Charthur: Part II

Arthur groaned in exasperation. ”I didn’t snoop! I don’t have any interest in your fucking closet. I just wanted to find my way out of it.” He said. He glared at her back as she stormed out. She was really pissed – Arthur didn’t get why. It wasn’t his fault he got lost. He followed her out of the closet – thankful for the sanctity of her room. It was so odd... how did one room hold all of that closet? He turned to watch the door close behind them. He then focused on Chardonnay.

She was gone, downstairs now. He followed her down, staring at the fish. She was insisting it was dead and he would hope so. ”...is it supposed to be alive?” he asked her, slowly approaching the fish. Nothing looked awful about it. It smelt good, as did anything she cooked. When she snapped and said fuck you to him he scoffed. ”Hey! Why the fuck are you so mad?” He groaned and lazily put the fish on his place, with the side dish on the side of it. He poked the juice with a spoon. ”What -- hey! Princess! What is... this? Just fish sauce?”

Arthur stared at her. Her retort made him frown. ”Come on, Princess. I was asking a serious question.” He said. When she said something about Jerusalem avocado he poked it with a spoon. When she said it wasn’t come he glared at her. ”Yeah, I figured as much, because you haven’t got any access to any cum. Unless you’re getting it from some other guy,” he snapped back. He took some of the suspicious sauces and put them beside his fish, and joined her at the table.

His plate looked different than hers, but he was sure it’d taste the same. He took a small bite of the fish, which didn’t taste alive. It was pretty good, the weird white sauce definitely tasted like avocado (not that Arthur had that often). He glanced at her ferocious expression and knew she would hate anything he said to her. ”I don’t know what you’re talking about, the fish being dead being a problem. It tastes good to me. Good and dead. The way I like my fish.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. ”You’re not seriously making me eat some random guy’s sperm. You’re too selective for just some random sperm. I had to be the finest shit available. Hell, you never consume sperm, which is why you never swallow,” He rolled his eyes when she intensely glared at him and pointedly ate the fish. ”It’s avocado puree. Not semen.” Feeling more confident in that, he took a bite of the food.

At her explanation, his brows rose and his jaw parted slightly. ”You’re joking. You throw away perfectly good food just because it’s a little cooled off? That’s a huge waste.” How the fuck – imagine all of the people she could feed with that just slightly cooled off food! He shook his head. At least let the servers eat it or something. He knew she was wasteful at times, but that? It pissed Arthur off. All of that wasted food, when there was no real reason to throw it away. He focused on the food before him. This tasted fine. There was nothing bad about it. Had this been her restaurant, would she have thrown this dish away?

When she said this wasn’t sushi Arthur made a face. ”Good. I don’t do sushi.” He said. ”I like fish cooked, thanks. If it’s raw it’s practically swimming in my mouth.”

Arthur knew she’d bring it around on him, so he didn’t blush as badly as he would have had she caught him off guard. He still blushed when she mentioned him getting any on her, though. ”Hey, I wasn’t complaining. I was just saying how I know that it’s not jizz in this bowl.” He said. ”I didn’t say I had any problem with that.” Except the fact he hadn’t gotten any in a while, but that wasn’t something he was about to bring up – he didn’t want to look like some sex crazed jerk. Besides, she was pregnant, and definitely not in the mood to give him anything right now.

He shrugged, taking another bite of the fish. He was only halfway done with it but he already felt full. He didn’t like to waste food though, and given the conversation, he was trying to eat as much as he could. ”Well, you could always do something other than throw it away. Give it to someone else who could eat it. I know it’s not the same, but when we have leftover popcorn or slushie mix I let my employees take it when their shift is over. I’d rather let them eat it than throw it away,” He shrugged. But she wasn’t going to listen to him on anything. ”Yeah, yeah. I get it. You run a fancy place. I know when Susan was working as a waitress, she’d always bring home extra food. Half the time, that was our dinner.” He shrugged. ”Worked out pretty good for us.”

Arthur scoffed. ”Honestly I couldn’t picture it.” He said, honestly surprised that she allowed her staff to take some of the food home. So maybe she wasn’t quite as wasteful as he initially pegged her for. He still didn’t get the purpose of throwing away food that wasn’t spoiled or rotten. The whole freshest ingredients parts were lost on Arthur. As long as it was edible and not spoiled he really didn’t see why there was a reason not to use food. He rose his eyebrows at her.

’Right.” He said. He didn’t understand the restaurant business, or how she could order food and gauge how much she would need for the next week. He supposed it was somewhat similar with popcorn but it wasn’t as though he needed to worry about it going bad – they got rid of old popcorn each night and washed down the containers so they were ready for fresh popcorn the next day. He couldn’t eat any more of his fish and put his fork down, only a little bit left. That wasn’t terribly bad, he thought. He was just used to eating small portions. ”I still don’t get the purpose of tossing food that’s cooled off a little bit. Who wants to eat food that’s so hot they can barely taste it?’ he shrugged. ”I prefer my food cooled off a little bit, anyway.”

Arthur shrugged when she said it was a standard – one he certainly didn’t get. He got getting what you paid for, but the extravagant meals and dinners just didn’t seem appealing to Arthur at all. ”I can tell. Well, the meat thing I get. That’s part of the preparation. It’s just the disposing of edible food I don’t get.” He said. It just seemed like a huge waste of money to him, though he knew the more he insisted that the more likely it was Chardonnay would just up and kick him out. So, he just got up and headed towards the sink. He just now saw the status of it – how dirty she left it – and knew her plan was to force him to clean it up. He grabbed gloves from the drawers and slid them up over his arms.

”Let me guess, your next command is to make me clean?” He looked over his shoulder at her, already started the water. He grabbed the first pan and began to scrub it with soap. ”...Thanks for dinner. By the way.” He half-mumbled, barely audible over the sink.

Arthur thought taking initiative might give him brownie points. He was very wrong. When she chastised him for forgetting hers he rolled his eyes. ”You were still eating.” He said. He continued to wash the dishes with ease. It was always a pain to clean but honestly, Arthur sort of liked it. It gave his mind things to focus on, and in the end, he felt better about his surroundings. One of the hardest things he’d discovered as a teenager was that when he was in a messy environment, his depression was worse. So cleaning, keeping things organized and neat, helped him feel better. He honestly didn’t mind cleaning up after Chardonnay’s mess even if he knew she was doing this deliberately.

When she informed him he would be couch bound that night, Arthur glared at her. ”I’m wat?! Come on, princess! Why am I sleeping on the couch?” He asked. He’d done nothing. Nothing!

He watched her storm off to her room and glowered after her, but focused on the dishes. 20 minutes later everything was done and the kitchen was clean. He then folded up the gloves and put them away, walking towards Chardonnay’s bedroom. E leaned his hip against the doorway, folding his arms over his chest. She was on her laptop, on her bed.

”Why am I stuck on the couch?” He deadpanned. ”If you’re going to kick me to the couch, I might as well just go home.”