-Day 2-
Distracted today. By her. Gwen. I pretty sure I dreamt of her last night. It was quite a good dream. I haven't had one like… that in some time.
At least my father has left me alone most of the day, which is good. But I still didn't get as far on my plans for the new recreation center in the lower town. They stare accusingly up at me from my drafting table; my pencils in a row, waiting for their orders like tiny knights.
Her smile drifts into my memory and I smile. Then I frown.
Only Day Two and I'm already worrying about Day 60. I think this one may be more difficult than Elena was.
She was difficult to break up with. Not like how Vivian was difficult, but I didn't actually want to break up with her. She was fun, vibrant, and smart. Her father was even a decent chap. She was a horse breeder, which was interesting. I could have continued dating her.
Haven't thought of her in months, though. I think I heard from my father that she'd moved away. Took a job at a horse racing track somewhere, I guess.
I hope she's happy.
But Gwen is different, even from Elena. There is something… refreshing about her. When I talked to her I could tell that she wasn't putting on airs or trying to impress me in any way. And that is what impresses me. Usually I just smile at a bird and she melts. Gwen fluttered, but she didn't melt.
This is going to be difficult.
"Arthur?"
I look up. "Father?"
"It's past five o'clock. Are you staying late?"
"Is it already? I guess I lost track of time," I say. Been busy daydreaming about the newest woman whose heart I'll have to break.
"Join me for dinner?"
Ugh. "Rain check," I say. "Feeling a little out of sorts."
"You broke up with Vivian, didn't you?" he asks, but it's not really a question.
I nod.
"Arthur, when are you going to settle down, stop with this endless string of women?"
When your daughter frees me from this curse. "I don't know, Father. I'm not going to just… settle," I say with a shrug.
"Well, I liked Vivian. Pity you couldn't make a go of it."
He has no clue how tiresome that girl is. He's chums with her father, though, so he was supportive of my dating her. "She's got no brains at all," I tell him, brushing past him as I walk out of my office.
I'm going home, make myself a cup-o-noodles, and then I'm going to call Gwen. Not because I have to, but because I want to.
And because I have to.
xXx
It's nearly half seven, so I pick up my mobile and scroll to her number. As I listen to it ringing, a brief moment of panic seizes me as I wonder if she gave the correct number.
"Hello?" It's the correct number. I recognize her soft, slightly smoky voice immediately.
"Hello, Gwen? This is Arthur. We met yesterday, at—"
"Yes, my supermarket stalker, hello," she says brightly. The smile in her voice makes me smile. "Calling the very next day, that's not usual behavior for a man," she teases.
"You're lucky I didn't call you last night," I tease back. I did consider it.
"And why does that make me lucky, exactly?" she asks.
"Um," I hedge, scrambling for an answer. This girl is sharp. Quite a change from Vivian. I'd call her and all I would have to do is say "mm-hmm" once in a while and she'd be happy as a clam.
Then she laughs, and I give up on answering. She's letting me off the hook.
"How were your noodles?" I ask.
"Noodles?"
"The rice noodles I retrieved from the top shelf for you. Were they good?"
"I haven't eaten them yet, actually."
"Oh. So what do you do with those, anyway? I mean, to prepare them. I've eaten them, but in their raw form, well, they kind of look like plastic."
She laughs again. "Yes, they do, a bit. They're actually easier to cook than regular noodles. Even a simple man such as yourself could do it, I'd wager."
Teasing me again. I love it, I realize. Vivian was crap at banter. Probably because she didn't understand most of my jokes. "Oh? You think so? Because I'm still kind of working on getting my thumbs to, you know, oppose." She laughs again, so I keep going. "I'm actually a little worn out from just trying to operate my mobile so I could phone you. What with only being able to mash the keypad with my fist and all."
"Do you fling your poo at perceived threats?" she asks, still laughing. Poo jokes already? I am so loving this.
I laugh. "Only sometimes. But you are lucky that I just didn't club you and drag you off to my cave by your hair yesterday."
"Once again, why does that make me lucky?"
Wow. Um. Yes. I guess she's interested.
"Um," is all I can manage again. She laughs again. I think she enjoys rendering me speechless.
"So what are you up to this evening, good sir?" she asks, changing gears again.
"Well, I worked today, which was meh, and then I came home, had a gourmet meal of chicken flavored cup-o-noodles, and then I rang you up," I say, settling back on my couch.
"Cup-o-noodles, really, Arthur? If you can do that, you can definitely cook rice noodles."
"Are you a good cook? Perhaps you could teach me to cook sometime," I say. Bait the line, and throw it out there.
"Perhaps," she says, evasive but a little flirty. A nibble. "Work not great today, though? Don't you like your job?"
"I do, actually. I was just distracted today, that's all."
"Oh? By what?"
"You. I was distracted thinking about meeting you yesterday," I say quietly.
"You were not," she says, trying to be dismissive, but I can tell she's smiling and likely blushing.
"I was. Got precious little done."
"What do you do?"
"I'm an architect at Pendragon, Inc."
"Ooo, posh," she says. "I've heard that Uther Pendragon is a bit of a tyrant. Is he difficult to work for?"
Oh, darling, if you only knew. Well, you're about to learn. "He is a bit of a tyrant, yes. He's also my father."
"Oh, my goodness, I—"
"And he is a right pain in the arse to work for," I finish, ignoring her apology.
"Oh. But surely, being his son…?"
"That just means he's extra hard on me because he expects more. Most of the time I do fine, though. Thankfully, I'm actually pretty good at my job. Despite the lack of opposable thumbs, of course."
She laughs again. "Have you done anything I might have seen?"
"Well, the firm designed the rebuild of Camelot General after it burned down in that stupid wyvern attack a few years ago," I say. "I did the entrance to the Emergency Ward."
"Wow," she says. She sounds genuinely impressed.
"And now I'm working on designs for a new recreation center in the lower town. You know, where they knocked down that strip mall?"
"Oh, is that what's going there?" she asks.
"Mm-hmm." This girl is very easy to talk to. "So, Miss Gwen, what is it that you do with your days?"
"I am an independent business owner," she says proudly.
"Oh, really? What kind of business?"
"I design and make jewelry. I have my own shop and everything."
"That's really cool," I say. Because it is. Then I remember her ring. "I saw that ring you had on yesterday. Did you make that?"
"Yes, I made it."
"It was beautiful. I've never seen anything like it."
"Thank you. I'm surprised you noticed it," she says. I imagine she's wearing it now, and is currently looking down at it on her hand, watching how the silver glints against her brown skin.
"To tell you the truth, when I meet an attractive woman, one of the first things I look at are her hands."
"Really? Why?"
"To check for signs of a wedding ring, obviously," I say, grinning into the phone.
She laughs. "Of course."
"So what's your shop?"
"Guinevere's Goldwork, on Seventh."
"Guinevere? Is Gwen short for Guinevere?" I ask. That's a very pretty name.
"Yes, but no one calls me Guinevere."
"Why not? It's beautiful. Guinevere," I say again. I like saying it. I can almost taste it. Guinevere.
She's quiet for a moment. "Well, if people would say it like that, maybe I wouldn't mind," she admits softly. Her voice is almost breathy.
I find myself realizing that I don't want other people calling her Guinevere like that, if that's how she reacts.
Bloody hell, this is going to be a hard one.
We talk for a long time, conversation flowing easily. It doesn't feel like we just met for a few moments yesterday. She tells me about Sefa, her assistant, who is a sweet Druid girl. I tell her about my mate Leon, who also works for my father. We've known each other since we were boys. She hints at setting him up with Sefa, and I hesitate.
"What? Is he a troll?" she asks. "Because I assure you, Sefa is very pretty. She's a bit shy, but sweet."
"I'm sure she is, but Leon prefers his women to be men," I say, chuckling.
"Oh! Well, then, never mind…" she trails off, laughing again.
I love making her laugh, just so I can hear her laugh. I love that she teases me whenever she possibly can. I love how forward and confident she is. I love how smart she is. And not just smart, but clever as well.
When we finally ring off, it's nearly ten. I don't remember the last time I talked on the phone to anyone for this long, let alone a girl. I also don't remember the last time I had such a fun conversation.
I look at my mobile. The battery is at 25%. I toss it lightly on the coffee table and lean back, throwing my arm over my eyes, pressing down until I see red starbursts against the blackness, almost as though I'm trying to squeeze my own head until it pops.
I'm scared.
A/N: Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Merlin.
