After Arthur handed the ice cream back to Gwen the rest of the day went by like he was on a high. For once, he’d gotten a second chance with the prettiest girl he’d seen with ice cream. Work dragged on throughout the week, but that didn’t matter so much - when was the last time he’d felt this giddy? When was the last time he’d been on a date? As he washes his hair, he tries to remind himself to act like a normal person. Don’t talk too much. Ask her questions. Should he offer to pay for their dinner? Or was she the sort of girl who wanted to pay on the first date? How would he even bring that up? Maybe just a simple I’ll get the check if that’s alright with you. No really, I don’t mind– And if she insisted further after that, he’d let it be, not wanting to be too pushy. Thoughts continue to swirl while he dries his head and dresses well enough to make a decent first impression - khakis, not jeans, and a white button-up rather than a simple t-shirt.
However, once Arthur gets to his car, he worries that the little luck that came his way had run out. The engine would turn, but wouldn’t start. And then he’d stepped in the only corner of his yard that still had mud in it. The first Uber he’d called cancelled, claiming his home was too difficult to find, and the second one ran late. When he tried to call Gwen on his phone, he couldn’t get a decent enough signal to even send her a text message explaining the situation. When he finally gets to the florist, they’ve in the middle of closing up and only have a stock of wilting flowers they planned on throwing away. And as soon as Arthur gets back onto Main Street to go to Miku’s, the dark sky opens and his own personal rain cloud seems to follow him all the way to the restaurant.
He’s late. And not even fashionably late. He’s late enough for Gwen to have gotten up and left, late enough for her to have thought that he ghosted her or forgot about their plans or simply didn’t care. He doesn’t expect to see her at the restaurant, and as he passes by the windows at the front, he doesn’t see her face amongst the other families or couples enjoying their night far more than Arthur does. He’s still willing to go inside and ask the wait staff if they’ve seen her when Arthur, at last, spots her in the car park. “Gwen!” He calls out to her, thought at this point in the night, Arthur doesn’t expect her to turn around or pay him much attention. “I know I’m late – I’m sorry, you wouldn’t believe the night I had. But that’s…not really an excuse –” He holds out the flowers he’s still holding, which seem to fall apart in his hands. “I tried to get you something, but this was all they had left –” He offers her a meek smile but can’t imagine Gwen accepting the dying gift. “–Nevermind, I can just throw these in the trash.”
There’s something inside Gwen that wants to curl into a ball and just dramatically allow the rain to wash over her. She knows she shouldn’t be this upset over some guy she barely knew, and yet, she couldn’t help it. Whenever Gwen had seen Arthur, this gut feeling built up inside her, one that made her feel like whatever his deal was, it was something good, and she wanted to be there to experience it. Plus, someone like Gwen didn’t get stood up. She was confident and went after what she wanted, and if this was just some cowardly way of rejection, it stung worse than being direct.
She was about to give up, moving towards her car, when her name stops her in her tracks. Part of Gwen tells herself that she shouldn’t turn around. She’d given him enough chances, and if she was going to keep being let down, there was no reason to keep him around. She should keep going and keep her chin held high as she did so. But she didn’t. That gut feeling stirred within her, and Gwen turned around to see Arthur, soaking wet, holding the saddest bouquet of drenched flowers in his hand.
Gwen should be furious, or upset, or something. But she couldn’t help but surprisingly feel flattered at the offer. If he didn’t want to be on a date with her, Arthur wouldn’t have bothered showing up at all, and he especially wouldn’t have showed up in the rain. And no one had gotten her flowers before, at least not when they weren’t told or expected to. It didn’t matter what they looked like, or how late he was. What mattered was that he tried, and he was genuine about it. Gwen softly reached out and took the bouquet, a tiny smile appearing on her lips. “Come on, let’s get you out of the rain. Do you want to go have some coffee?”
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