🐱

That’s not to say your connection with him is boring—oh no. Arthur quite literally crashed into your world at Pogo’s Comedy Club one night after tripping into your table and sending your drinks flying onto the ground around you. Since then, your relationship with him has been a whirlwind of comfortable discussions, movie nights, and private comedy show’s containing Arthur’s best jokes.

And because of that, you’ve put absolutely no effort into stopping your heart from calling him near.

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

You glance up to see Arthur’s neighbor Sophie standing in front of you with a smirk. Her brown eyes flicker with amusement as she leans against the wall of the building’s lobby.

“Sorry, Soph,” you smile sheepishly. “I was thinking.”

She gives you a knowing look before asking, “What about?”

“You know, just life things,” you shrug, trying to move past her towards the elevator that will take you to Arthur’s floor.

“Life stuff? I believe I’m familiar with that,” she chuckles, following you. “Does this ‘life stuff’ have anything to do with the long-haired, awkward clown from upstairs?”

“He’s not…awkward,” you tell her, pushing the button to the floor and leaning back to look at her. “He’s a nice guy.”

“People can be awkward and nice, you know? The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Fine, he might be a little awkward, but he’s charming too,” you say, crossing your arms. “He’s really sweet and funny, and he cares about people, Sophie. It’s not like you and I are so perfect and—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” she interrupts you before putting a hand on your arm and giving it a squeeze. “I’m not trying to make fun of Arthur, okay? Relax.”

You sigh. “Sorry, people can just be so shitty to him that sometimes I forget not everyone is trying to be malicious.”

“It’s all good,” she smiles. “You gotta stick up for your boyfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, biting your lip. “My boyfriend.”

The elevator comes to a shaky stop, and the doors slide open with a piercing screech. You step out into the hallway and take a right, walking silently towards Sophie’s apartment.

After a few quiet seconds, she glances over at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Arthur’s apartment is back the other way,” she says, pointing past the elevator to the other end of the long hallway.

“I know, I just—” you stop, hesitating on your next words. “I need some advice.”

Sophie stays quiet, prompting you to continue, but the familiar feeling of embarrassment washes over you as you contemplate your next words to her.

“I’m sorry, I know you’ve got to get inside to your kid, and I’m taking up all your time,” you start, letting out a sigh of frustration. “It’s just—It’s Arthur. How do I talk to him about where we are in the relationship? You know, Soph, it’s been almost five weeks of us dating, and he hasn’t tried to kiss me at all. I realize he could just be shy, but I’m kind of worried that maybe he doesn’t actually have feelings for me.”

“Ha! Arthur doesn’t have feelings for you,” she snorts, her face only turning more serious once she sees your frown. “Y/N, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. That dude looks at you like you literally flew to space and hung the stars and sun yourself.”

You smile softly as Sophie continues to speak.

“If you’re worried about why he’s not kissing you, just ask him,” she shrugs. “What’s the worst that could happen? And if you don’t want to do that, just kiss him yourself. Maybe he’s the kind of guy who wants you to make a move first.”

“I guess I could kiss him,” you say skeptically before stopping to roll your eyes. “God, I feel like I’m in middle school.”

“I hear you,” she chuckles. “Dating never gets easier.”

You nod, stepping aside as Sophie unlocks her door and pushes it open. You thank her for her help, and she makes you promise to text her with updates on the ‘Arthur situation’ before she heads into her place, and you turn to walk back down the hallway to the opposite end.

When you reach Arthur’s door, you knock twice quietly, trying to be mindful of his mother, who’s usually napping around early afternoon. You listen carefully, and soon you can hear someone moving about inside. A few seconds later, the door opens up just enough for Arthur’s head to pop out from behind it.

“Hey,” you flash him a gentle smile, and he quickly steps back to open the door the rest of the way. “I didn’t mean to take so long, but I got caught in a conversation with Sophie.”

“That’s okay,” he says, letting you walk inside before shutting the door. “I was just helping my mom get into bed.”

You wait for him to join you on the couch before letting your arms snake around him in a hug, which he immediately returns.

“You’re so sweet with her,” you mumble into his shoulder. “She’s lucky to have a son like you.”

“Thank you,” he whispers, keeping the ambiance around you both hushed and relaxing.

As you hold him close, you feel Arthur’s steady breaths hitting your neck, and you realize for the first time since you’ve met him, he’s not erupting into uncomfortable, painful laughter after a compliment from you.

You pull back just enough to get a look into his eyes, but you only see warmth reflecting back at you. Suddenly, Sophie’s words from earlier are ringing through your ears. Just kiss him yourself. Maybe he wants you to make the first move. Just kiss him yourself. Just kiss him yourself.

For the three seconds it takes your lips to find his, you question whether Sophie’s advice was actually good advice. Still, as your lips finally collide into a soft kiss after weeks of waiting, the only other thought besides “Arthur” in your head is that you better write Sophie a thank you note.

You’re so caught up in Arthur’s taste overpowering all of your senses that you don’t even notice he’s not kissing back until you feel him tense up under your touch. You pull away gently, looking into his eyes, only to see that the warmth from earlier has been replaced by shock.

“Artie, are you okay?”

“I—I’m—” he stammers, his mouth twitching up into a smile.

On anyone else, it would have been endearing, but you’ve known him long enough to realize where this was going.

“Arthur,” you say in a low voice, backing up a few inches to give him some space on the cushioned couch. “What do you need?”

He covers his mouth, his head shaking, as short bursts of laughter sound through the apartment. You sit there, not wanting to ask him any questions that would only spur his condition along.

“S-sorry,” he breathes out between his laughs. “Not—not you.”

You nod sympathetically before walking to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water for him once he’s calmed down. As the sink water fills into the glass, you can hear Arthur’s wheezing turn into shallow breaths as he comes down from his attack.

You turn off the sink handle and walk back to the couch, placing the glass in front of him before taking your place by his side once again.

“Thank you,” he says for the second time that day after taking a few sips from the glass and returning it to the table.

“Are you okay?”

He nods, staying quiet.

“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady so you don’t launch him into another attack. “I should have asked if you were okay with it. I just figured it might be okay since it’s been a month since we started this.”

His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he looks off to another part of the room. You can tell he’s wracking his brain for something; you’re just not sure what, and before you can ask, he’s looking back at you.

“What did we start?”

“Huh?”

“What did we, um, start a month ago?”

“Oh,” you say in realization. “I just meant that we started dating a month ago.”

Arthur’s eyes go wide beside you, but you’re too focused on getting the words you want to say out that you don’t notice.

“I know we promised to take it slow,” you continue. “It’s just really hard to not kiss you. When you make jokes, and your whole face lights up, or when you talk about Carnival and the shows you get to put on for the kids at the hospital, or when you answer the door in your cute pajama pants and messy hair—I mean, just everything. Everything makes me want to kiss you, Arthur. So, when you didn’t kiss me, I thought maybe you didn’t actually want to date me. Maybe you just didn’t know how to say no?”

The room is dead silent for a few looming seconds before Arthur squeaks out, “We’re dating?”

You pause, thinking to yourself. Did he ask me that? Was that a question? You run your mind back over every interaction from the moment you met him until now, and nowhere can you find an explanation as to how you could have misinterpreted the friendship for romance. Everything Arthur has said—everything you have said—makes it perfectly clear that you two are romantically involved. Right?

“Um, yes,” you push out a little awkwardly, hoping this is one of Arthur’s weird jokes. When he doesn’t immediately crack a smile, and instead, you see his cheeks flush red, you realize you truly have found yourself in another situation—a big, ill-fated, uncomfortable situation. Without warning, your eyes glaze over with tears as you come to terms with how much you messed up and what this will mean for your future with the comedian.

“Oh, God, Arthur,” you groan, putting your head into your hands. “I’m so sorry. This is all a huge misunderstanding. I thought you knew.”

“Y/N, can you look at me,” Arthur gently pulls at your arm. “When—why did you think that?”

You sigh. “Last month, I asked you to dinner, remember? I tried to be very obvious that it would just be the two of us. We went to that Italian restaurant downtown. I mean, didn’t you notice that the lights were dim, there were flowers on every table, and every other person in there was with their partner? It was clearly a date-night spot.”

“I didn’t notice,” he says honestly. “I only noticed you.”

You smile, feeling heat spreading through your chest.

“And when we came back to your place,” you continue, “you told me you wanted to take things slow! We had that whole conversation about being hurt in the past, being new to relationships, and all that. I even asked if we were official! How could I not get the wrong idea?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking ashamed and embarrassed by his oblivious behavior. “I thought—I thought you meant as friends.”

You tear your eyes away from his as a fresh set of tears forms. You cannot believe you’ve just been dumped—well, not technically, but it sure felt like it. Instead, and more accurately, you’ve just found out that your romance with Arthur has been no more than a figment of your imagination essentially. Of course, our “dates” were nothing more than friendly outings, you think to yourself. The loving touches, soft hugs, and whispered compliments were nothing but exchanges between two emotionally stunted friends. How fucking embarrassing.

Before you can wallow in self-pity any longer, Arthur starts speaking again.

“Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head ‘no,’ but you both know you’re lying. “I just feel kind of stupid and like I took advantage of you.”

“You didn’t!”

You jump slightly at Arthur’s outburst, but your eyes stay trained on the floor in front of you as you talk. “I was being greedy for something that I never had in the first place.”

“You had me,” he says, almost begging with his words for you to meet his eyes again. “or—or you can have me.”

At that, you finally take a glimpse up, only to find that Arthur has shifted, so your noses are nearly touching once you catch his gaze.

“I can?”

He nods jerkily, emotions flashing across his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize before. I never thought you would want me like this.”

“I don’t know how anyone wouldn’t want you like this,” you tell him. “To be completely clear, I mean romantically.”

Arthur’s smirk at your joke slowly turns into a shy smile as he glances down at your lips that are only inches away from his. “Would it be okay if I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you chuckle as he closes the distance between you two. You cup his jaw, kissing him tenderly as he responds in kind. The kiss is a little clunky and awkward as you two try and figure each other out, but it’s easily the best kiss you’ve ever had.

By the time you finally pull apart, your heart is hammering in your chest, and your head’s a little dizzy from the feeling of Arthur’s lips on yours.

“Okay, and just to make sure,” you start, “I was kissing you with romantic intent. I have feelings for you.”

Arthur gives you a bewildered look. “You have feelings for me?”

“Wha—,” you stare at him for a moment, dumbfounded, before he breaks eye contact to try and gain control over his impending smile. You narrow your eyes in faux annoyance as you realize he’s only joking. “Oh, ha-ha. You think you’re so funny, Mr. Comedian, but you’re just an ass.”

“Well, maybe you will just have to convince me a little harder that we’re dating,” he smiles.