Arabella Pannone is a lot of things: bossy, emotional, quirky. But one thing she isn't is the kind of person to hold a grudge.

For what it's worth, she has decided that Arthur is forgiven for not telling her he has a girlfriend. This decision mainly sprang from two nights lying in bed realising that a) he'd only just told her his name, there was no reason he should have also informed her of his relationship status, and b) when she looks back on their encounters, cringing, she realises that there wasn't really any flirting happening, anyway.

Not that it matters what Arabella thinks of Arthur, since she's adamant she'll never see him again.

(Clearly, she's yet to understand that this is something bigger than mere coincidence.)

Also, her feelings right now are irrelevant since she's attending a party tonight and planning on getting so drunk she can't remember her own name, let alone his.

Arthur, however, is still puzzled by the entire scene that occurred just the day before yesterday. His game isn't that bad that it literally sends girls running, is it?

After Arabella had stormed out he'd gone back to his table, alone and covered in rapidly cooling coffee, to at least get some studying done.

The redhead behind him still tried to make eye contact, but neither Arthur's head nor heart was in it, so eventually she gave up and left.

Back to present day, he's currently rearranging a rack of punk CDs in the music store he works at. It's completely deserted, as usual. Honestly, Arthur has no idea how it's not closed down already, but the position gives him decent pay and the chance to listen to his music, so he stays.

Perhaps because Arthur is the only one of the emloyees with any musical knowledge, the store manager assigns him the task of making playlists to play in the background. Right now it's a slow, soft acoustic song drifting through the overhead speakers. The gentle melody reminds him of a lullaby his Mom used to sing for him before bad.

Either by instinct or just because he has a horrendous sleeping pattern, Arthur grows tired. A glance at the clock on the wall tells him he has another two hours left of his shift.

He looks to the door, which hasn't opened in at least twenty minutes, then to his seat behind the till.

I'll just close my eyes, give them some rest, but I won't actually fall asleep, Arthur tells himself as he sits down and rests his head on the desk, using his arms as a pillow.

Within ten minutes, he's fast asleep and oblivious to the world.

♡

It seems that Arthur spends a serious amount of time being woken by other people's voice. Still, what are the chances of it happening multiple times by the same girl?

"Arthur?" Arabella's voice translates to Arthur's brain slightly muffled by his semi-conscious state. "Oh, I didn't expect to see you here."

He startles, siting up and looking around frantically through bleary eyes. Finally, they focus on her.

"Do-do you wanna buy something?" he asks awkwardly.

She smiles, laughing a little, and he looks away. He reckons she's like the sun; she shines so bright that you can't look at her for too long without feeling dazzled.

"Sure," Arabella replies. Arthur envies the coolness of her voice, unaware of the amount of effort she's putting in to keep it that even. "My friend Rebecca's birthday is coming up, and I know she likes music, so I figured I'd get her a CD or something."

Standing up from his chair and stretching out his impossibly long limbs, Arthur nods. "What kind of music does she like?"

"Um, I'm not sure." She pauses, tentative. "What music are you into?"

"Classical mainly - piano, because it's my favourite instrument to play. But I'm gonna take a wild guess that Mozart isn't your friend's number one. It's not exactly hugely popular amongst teenagers."

There's so much Arabella wants to say right now, but it all boils down to: tell me more because your passion makes your eyes go all bright and wide and it's really damn cute. Instead, she asks if he likes any more current music.

"Mm, I'd say my favourite band right now are the Arctic Monkeys."

"No way! I love them - what's your favourite song?"

Something has shifted; they've gone past customer-server dynamics. But, grinning like idiots, they can't quite bring themselves to care.

"Oh," Arthur says, quieter now. "I love 'Arabella'."

"Good choice," Arabella answers, voice softer than usual. "I like that one, too."

It feels like when they'd had that moment in Starbucks, that indeterminable something.

Arthur bites his bottom lip (so attractive, dammit) then shakes his head and starts walking to the rack where he knows they'll find Arctic Monkeys.

Whilst Arthur rings up the purchase of AM, Arabella chews on her left pinkie. As Catarina often reminds her, it's a horrible habit, but one she can't seem to kick. She always seems to catch herself doing it, especially when she's nervous.

She's most definitely nervous right now. It's a strange feeling, watching this not-just-a-stranger as he puts the CD in a small plastic bag. She knows that this is the time when one of them should say something, something that would officially transfer their relationship from stranger to acquaintance, if not further.

But Arabella remembers Brynn and how easily they'd said they loved each other, just like that. So she bites her tongue, because she has no desire to interfere with their relationship.

(Although she'll admit she wouldn't be devastated if they were to split up and Arthur became on the market.)

Then there's Arthur. Awkward, insecure, introverted Arthur. He doesn't ask for Arabella's number because look at her. (As mentioned previously, Arthur recently grew into his striking features but is unsure as to what that means for him.)

"Bye, Arthur."

"Bye, Arabella."

He watches her leave, just as she departed the airplane, then raced out of Starbucks.

He has Arctic Monkeys' 'Arabella' stuck in his head all afternoon.