Cyrin smiles slightly, I will. He pockets his phone, jumping slightly when his father speaks, “Cyrin, what has you smiling?”
Cyrin shakes his head, “Just this guy. He’s offering me a new place, bigger than my current one and a lot less expensive. But it’s on the other side of town. I don’t know if I should take it.”
His father hums, “You should take it, you’ve been complaint about the money you have right now. And you said you’re behind on rent.”
Cyrin sighs, “I’ll think about it. Right now, mama needs us.”
(could do another time skip. You think Cyrin tells him about the whole mess at any point, like, before the funeral?)
(Probably, though it would take face to face pestering. Cyrin’s a family guy, so most of his time’s going to either be spent with his family or at his apartment sleeping, not much else. Not even dancing. So, the only time Arthur the Stalker would see him is moving between those two places)
Arthur went to the mall that day, people watching. He waited, not wanting Cyrin to get suspicious of him. Thinking, planning, scheming… anticipating.
The next morning, he waited till about 10 before texting again.
Hey man, did you get that situation resolved yesterday? You seemed pretty down.
Cyrin looks at his phone, biting his lip. He looks up at his silent mother, if he didn’t know any better, he would think she was dealing with his sisters death, but her silence was just testimony to how torn up she was inside.
He sighs, I don’t know when it'll be resolved. It’ll take a long while to resolve it. He laughs softly at the statement, more like never. It was hard to imagine his life without his little sister pestering him about everything.
He closes his eyes, We can meet up about the apartment though.
(By the way, i don’t know how active I’ll be this week, I may be just as active as I normally am, or not, I’m getting kind of swamped with work)
(thanks for the heads up. You've seen how active I am so youre good!)
If you want to, I absolutely can, but no pressure. Just wanted to check on you, Cyrin.
So maybe they'd meet up after all.
Arthur dressed soft. Black sweater over denim, hair in its typical disheveled state. All the things to get Cyrin to feel comfortable with him. He waited on the response text, knowing that no matter how much Cyrin clamped down his feelings, he'd be having a lot of them, and that was an easy target for manipulation.
Cyrin reads the text, sighing softly. His father had advised him to take the offer, and Cyrin knew his father was thinking in the long term, not the short term.
I want to, it’s perfectly fine. I’ll be fine as well. Cyrin wondered if he said that more to reassure himself rather than Arthur. Probably, if he was being honest.
How does lunch sound? Where do you like to eat?
Well. Bait taken. He'd be moved into the apartment soon, and Arthur could continue to worm his way into Cyrin's heart. Slowly but surely.
And once there… well.
Cyrin sighs, I’m fine with anything, just nothing too expensive.
He rubs his foot, trying to massage the muscles so they could cramp less once he started dancing. He’d thought about not dancing for a while, but the dancing distracted him. Made him feel normal, so after calls from his instructor trying to get him to come to the studio, he finally relented and went.
First off, I'm paying so don't worry about cost. Secondly, how does that Italian place on Stanton St. sound? Meet you there around noon?
Arthur had to wonder how the family was handling the news coverage of the event. The sister's death had been the story for the last two days, of course, and Arthur got a small thrill out of knowing the uproar it had caused.
Cyrin looks at the time, How a bout two? I’m a little busy at the moment, and ity’ll take a while.
Dancing would defiantly help him focus, he needed the break from life.
2 is perfect. I'll see you there :)
2 would be just fine. He could wait a little longer.
….
2:00 rolled around and Arthur was at the Italian restaraunt, just waiting. They had good breadsticks, at least. He'd sat in a booth, facing the door, so he could see when Cyrin came in.
Cyrin sighs, walking into the restaurant, and looking around, then walking over to the table. His feet hurt. He sits down, shifting slightly, “Hey. . .” He mumbles, grabbing a breadstick and teasing it, putting the smaller piece into his mouth. “How are you?”
Arthur gave him a smile as he walked up, though his face got more concerned as Cyrin sat down.
"I'm fine, but how are you?" The dancer looked tired, and upset, and just… drained. "You don't look ok…"
Cyrin laughs softly, smiling, “I’m fine. Just spent the morning dancing is all. I’m famished.” He eats the rest of the breadstick, humming to himself. Really though, Cyrin was exhausted, he probably shouldn’t have spent his little energy Dancing, but it had made him feel a little eater. Like things were maybe going to be okay.
"… Good?" Arthur pushed the basket of breadsticks in his direction.
"Is that situation still bothering you?" he asked quietly, his eyes sympathetic.
He nods, “Yeah. . . I’ll live though, I think. . .” He takes another breadstick, looking at it before eating it.
"Do-… do you want to talk about it?" Arthur kept his voice quiet, gentle.
It would be interesting to see if Cyrin would be open with him.
Cyrin looks at him, gauging for a moment before letting out a sigh, lifting a shoulder in a shrug, “I’m sure you’ve seen the news.”
"Yeah, about some poor girl they found yesterday morning. Seemed really-…" Arthur's eyes widened.
"Cyrin… family member? Friend?"
Cyrin watches Arthur’s face, “Little sister.” He murmurs, tearing into another breadstick, staying silent after that.
