You're going to your friend Arthur's house for tea, and you end up getting there a half hour early due to lack of traffic. You check your phone. Now you're only 28 minutes early. You're not sure if you should go in or not, because you're so early. If you were this early for a hangout with Feliciano or Chelles, it would be fine.
But Arthur...Arthur is special. Arthur is someone you don't want to embarrass yourself in front of. Arthur, that handsome young man at the back of your history class who sips tea and rolls his eyes as his friends yell obscenities. Arthur, who saved that adorable, innocent Chinese guy in your class from being sexually assaulted by that big nasty Russian bully to "become one." That wonderful Arthur Kirkland, so serious, so formal, so unlike the type of people that annoy you. Arthur is someone you respect, someone you admire, someone you may even love.
By chance, you ended up being his partner for a history project on the UK. That's how you became friends. You remember being comfortable around him because he wasn't particularly chatty, so you didn't feel forced to try to chat with someone you didn't know. After you finished the project, you thought you would just delete his contact and never talk to him again like every other project group member. Then, a couple days later, he asked you to go out to Panera with him. You were shocked that he would want to spend more time with you, but said yes anyway. You two had a good time, then he asked you to hang out again. Then YOU asked HIM to hang out, and so on. And now you're here.
Thinking of those fond times, you find yourself with that stupid grin on your face that you usually wear when thinking of him. You blink a couple times and check your phone. You have fifteen minutes.
Well, you can't just stay out here forever, you'll look like a creepy stalker. So you begin to shuffle towards his place.
When you get close, you start to hear an odd tune coming from near the back door.
Your curiousity overtaking you, you tiptoe near the back of Arthur's house. The back door is open with only the screen door blocking the way to his home. Hearing the song better, you notice the groovy feel and steady beat of claves.
This is very, very odd. Arthur would never listen to this type of music. Is Francis over or something?
You peek through the screen door, and you make out the silhouette of a person...dancing...Hips moving swiftly side to side with fluid hand motions.
It appears that Francis got a haircut.
But why is he here? Did Arthur forget that you had plans today? Your heart sinks.
Well, fine. They can go have fun. You'll see if Feliciano is free.
Then you hear someone yell in terror. You're faced with Arthur. Except he's right where the dancing silhouette was earlier.
"A-Arthur?" you whisper.
"I-I-I can explain!"
Arthur was dancing...Arthur can dance...Arthur likes to dance! You uncontrollably burst out laughing.
"(Y/N)!! Stop laughing!"
You try to stop, but your mind is filled with images of your uptight friend dancing to groovy music. Your sides are splitting.
"I didn't think you would come this early!" Arthur cries.
"Can I come in?" you ask as soon as you can contain yourself.
Arthur's eyes widen. "Wait...you...still want to hang out?"
"Pff yeah! Of course!" You smile.
When he comes and opens the door for you, you whisper, "By the way, I think you're a great dancer."
