If I'm a baby boy in her phone, then it's only fair she's a mom, right? But 'mom' sounds too formal… not cute. 'Mommy' sounds better.
That had been the entirely of the logic processing through Arthur's head when he saved her number. To him, it was a flawless, airtight retaliatory strike.
Now, however, he sat in the suffocating quiet of the passenger seat, a prickle of anxiety replacing his initial triumph. He risked a sideways glance at Natalia. Her jaw was set, her profile hard. Was that annoyance? Displeasure? He couldn't tell, and the ambiguity was agonizing.
What if she actually hates it?
He swallowed hard, staring down at his sneakers. Still… he wasn't going to change it. He had a shred of pride left. Hmph.
As the silence stretched over the miles, the initial rush of petty victory completely dissolved, leaving Arthur drowning in a pool of awkward guilt. Yet, stubbornness anchored him in place. He refused to back down first.
Fortunately, the escalating tension was snapped by the sharp, rhythmic vibration of Natalia's phone, rescuing them both from the depths of their own heads.
"It's Uncle Kevin," Arthur announced, checking the glowing screen before looking over at her. Natalia didn't say a word; she simply gave a crisp, decisive nod and gestured for him to take the call.
"Hello, it's me," Arthur chimed into the receiver.
"Hey, little guy."
"Yeah, yeah. Old man, you totally ditched me!" Arthur pouted dramatically, crossing his legs. "We could've gone to the mall together."
"Really? If we'd gone together, I'm certain we wouldn't have made it out before tomorrow morning. I know your shopping habits too well, brat."
"So that's how little faith you have in me? Not cool, Uncle. Not cool." Arthur let out a heavy, theatrical sigh, which was instantly met by Kevin's booming laughter on the other end of the line.
"If you're throwing a tantrum over your ice cream, relax. It's safe and sound in the freezer. You just need to get your butt home."
The pout vanished instantly. "Really?! Thank you, Uncle Kevin! You're officially my favorite!"
"Heh! Save the sweet talk for your aunt. Where are you two anyway?"
"Uh… we just passed the children's park."
"Alright. Tell her to drive safe. See you in a few."
After clicking the call ended, Arthur stared at the device in his hands, locked in a fierce mental debate. Should he hand it back to her now, or just hold onto it until they pulled into the driveway? He peeked at her through his eyelashes, but she remained completely focused on the road ahead, ignoring his existence entirely.
With a soft huff, he faced forward and imitated her posture, staring rigidly through the windshield.
The rest of the drive was a desert of absolute silence. For someone as naturally chatty as Arthur, the quiet felt like a physical weight, pressing against his chest. Natalia, conversely, seemed entirely unbothered, her natural temperament perfectly suited for a peaceful cabin.
Truthfully, she didn't mind his usual chatter. Over the last twenty-four hours, she had observed him flitting around her parents, a non-stop whirlwind of opinions, laughter, and high-energy drama.
He was loud, unapologetically spoiled, and demanded a constant stream of attention, traits that Natalia usually despised in other people.
But, to her own profound surprise, she couldn't bring herself to dislike it when it came to him.
"Sigh…"
Natalia's thoughts were abruptly derailed by Arthur's remarkably loud, exaggerated exhale, followed by a series of not-so-subtle side glances.
She noticed every single one of them. She simply chose not to react. Experience told her that if she engaged right now, she would only provoke another devastating pout or some other unhinged display of petty brilliance.
Honestly, if she spent another ten minutes confined in this car with him, her self-control was going to snap completely.
"My phone."
The moment the car rolled to a stop in the familiar driveway, Natalia broke the silence.
Arthur blinked, staring at her blankly for three consecutive seconds before his eyes widened in realization. He had completely forgotten he was still clutching her device like a security blanket.
Natalia now had definitive, empirical proof of why her mother affectionately referred to him as an airhead.
He is such a disaster, she thought, watching him carefully place the phone back into her open palm as if he were returning a holy relic to an altar. But it feels cruel to even call him a disaster. He's just... effortlessly cute. Still, I can't keep excusing his sheer lack of situational awareness just because he has a pretty face. How has he survived this long?
"Okay… at least he's a very cute idiot," she murmured under her breath, pocketing the device.
She expected him to immediately burst out of the passenger side, but to her confusion, Arthur remained glued to his seat, staring straight ahead.
"We're home," she reminded him gently.
Arthur looked around the driveway as if noticing the house for the very first time, before turning to her with an oddly formal, polite expression. "Ah. Thank you for the ride, Natalia."
Natalia raised an eyebrow, the sudden shift in his demeanor catching her completely off guard. Since when is he this well-behaved? It was the most disciplined she had seen him since her arrival.
And frankly?
I don't like it.
Natalia, you have officially lost your mind, she scolded herself. The lack of his usual flustered energy left a strange, hollow feeling in her chest. She wanted the stuttering back. She wanted the fierce, localized blush that painted his cheeks whenever she pushed his buttons.
Leaning back against her headrest, Natalia extended her hand across the console, palm flat and open. "My payment for the ride."
Arthur's eyes darted to her hand, then back to her face, his defensive walls flying right back up. "P-payment? I don't have any money on me…"
"Don't lie to me, Arthur. I saw Dad hand you cash this morning before school. There's no way you spent all of it."
"B-but that's my money now!" Arthur gasped, instantly clutching his school bag against his chest like a shield, as if she were about to launch herself across to rob him.
Natalia felt a mild twinge of professional insult at the gesture, though she knew she had entirely brought this on herself. "Are you calling me a thief again?"
"Well… aren't you?" Arthur countered, his lower lip jutting out. "I didn't even ask you to pick me up today. Besides, Uncle Kevin never charges me for gas."
"Exactly. I'm not Uncle Kevin. I am a self-proclaimed thief," she teased, her voice dropping an octave as she leaned an inch closer. "So, I require payment."
"I'm not giving you my allowance."
"I don't want your money, Arthur."
"W-what do you want then?" he stuttered, his voice losing its defensive edge and slipping into something soft, breathless, and entirely vulnerable.
Natalia's smirk deepened, her gaze locking onto his features with an intensity that made the air in the cabin feel instantly warmer. Arthur squirmed beneath the weight of her eyes, his gaze darting frantically to the dashboard, the steering wheel, the glove box, anywhere but her face.
I feel slightly villainous, Natalia realized, but god, making him blush is the most entertaining part of my day.
"What do you think I want?" she asked softly.
Arthur stared at her, his expression twisting into a look of sheer, agonizing concentration, as if he were trying to solve a high-stakes riddle under a strict time limit. He looked so incredibly serious that a quiet sigh escaped her. "You are so incredibly slow."
"Well… I don't know much about you yet," Arthur defended himself, a sudden flicker of genuine curiosity and excitement lighting up his eyes. "So… what do you actually like?"
"Haa… I'm not demanding," Natalia said, rubbing the back of her neck as the teasing tone faded into something more honest. "Mom mentioned that you make jewelry for them? Like, custom necklaces?"
Arthur froze, his brain stalling for a completely different reason. "Ah… D-do you want one too?"
"Yeah."
Natalia rarely, if ever, asked for personal gifts, but standing here with him, the request felt entirely natural. And the payoff was instant; the moment the words left her mouth, Arthur's entire face illuminated with a brilliant, blinding grin.
"I will make you one!" he beamed, his eyes practically sparkling.
"Will it be ready in time for tonight's dinner? Or do you need more time to work on it?"
Arthur's jaw dropped slightly, a mixture of disbelief and profound amazement coloring his features. He hadn't expected her to care so much about a silly piece of costume jewelry. She wanted to wear something he made to a formal dinner tonight.
God... my chest actually hurts because my heart is hitting my ribs so hard.
A deep, violent flush painted his face as he shook his head rapidly. "I can make it in time! It's not like I'm smelting the metal from scratch anyway. I just select the pieces, arrange them, and combine them into unique designs."
"Well… regardless of the process, it's still designed and put together by you," Natalia said, her voice steady and entirely sincere as her eyes flicked over his smile. "I saw the one you made for my mother. It was beautiful."
Arthur went completely still, the direct, unironic praise hitting him like a physical wave. He offered a quick, jerky nod, his lips curling into a small, remarkably shy smile. "Thanks."
stepped out onto the driveway, his entire body riding the quiet, euphoric high of her compliment.
She liked my work... she actually praised me, Arthur giggled to himself, closing the car door and trailing a few paces behind her as they walked toward the front porch.
But as they walked, his attention drifted. He didn't mean to stare, he really, truly didn't, but his eyes completely mutinied against his brain. He blame it on his nature as an artist; he was simply drawn to visually striking compositions.
And Natalia's silhouette was, objectively speaking, a masterpiece.
There was a confident, entirely deliberate precision to the way she moved. The sharp lines of her button-up shirt emphasized the strong slope of her shoulders and tapered down to the clean curve of her waist.
Everything about her posture demanded absolute respect without her ever having to say a word.
And… well, yeah. There was also the undeniable matter of her lower half. Cough- ass he means...
Okay, it's definitely not bigger than mine, Arthur evaluated mentally, his eyes lingering on the dark fabric of her trousers for a fraction of a second too long. But come on, Arthur. Really? You're analyzing her butt now?
I am officially a menace to society. I need a therapist. I need a secondary therapist immediately.
He cleared his throat loudly, picking up his pace to match her stride before his traitorous eyes could get him into any more psychological trouble.
SIGH......