Cozy Corner💕

Arthur laughs. “You know, it's actually funny, but I kind of wish I'd gotten to know Lillith more.”

He can practically hear the snap of The Manager's neck as John tells him the entity is looking at him with a sudden glint of oddness in his eyes. Arthur can't imagine what for. Nevertheless, he continues on his train of thought.

“She was there for me at the end, you know. Even when she didn't have to be. I'd already played my part, she didn't need to save me. I suppose you didn't either. So thanks, I guess, to the both of you.”

A genuine smile breaks across his face. His cheeks hurt from the force of it. God, he can't remember the last time he smiled without a single care or worry. It felt freeing.

“Thank you for everything,” he smiles sincerely in the direction of The Manager.

It's gone quiet. Not awkward, just quiet. The silence begins to feel tinged along the edges. Like something is off.

Arthur's smile falls. Did something happen? But John would have told him if that was the case.

“Manager? Are you alr–”

Arthur, look out! The Manager is raising his arms to grab you! Wait no–he stopped. He…His face is twisting into itself. His fingers curl into fists and shake as if trying to control himself.

Arthur can hear heavy breathing, as if it's an effort for The Manager to just keep existing.

The Manager half laughs before stamping it down. “You're just–man, you're just hhnuurgh aren't you?” More heavy breathing before it slows to a normal pace. “Fucking catnip.”

He closes his eyes as he composes himself. He licks his lips and gives a glance down at–uh. He's staring at…uh–

“I'm what, John?” The Manager's voice cuts in, steely thin. Even his anger is different than Kayne's. Tightly controlled so nothing gets loose.

John has gone silent. Arthur has never been more confused. What just happened? He wants to ask but the air feels thin and he's afraid he'll break something if he speaks.

There's some rustling, the sleeve of a suit moving around followed by a soft swish. Arthur has to imagine The Manager running a hand through his hair as John provides no commentary.

“You're banned from the Waylay by the way.”

“What?” Arthur startles. “Why?”

“Your job is finished, Mr. Lester. No more freebies. No more escaping death. Now you have to deal with the one life just like everyone else.”

Arthur pauses. He supposed that made sense. His part in all this was over after all. He doesn't argue further. Perhaps this was for the best.

He can hear footsteps coming closer, getting louder. Arthur feels a presence stop before him. A light touch makes him tilt his head up. He doesn't flinch, though it does startle him. Rarely did people touch him nowadays without the intent to hurt or manipulate.

“You sure I can't interest you in a few upgrades before sending you off?” The Manager asks. “Maybe more eyes?”

“Why would I need more eyes?”

The Manager waves his free hand, or at least Arthur thinks he does. He can hear movement and it was an action very like him. “John is a god, Ar–Mr. Lester. He could see the infinite in his old body. And this one, though striking, is rather limited.”

No thanks. I'm good.

The Manager shrugs. “Well alright then.”

The hand lingers. As if imagining all the things it could do to him. All the things Kayne had already done.

Arthur feels like he's on the precipice of something. Some greater understanding. Lillith seemed to know. John probably did too. Something about how Lillith was so sure Kayne wouldn't be able to resist him. Something about Kayne offering Arthur a peaceful death on the beach with his daughter. Something about Kayne so desperately wanting Arthur to touch the stone and understand him. For someone–for Arthur specifically–to know him. To create a world where they would understand each other.

And for a tiny moment–back when he could picture Kanye's face as if he could actually see it, see the rotten longing on an ancient creature's face, the desire to know and be known–Arthur had genuinely wanted to. He saw that world that Kayne wanted, horrible as it was.

He hears The Manager swallow. A little puff of air blows out, delicately tracing his face in the way his hand did not.

And then he's gone. The warmth, the hand, everything. Arthur almost leans forward. He doesn't.

“So long, Arthur.”