Diarmuid continued to answer all the questions that Arturia shot at him. There were some simple questions like date of birth and age, then there were others that were a bit difficult; what type of woman does he like, what would he consider his perfect date… it was one odd interview.
"Are you certain that is all you need?" Diarmuid asked, head slightly leaning to the side as he pouted his lips.
She gave a nod, looking over some of the papers she had previously been organizing, "I would think that is all."
"Right," he smiled and stood from the seat, "Are we still having the shoot tomorrow?"
"Yes," she looked back up from the papers, green eyes analyzing his smile, "We would. Are you free tomorrow? Or rather, would you be working at the Auto Repair tomorrow?" She thought to ask, "As I have mentioned, I would like to get a couple of shot of you there, the atmosphere really suits you."
"Thank you?" He furrowed his brows, tucking the chair inside the desk.
Her features softened from their usual stoic expression, "It was a compliment." She assured, her lips curling slightly.
"I will be working there if I would not need to for you." He responded.
"Perfect."
He turned to leave after bidding his farewell and after the first step, his stomach growled—loud and clear for anyone in the room to hear it (which only happened to be Arturia).
Arturia stood as well, "I kept you from your dinner plans, it would the least for me to invite you out for dinner." She blinked.
Diarmuid turned, a blush on his cheeks and an embarrassed laugh escaping his lips as he watched her settling her blazer, "I very much apologize for that." He stammered.
The female shrugged, her blazer slipping off one of her shoulders, "What would you like to eat?" she opened a cupboard and pulled out her wallet, the small smile on her face still.
"I could not possibly—"
"My sister owns a restaurant; she is head chef; I am certain she would love to have you dine at her place." Arturia interrupted, "Plus, I was hungry myself, and it is always nice to have company while having dinner; it makes one's food much more pleasing."
He rubbed the back of his neck, indecisiveness taking the better of him.
"I insist." She stepped towards him, now standing only a couple of feet away, "I assure you that you will not regret it."
Diarmuid could only describe her to be confident, graceful and swift. She was the very definition of Prowess; her sleek stride, gallant in her way, eyes locked ahead of her as if aiming for the future and ready to battle anything that stood in her way of success or integrity.
He followed her out of the office admiring her dignity. They bid Jeanne a farewell as she packed up her things and she returned the gesture.
The elevator rang as they reached the bottom floor of the Pendragon Agency and they crossed the lobby, not failing to catch the attention of many onlookers, catching a glimpse of their CEO and her new model as they made their way out of the building.
"The Round Table?" His eyes grew as they arrived before the restaurant, "Your sister owns the Round Table?"
Arturia gave a curt nod, "In fact, I named it." She smirked.
He quickly opened the door for her, allowing her in before following her again. They were seated in no time, a waitress dressed in a black dress and white cravat eyed the man a couple of times before leaving after having taken down their orders.
Diarmuid was in awe as he looked around, he could barely believe his eyes that he was sitting in such a fancy restaurant. There were chandeliers above them, hanging as they lit the hall. The china plates before them catching his eyes and the smell of food cueing his stomach to growl again. He sighed, smiling at the thought of the food.
There was lively chatter that grew with every second and before he could even look in the direction of the sound, he heard another voice, much closer now.
"Sister, dear." The heavy country accent of the British female was evident in those two simple words. "I see you brought a guest."
Diarmuid looked up to see a dark-haired female. It looked as if she had just let her hair free from a bun, it was wavy and twirled. Pastel green eyes looked down at him, nearly glimmering, while hands were grasped together as if in prayer. The woman wore a white robe—a chef outfit.
"Morgana, how are you?" Arturia leaned back on her seat.
Morgana flickered her gaze towards her sister for mere seconds before turning back to her companion, "I am well." She answered quickly, "Who did you bring along today?"
Diarmuid extended his hand, "My name is Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, a pleasure to meet such a talented chef as you, I have heard your restaurant is the best in London."
Morgana grinned, "I like this one," she took his hand while she looked back at her sister, "He's a keeper." She winked.
Arturia raised brow, "I do not plan on giving him up; he is the most handsome model I have met."
Diarmuid shifted in his seat, the eyes upon him making him slightly uncomfortable. He managed an embarrassed smile as Arturia blinked at him.
"Did you two order the Chef's Special?" Morgana spoke, eyes finally drifting from the man.
Arturia nodded, "As much as I would not like to admit it, your food is delicious."
A proud smirk lit the brunette's face, "I knew that. Well," she lifted her hands, tying her wavy hair back up, "after I serve you, I would love to come and join you, would I be welcomed?"
The blonde shrugged, her green gaze landing back on Diarmuid.
"Uh," he gulped, "of course, it would be an honour to dine with you."
Morgana grinned, "Yes," she nodded, "I definitely like this one." She clapped her hands and turned about. "I will be with you shortly."
Diarmuid watched as Morgana strode back to the kitchen—a stride like her sister's, but Arturia's was much more… royal-like. It was odd, Morgana looked nothing like Arturia, save for the eyes—but they were also a different shade. Morgana stood much taller than the five-foot female, dark long wavy hair to her waist, skin as pale a china and what struck him the most about her was the different accent.
"I," Arturia snapped him out of his thoughts, "apologize for my sister, she can get a bit carried away at times." The woman sipped from the water glass on the table.
Diarmuid shook his head, "She was actually rather delightful."
She laughed, "In front of others. Behind closed doors she's a bit of a…handful."
They spoke a bit more about Morgana and how she came to be a chef. Diarmuid learned that Morgana was her half-sister and older. He also learnt that Arturia's father was a wealthy earl that used to be a politician but retired from the profession a few years prior. It was odd to see a different side of his boss, but it was calming.
Arturia crossed her legs, hands on her lap, "What does your brother do for a living?" She asked, her green eyes blinking.
"He…" Diarmuid sighed, "is a professional trouble maker."
Arturia lifted her brows, leaning towards him a bit, "There is such a thing?"
Chuckling, he shook his head, "No, he is actually a personal trainer but he likes to get into trouble a lot. While I have to be the one to get him out of it."
"Oh," she giggled, "are you the eldest?"
"No," he again shook his head, "sadly I am not. If I were, I would not be in this mess."
"Mess?" Arturia was intrigued, blinking at him in patience.
Diarmuid ran a hand through his hair, "Well," he began, "I do not mean to offend you but the real reason that I accepted your scouting offer is because my brother had a debt that he hoped I would help him on… I would like to believe that you were somewhat like a knight in shining armour."
She blushed. Her cheeks blooming as if they were roses, eyes almost sparkling and her heart pounding, "Uh...uhm, I…uh…"
"You really helped me out a lot." He mumbled as he looked down at the table, "Wow, this food is taking a while, don't you think so?" When he lifted his head again, she could also see a blush also dusting his cheeks.
"There she is," Arturia cleared her throat once she saw her sister come through the swinging door with the food in her hands, stably balanced.
Morgana set the food before them, opening the bottle of wine and pouring them all a glass, "What did I miss?" She smiled at both, seeing the blush on their faces as it slowly faded.
"We were speaking of his older brother," Arturia said, her eyes set on the food before her.
Morgana's eyes lit up, "You have an older brother? Is he anything like you?"
"Quite the contrary," Diarmuid replied, picking up his fork.
"I would love to meet him." The brunette grinned, settling in her seat as they all began eating.
Arturia scoffed, "What about Merlin?"
She shrugged, "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Plus," her accent thick as she cut into her steak, "I only want to meet him."
Arturia rolled her eyes while she drank a bit of her wine, Diarmuid keeping an eye on his boss.
"Do you live with your brother?" Morgana did seem to have an interest in the man, quite a bit.
"No, though he is to return soon."
Diarmuid rolled out of his bed, his green pyjama pants hung to his waist. He rubbed his back, yawning while he stretched. He glanced at the clock, it was six in the morning and he was already up to go for a jog. Diarmuid was a productive man. He did not like sitting in his house doing nothing all day, he loved being busy and that was one of the reasons he did not like model work.
He looked himself in the mirror, he had bags under his eyes and his black hair was all over the place; as if he had been hit by a car or something. He stepped out of his pants and walked into the shower of his small flat. He loved the cool water in the mornings as it washed over him, it woke him up and prepared him for the day ahead.
He had already slipped into something comfortable while he ate breakfast at the small kitchen, a black pair of running shorts and a simple white t-shirt. He stretched a bit more before leaving the flat, ready to begin his morning routine.
The warm morning breeze kissed his face while he jogged, he felt calm and at peace every morning.
A thought ran through his mind; the image of his boss giggling and blushing…she was different. She did not need to try to even look appealing and she already was. Sileas, on the other hand, was seductive and he could tell from the look in her eyes and the way she moved her hips with every step she took.
They were both mesmerizing the way they were, but for some reason—even if his heart jumped when Sileas winked at him—he preferred the way that his mind would melt at the sight of Arturia's smile. He preferred that much more than the wink of a slender and tall model.
He set down his bag, smiling up at the small apartment building. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and you could see it if the light of the morning sun bounced off just enough from them. He bit back a laugh, tongue gliding over a sharp canine, "Well, I hope that little jerk is happy to see me."
Picking up his bag, he rolled it towards the lobby.
