14. Can I have this dance?
Gwen sniffled.
Arthur frowned.
"Gwen…."
"I'm fine."
He poked his head into the room.
Four days ago she was fired from her job for not being efficient enough and four days she had spent practically locked in her room. She wasn't crying (well, she didn't cry the whole time, she did do quite a bit when she had nothing to do); she was mainly just looking for new jobs and watching relationship videos on how to survive a bad break up. She had loved this job – the people she worked with, the way it worked, getting to interact with customers. It was pretty much Gwen's equivalent to a bad break up. She had been working at this place for a year and now they decided to throw her away, just like that. Arthur felt pretty horrible about the whole thing. Not like it was his fault, but still, it was horrible of them to just fire her like that and he felt horrible that he wasn't able to help.
"I can get you a job with dad –"
"I don't need a job," she murmured.
"Gwen, you can't just sit in your bed all day and mope," he said sternly, coming over to her bed and sitting down on the edge.
She reached over and turned up the volume on her classical music. She always listened to classical when she was upset or sad. Arthur sighed and leaned his head against the wall, placing a hand gently on what he guessed to be her leg. Carefully he drummed his fingers against the blanket to the beat of the song. Gwen pulled the blankets higher over her head and groaned. "Arthur…"
He interrupted her with a shush and started moving his toes. One two three, two two three, three two three, one two three. He pushed himself up from the end of the bed and went around to the front, pulling the blankets away from Gwen's face and holding out his hand.
"M'lady," he began, "can I have this dance?"
Reluctantly Gwen stood up. But they danced for hours.