking from underneath. it was her eyes that were interesting though, wide and slightly startled, lashes curled around the tops.
arthur's built up wall of annoyance crumbled before him, and as he opened his mouth in an attempt to at least say something about the noise, the only thing that could leave was a breathless
"oh."
he watched the girl blink for a moment, an apologetic smile forming on her lips, before looking down at her own hand - a dark wooden bow with tightly wound string still in her grasp.
"oh, hi!" she said in return, her voice flustered and softer than he would have expected, "was.. was i too loud? i'm so sorry, i just moved in and i was told the walls were quite thick but, well.. i guess not if you could hear, and i mean, i get kind of carried away when i'm, y'know.." she gestured back into her apartment, a marred blush painting her cheeks as she shifted her weight slightly.
arthur found himself looking at the bow in her hand again, before following towards her hands, her slender fingers cradling it protectively before he managed to pull himself away from this weird captivisation and clear his throat. "no, no, it's.. it's fine," he stammered out, a blatant lie considering he was initially coming here filled with rage enough to snap the bow in half. "i just... i'm arthur, your neighbor on this side," he nodded with his head for a moment, sticking his hand out to shake.
a smile bloomed on her face as she quickly swapped the bow into her other hand, and shook his hand. it was small and warm, arthur thought.
"hi, arthur, i'm y/n! it's lovely to meet you, even if i get the feeling you were coming here 'cause i was being too loud..." she laughed, though slightly nervous, a light and warming sound better than any of the cello he had been hounded with over the past two weeks. "i'll, um, try and keep it down, especially when... well, whatever you were doing," she said sweetly, looking down at his dark green hoodie, a silently asked question in her expression.
he managed to collect himself for a moment, a sheepish smile falling on his face, "right, well.. um, i was filming a video, for youtube, i... yeah, for my channel. gotta be pretty quiet for that, unfortunately.." he said softly, gesturing back to his apartment haphazardly, "but, seriously, it's fine, i should have left a letter through your door or something, rather than storming over here like some lunatic," he joked lightly, feeling rather awkward at his stomping through the hallway now. he had been completely disarmed and he didn't even know how it had happened.
"youtube! that sounds cool," she exclaimed, the enthusiasm in her voice made his cheeks warm a little more, "i mean, i've never watched much on there, besides tutorials, but i have a brother who watches everything on youtube," she giggled a little, the last remnants of her initial fluster disappearing, before her eyebrows creased for a moment,
"actually, if you like we could make, like a schedule? i'd hate to accidentally ruin a video or something.. or even if you'd like, you could just give me a text or something, you know, like 'hey, i'm filming now, put down the bow or i'll slit your throat'," she bit her lip for a moment, looking back up at arthur, "i'd hate to be that neighbor, you know?"
"that's.. that's really thoughtful, and sounds like a good idea," he said, feeling genuinely relieved, "yeah, that would actually be amazing. i film mostly at night, to be honest.. maybe not the best work schedule but that's when the building is usually quieter, less racket... not that your playing is racket, it's beautiful actually, just not great on the mic.." he explained quickly, ruffling his hand through his already dishevelled hair.
"night filming, huh? that almost sounds like you do an entirely different job.. though, i suppose they both call for a webcam," she grinned at her comment for a moment, and she watched his cheeks turn a little red at her crude joke, "sorry, was that a little..?" she trailed off, worriedly, as if worried for offending him.
he laughed back in response, "no, no, you're good... what, you don't think people would pay for that?" he teased back in response.
her laugh rang through again, and the sound was some kind of dazing lull to arthur, like some form of hypnosis he didn't even believe in until now.
"so, the schedule.. maybe easier if we take each others numbers for that? unless you have a talent for morse code on the walls," she said softly, eyes sparkling with amusement.
"yeah, i can pop my number in your phone," he said with a small smile, watching as she pulled her phone from her pocket, a slightly older phone, with a case covered in stickers and the screen with a small crack running through it as she passed it over to arthur, and he tapped his number in, saving himself as "Arthur - Neighbor/Camboy" and watching the grin curl on her face as she read his name in her contacts.
"so, is it professional, the cello? or a hobby? 'cause it really is brilliant, so.." he asked, tilting his head slightly.
"god, i wish professional.. semi-professional i guess is the right word - there isn't much demand for cello really, so i do some work when there is anything available, but i have a day job, just work from home reports and stuff, cause as much as i love it, cello isn't the instrument to pick if you want it to pay the bills," she laughed a little softly, a restrained sort of smile. "i teach some kids, also, and that is so nice to do.. you know, it's no big stage, but watching some of them get a good bowing technique, or a tricky transition note? it's kind of adorable and satisfying. so, i mainly play for myself, i suppose - relaxes me... though, i suppose it also helps me annoy my new neighbors..." she playfully said, and arthur almost felt his heart melt.
"that.. sounds so sweet, honestly. that's intense patience to teach kids, and semi-professional stuff, i mean, it takes a lot to pursue something that you genuinely love when there isn't really an easy path for it," he said, and he felt himself just in awe. when she opened the door, he was shut up quickly by her looks, but hearing how much she had a passion for something had him staring wide eyed like a love-sick puppy.
"yeah, i love it.." she said softly, looking back in her apartment for a moment, "um, if you'd like, to save the chatting in the hallway, you could come in for a cuppa? if you're not busy, that is," she said, inviting smile invading her face.
he looked back at his apartment for a second, and thought of the recording stuff, all set up and waiting for him, then looked back at the girl in front of him, the same wide eyes that greeted him when she first opened the door, and his mind was made up.
