Forbidden II Arthur TV and Italian Bach

Chapter 6

Arthur:

I stared at the clock on the wall, its ticking like a metronome marking the passage of time in my small, cluttered apartment. Laying in my bed, my head against the cotton pillow. Sighing deeply unable to sleep. Isaac was taking over my thoughts, his smell, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

I sat up and checked my phone, half-expecting it to burst into life with a message from Isaac. Nothing. Just an empty screen that mirrored the growing void in my chest. His absence felt like a silent rejection, a weight I hadn't been ready to bear. Only adding salt to injury. My mind kept replaying our last encounter—a conversation, a night, a series of actions that had left me more confused than before.

Today was supposed to be a fun day. We were supposed to hangout, get some food and drinks, and have good conversation, but Isaac's response had been evasive after I took a picture with the fan, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. It was as if he was trying to navigate a conversation he didn't want to be part of. I'd hoped it was just a bad day, that maybe he was distracted or preoccupied, but now I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd overstepped, or worse, misread every sign.

Sitting up in bed, my legs hanging off the side of it. I got up and silently padded to the kitchen. The silence of my apartment was deafening, a stark contrast to the noise in my head. I was trying to be patient, trying to convince myself that today had nothing to do with me, that I didn't do anything wrong it was just Isaac having an off day, but the growing knot of anxiety in my stomach told me otherwise.

Opening the refrigerator without really knowing what I was looking for. I closed it again, feeling the cool air against my back but finding no comfort. I wasn't hungry; I was restless. The anxiety of what had happened tonight had been replaced by a gnawing sense of disappointment and rejection.

My phone buzzed, breaking the oppressive silence. I almost dropped it in my haste to check, but it was just a generic reminder from my calendar app. I turned it off with a sigh, feeling the weight of my solitude settle heavily on my shoulders. I know he wouldn't call or text. It was late, he shouldn't call or text. Still a part of me was waiting on him,

I considered calling Isaac, but hesitated. He's probably asleep, we had a busy day and he has an early morning. He's probably turned his phone off, it has nothing to do with me. 

"What if he was avoiding you." A tiny voice whispered in my head. I quickly shut it off, we were friends. There's no reason for him to avoid you. 

"He's growing bored of you. What if he doesn't feel the same way?" The voice said again. I began bitting my nails. I'd been trying so hard to be patient, to give him space, but the uncertainty was eating away at me. I wanted to confront it, to ask him directly, but I was afraid of the answer.

I sank back onto the couch, feeling the cushions give under my weight. I turned on the TV, hoping the distraction might help. But the show's dialogue felt distant, irrelevant. The characters on screen lived lives far removed from the tangled mess of my emotions. I turned it off after a few minutes, unable to focus.

Just then, my phone buzzed again. My heart skipped a beat as I saw Isaac's name on the screen. The message was short, apologetic, and to the point: "Hey, sorry if I made the car ride home awkward, I think I fatigue was impairing my mind a bit" 

Instead of feeling relieved that he didn't think I was weird, I felt angry and rejected. A burning sensation started in my stomach. I was glad he'd reached out, but the briefness of his message, the lack of any real warmth or reassurance, only deepened my sense of growing frustration.

I typed a polite, if somewhat curt, reply, "I didn't feel any awkwardness at all, completely natural, thanks for the ride home." 

Attempting and failing to hide the disappointment in my words. Setting my phone down, I felt the emptiness of my apartment more acutely than ever. The night stretched ahead, and with it, the uncertainty about what might come next. I needed to figure out how to navigate this, but I didn't know if the conversation I'd been hoping for would ever come. And if it did, would it bring clarity or only deepen the confusion?

As I looked around my apartment, I wondered if our friendship would ever evolve into what I'd hoped for, or if this was all it would ever be, before pushing the now intimidating though out of my head.

"I need to head to bed" I murmured to myself as I lumbered my way back to bed, plugging my phone into the charger before getting myself comfortable and drifting off to sleep.

Authors Note: I'm afraid to admit it's only going downhill from here. Scarlett Johansen beautiful cabin crew🥀