The One

Little Silly Outburst

As Christian and Karol made their way back to the office, he broke the silence. "Is it okay if I make a quick site visit?" he asked, glancing at her expectantly, seeking permission to diverge from their path.

"Sure, why not? By the way, did you bring your laptop?" she inquired, fishing out her phone from her handbag and scrolling through it.

"Sorry, I didn't," he replied, the sense of oversight sinking in.

She sighed, staring at the unending barrage of messages and emails cluttering her screen, overwhelmed. "No worries. But after your site visit, could you take me home?"

In a tone laden with disappointment, he asked, "Why? I thought we had the whole day to ourselves?" But his voice faltered into confusion as he added, "Huh?!"

"I mean, there's no one at home, plus there's no food in your house. Aren't you bored being alone?" Christian pressed, attempting to pivot his earlier query into a straightforward observation. Karol, sensing her own need to justify, launched into a carefully crafted explanation, laden with half-truths.

"Firstly, we did have the whole day to ourselves, but not any more. Secondly, I have an avalanche of work to tackle. Thirdly, it's not about you; it's about my university assignments," she said, crossing her fingers as she spoke that part. "They've been hounding me with email after email and text after text, demanding I finish everything before 5 pm, and here we are, with the clock nearly striking 2:30."

Without a word of complaint, Christian shifted direction, steering the car towards their house.

"What about your food?" he pressed again, concern etching his brow.

Karol shot him an incredulous look, her eyebrows raised. "You do know I can cook for myself, right?"

"I know, and you're an excellent cook, but what if you get so engrossed in your work that you forget to eat?" he countered, his worry still palpable.

"Christian, stop overthinking it. I'm no child; I know how to take care of myself," she replied firmly, brushing aside his concerns.

"See, this is precisely why you shouldn't be left alone at home; you won't take proper care of yourself," he chastised, shaking his head disapprovingly. Her annoyance flared, her inner diva momentarily unleashed. "Then?!" she shot back, her tone challenging, as though daring him to argue.

Raising an eyebrow at her sudden outburst, Christian shifted his tone, adopting a more commanding cadence. "Okay, I'll take you home now, but I'll be back by 5 or 6 pm to pick you up for our dinner," he stated, resolute.

"That tone isn't going to work on me," she retorted quickly. "No. You don't need to do all that. Just drop me off, and I'll manage myself. We live in a high-tech era—I can just order delivery," she added, a hint of mockery lacing her words.

"Nope, I don't care. I'll be there at 6 pm, and we're going out for dinner," he insisted, determination firm in his voice as they finally arrived at the rental house.

"Never want to listen to me, huh?! Then suit yourself!" she shot back, slamming the car door behind her as she exited, a little firecracker of frustration unleashed.

'Stupid man!' she seethed to herself as she stormed into the house, slamming the door behind her with the kind of ferocity that could shatter glass (if this were a horror movie, that would be just about right). She didn't even glance back at Christian, who was lingering like a lost puppy, waiting for the customary goodbye wave that never came.

In the car, Christian shot a disappointed look at his friend Arlo. "What's up with her? She didn't even wave goodbye!"

Arlo barked indignantly in Christian's mind, 'That's because she caught you smooching that—let's be blunt—a rather unworthy trollop!'

Christian scrambled to defend himself. "It was all a surprise! She did that on purpose!"

"Right, sure. And I'm the Queen of Sheba!" Arlo snapped back with barely contained fury. 'You should have pushed her away the instant she dared to lay those lips on ours, you numpty!'

"I was a bit taken aback, alright! She was clinging to our arm like a barnacle while wailing her apologies. What was I supposed to do?" Christian argued, floundering in his own defence.

"Seriously, dude! Did you use your brain or just your knee? How on earth did I end up with a human as thick as you?" Arlo shot back, his frustration palpable.

"I'm sorry, genius! What do you suggest I did differently if you're so clever?" Christian shot back, brimming with mock disbelief.

Arlo exasperated, let loose a broil of irritation. 'Alright, let's break this down so your empty head can grasp it! First, you push her away the moment she plants her filthy lips on ours. Second, you steer clear of her like she's the plague. Thirdly, she's a bloody trollop! Are you really that blind? Fourthly, she clearly orchestrated this whole disaster and you still didn't clock it?' His voice was rising now with the fervour of a man who had just been forced to rewatch his worst nightmare.

As the last of Arlo's rant echoed in Christian's mind, he added a warning that could curdle milk. 'Now, get your act together and pay attention to her! If you can't manage that, I swear by the moon, I will make your existence a special kind of hell!'

"Blimey! Sorry for being a rubbish mate, but she's my mate too. I do care for her! So stop claiming her as solely yours!" Christian retorted, revealing a glimmer of his own indignation.

Arlo huffed, sounding like a disgruntled toddler. 'Then act like it! Show some bloody conviction! Sometimes you're as mature as a five-year-old!'

"Oh really, Mr Perfect? A bit jealous, are we?" Christian fired back, enjoying the playful skirmish.

"Low blow, mate. What a low blow," Arlo grumbled, sulking in a playful fashion.

As their bickering echoed like children on a playground, they finally arrived at the destination they had originally set out for.