When work ended, Arthur followed me and entered the building opposite my home.
So, he had been staying here this whole time.
He opened the door and was about to walk in when I suddenly asked him:
"Could you change your name?"
He turned around, confused.
"Can I change how I call you, something not related to the name 'Arthur'?" I explained, "When I was a child, my mother always used you as an example when scolding me. Now, when I hear those two words, I just think of her yelling at me, and it makes me uncomfortable."
His face paled slightly:
"Your parents always compared you to me when they scolded you?"
"Why else?"
Arthur bit his lip:
"Call me whatever you want, it's up to you."
"Then I'll call you 'the third'," I said.
"I have two exes, you're perfectly in line, hope you don't mind?"
He bit his lip so hard it bled, but I pretended not to see.
"If you don't say anything, I'll assume you agree."
With that, I turned around and went inside, not bothering to pay him any more attention.
---
Arthur had been recommended as an intern by an academician, and to make sure he was well taken care of, my boss gave me a month off.
I thought about it and didn't refuse.
It was the perfect time to tidy up my place.
While I was cleaning the floor on my hands and knees, wearing a hat, Arthur came over.
Seeing how dirty I was, he furrowed his brow and pulled me up:
"Stop, I'll hire a cleaning service for you."
I immediately seized the opportunity to ask for more:
"I also want a robotic vacuum."
"Okay."
"I'm hungry. Can you go buy me some food? The one from the West, the fresh one right off the stove."
"Okay."
"I want to eat cakes. Can you go stand in line and buy some for me?"
"Sure."
I:... Is there really no bottom line?
"Is it that whatever I say, you'll agree to?"
"Yes."
He grabbed my hand, carefully, gently wiping it with a wet tissue:
"As long as it makes you happy, I'll agree to anything."
This person really has lost it.
I blinked and smiled at him:
"Then, can I ask you to sponsor two male college students? The third, can you help me with the money?"
He gripped my hand tightly for a moment.
After a while, he loosened his grip, looking at the red marks with pity. He leaned in to blow on them and whispered, "If it would make you happy, I can do that."
I:...
This person really is beyond help.
---
I didn't want to eat takeout, so I asked Arthur to cook.
I stood by the door frame with my arms crossed, watching him busy chopping vegetables and washing pots. Suddenly, I said, "The toilet's clogged."
"The third, can you go fix it?"
He muttered an "Mm," took off his gloves, and headed toward the bathroom. When he returned after washing his hands, I looked at him with a complicated expression.
"If my mom finds out I made you do these things, she'll probably skin me alive."
Arthur was her idol.
Making her idol wash dishes and unclog toilets—such blasphemy.
"They don't matter," he said succinctly. "Lily, don't worry about them being unhappy."
He had said this for the third time.
Suddenly, it hit me:
"It seems like you're really afraid of me being unhappy. Why is that?"
His movements faltered, and he turned to face me, but didn't answer my question.
