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Arthur went to the mall that day, people watching. He waited, not wanting Cyrin to get suspicious of him. Thinking, planning, scheming… anticipating.
The next morning, he waited till about 10 before texting again.
Hey man, did you get that situation resolved yesterday? You seemed pretty down.
Cyrin looks at his phone, biting his lip. He looks up at his silent mother, if he didn’t know any better, he would think she was dealing with his sisters death, but her silence was just testimony to how torn up she was inside.
He sighs, I don’t know when it'll be resolved. It’ll take a long while to resolve it. He laughs softly at the statement, more like never. It was hard to imagine his life without his little sister pestering him about everything.
He closes his eyes, We can meet up about the apartment though.
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(thanks for the heads up. You've seen how active I am so youre good!)
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If you want to, I absolutely can, but no pressure. Just wanted to check on you, Cyrin.
So maybe they'd meet up after all.
Arthur dressed soft. Black sweater over denim, hair in its typical disheveled state. All the things to get Cyrin to feel comfortable with him. He waited on the response text, knowing that no matter how much Cyrin clamped down his feelings, he'd be having a lot of them, and that was an easy target for manipulation.
Cyrin reads the text, sighing softly. His father had advised him to take the offer, and Cyrin knew his father was thinking in the long term, not the short term.
I want to, it’s perfectly fine. I’ll be fine as well. Cyrin wondered if he said that more to reassure himself rather than Arthur. Probably, if he was being honest.
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How does lunch sound? Where do you like to eat?
Well. Bait taken. He'd be moved into the apartment soon, and Arthur could continue to worm his way into Cyrin's heart. Slowly but surely.
And once there… well.
Cyrin sighs, I’m fine with anything, just nothing too expensive.
He rubs his foot, trying to massage the muscles so they could cramp less once he started dancing. He’d thought about not dancing for a while, but the dancing distracted him. Made him feel normal, so after calls from his instructor trying to get him to come to the studio, he finally relented and went.
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First off, I'm paying so don't worry about cost. Secondly, how does that Italian place on Stanton St. sound? Meet you there around noon?
Arthur had to wonder how the family was handling the news coverage of the event. The sister's death had been the story for the last two days, of course, and Arthur got a small thrill out of knowing the uproar it had caused.
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2 is perfect. I'll see you there :)
2 would be just fine. He could wait a little longer.
….
2:00 rolled around and Arthur was at the Italian restaraunt, just waiting. They had good breadsticks, at least. He'd sat in a booth, facing the door, so he could see when Cyrin came in.
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Arthur gave him a smile as he walked up, though his face got more concerned as Cyrin sat down.
"I'm fine, but how are you?" The dancer looked tired, and upset, and just… drained. "You don't look ok…"
Cyrin laughs softly, smiling, “I’m fine. Just spent the morning dancing is all. I’m famished.” He eats the rest of the breadstick, humming to himself. Really though, Cyrin was exhausted, he probably shouldn’t have spent his little energy Dancing, but it had made him feel a little eater. Like things were maybe going to be okay.
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"… Good?" Arthur pushed the basket of breadsticks in his direction.
"Is that situation still bothering you?" he asked quietly, his eyes sympathetic.
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"Do-… do you want to talk about it?" Arthur kept his voice quiet, gentle.
It would be interesting to see if Cyrin would be open with him.
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"Yeah, about some poor girl they found yesterday morning. Seemed really-…" Arthur's eyes widened.
"Cyrin… family member? Friend?"
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Internally, Sixclaw was revelling in the obvious pain on Cyrin's face. Arthur kept a tight lid on that.
"Oh, buddy… I'm so sorry." He reached across the table and touched Cyrin's arm, gently. "Anything I can do for your family? I assume your parents are taking it pretty hard, huh?"
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Arthur retracted his hand and sighed.
"Well, if there's anything I can do, lemme know." Cyrin was not going to open up to him, and that's all there was to it.
"Down to business. When do you want to move in?" He'd had every intention of eating before they talked apartments, but Cyrin seemed intent on being frosty.
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Arthur shook his head. "I need a date. It's got to work for you. My calendar is open, so whenever you're able is what we'll go with." His voice gentled a bit. "I know you're busy grieving, and with a funeral and everything else, so as I said before, no pressure. You brought it up, though." He'd texted Cyrin to check on him, and the dancer had brought up the apartment as if he was looking to move in soon.
"Food?"
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Arthur shook his head. "Cyrin, I need a date. You've got to make a decision. If now isn't the time to make that, then don't make it, but you can't just say, 'oh whenever' and call it good."
He slid a menu across the table to Cyrin. "Get whatever you want, I'm buying." He smiled, his eyebrows quirking. "Dancing all day, huh? Probably good stress relief, right?"
Cyrin sighs, thinking for a moment, “I don’t know. . . Next week?” He shrugs, “I’m terrible at planning things, I go better when someone tells me stuff and I put it on my calendar. I’m too indecisive to plan stuff.” He grins.
“Yeah, it is, it’s very calming and usually, I forget what’s around me and I just. . . Well, I just dance. That probably sounds stupid.”
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"Sure, but you don't trust me, so I'm not making this decision for you." Arthur said quietly. "I get being terrible at planning. I guess get back to me when you have a date."
He smiled a little at Cyrin's description. "No, not in the least bit. That's what it's like for me out in the woods. Calming, the world goes away, and I can just… be."
