Without thinking much about it, Arthur picked up his phone and dialed the number he had received earlier.
After a few rings, a professional male voice answered on the other end of the line.
"Hello, is this Silverline Studios?" Arthur asked calmly.
"Yes, indeed. You must be Mr. Arthur Morgan, correct? It's a pleasure to finally speak with you.
I heard from your editor that you prefer not to receive visitors at your home. We'd like to know if you're available to come to our company today for a more detailed discussion. We could also have lunch while we go over the project details."
Arthur blinked and only then realized the man was right—it was almost noon.
The clock on the wall read 11:47 a.m., and sunlight streamed lazily through the curtains, warming the room.
"I'm sorry," he replied without hesitation, "but I don't have time right now."
"I understand… well, it is the perfect time for lunch," the man commented in a friendly tone.
"That's not it," Arthur answered, as calmly as ever. "It's just that it's almost time for my profiterole."
There was a brief silence. Arthur could almost picture the look of pure confusion on the other side of the line.
He was simply provoking him to see what kind of reaction he would get.
When the voice returned, it sounded slightly more rigid—and faintly frustrated.
"Ah… of course. A writer like yourself needs to maintain a proper diet to keep your mind functioning, isn't that right?"
Arthur scratched the back of his neck with an amused smile. "No, nothing like that. It's just a personal habit."
From the other end, he distinctly heard the sound of someone clicking their tongue—the kind of sound that said more than words ever could.
"Very well… in that case, we can schedule it for later."
"Five in the afternoon works for me."
"Perfect, Mr. Arthur. We'll send the details by message. See you then."
Arthur exchanged a few final words about the meeting, confirmed some minor points, and finally prepared to hang up.
The very next second, a muffled THUD! echoed faintly from the other side—it sounded like a phone being slammed onto a desk.
Arthur sighed, shaking his head with a tired smile.
It was unfolding exactly as he had imagined. There was definitely something strange about that studio.
"Ahh… I'm going to take a good nap now," he muttered, turning toward the couch.
Gwen was still asleep, her peaceful face resting against his shoulder. A small smile formed on his lips as he looked at her.
---
Two hours later…
A slight movement caused the blanket to slide off the couch. Gwen slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times until she adjusted to the soft light in the room.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and looked around—Arthur was nowhere in sight.
Her gaze fell on a glass of water on the coffee table, and she couldn't help but smile.
"…Your cheap philosophy somehow always works," she murmured with a quiet laugh.
She picked up the glass and raised it, watching how the light refracted across the surface of the water.
"Just like this water, I need to adapt… change according to the environment," she reflected softly. "If water is placed in a cup, it takes the shape of the cup. If it's put in a bottle, it molds itself to the bottle. But it's still water—always the same essence."
She sighed thoughtfully. "So that's what you meant… that I shouldn't panic. I need to adapt, learn how to use these powers, master them and… turn them into something useful."
For a moment, the room fell silent—only the soft sound of the wind brushing against the window.
Then Gwen smiled again, shaking her head. "You're an idiot… but sometimes, a wise one."
After stretching, she stood up and walked toward the kitchen.
That was when something caught her attention—a delicious, familiar smell filling the air.
"What smells so good?" she exclaimed, following the aroma to the counter.
Arthur, wearing an apron, casually stirred a pot while steam rose in slow spirals.
"Oh? You're awake, Sleeping Beauty?" he asked with a smile as he noticed her presence.
"Yeah," Gwen replied curiously. "What are you cooking?"
Arthur chuckled. "Sit down. It'll be ready soon."
"Understood!" She gave him a playful salute and sat down, watching him with curious eyes.
A few minutes later, he placed a plate in front of her—rice topped with chicken and eggs simmered in a fragrant broth.
"It's called Oyakodon," he explained.
Gwen frowned almost immediately.
"Oyakodon…?" she repeated slowly, staring at him.
"Yes. Why?" Arthur asked, confused.
She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. "What exactly are you trying to imply by making me a dish called 'parent and child'…?"
She struck a dramatic pose, pointing at him like a certain time-stopping blond vampire of questionable flamboyance.
Arthur blinked, completely lost. "…I'm not implying anything. It's just a traditional dish from my homeland."
He raised an eyebrow. "Gwen… what have you been reading lately?"
She blushed and looked away.
"It's not like that! I just… saw something similar in one of the animes you made me watch and…"
Arthur stared at her in silence, expression unreadable.
"So you're saying this is my fault?" he asked with mock seriousness.
"Yes! It's entirely your fault!" she shot back quickly, grabbing the chopsticks and starting to eat as fast as possible, trying to end the subject.
Arthur let out a low laugh, resting his chin on his hand. "For the record, nothing like that happens in any of the anime I recommended."
Gwen merely grumbled with her mouth full, avoiding his gaze.
After a few minutes, she looked up and smiled. "By the way, I understood what you meant about the glass of water."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Hm? Was there something to understand?"
"Hahahaha!!" Gwen burst into laughter. "Just as I thought—you didn't even know what you were talking about!"
Arthur pretended to be offended. "If you keep laughing, I won't let you have any more food."
"Don't you dare!" Gwen replied, raising her chopsticks like a weapon.
Arthur couldn't hold it in and started laughing too.
For a few seconds, their house was filled with nothing but the light sound of their laughter.
---
A few hours later…
"I need to go now, Arthur," Gwen said, picking up her bag. "I have rehearsal this afternoon."
"Alright," he replied, standing up. "I have an appointment too. I'm meeting some people from a studio."
She turned, surprised. "Really? Is one of your books finally getting an adaptation?"
Arthur gave a half-smile. "That depends on the book… and the contract."
"I'm hoping it's not any of the sci-fi I wrote," he joked.
"You're right, you're terrible at writing sci-fi," she teased.
"You're supposed to encourage me," he laughed.
"Even so, it's a great opportunity. I hope everything works out," she said sincerely.
"So do I," he replied, gently running a hand through her hair—a nearly automatic gesture, yet filled with affection. For some reason, he had always liked doing that.
"Okay, I really have to go now." Gwen leaned in and gave him a quick kiss before heading out the door.
Arthur watched her leave with a faint smile on his face. When the door closed, he shook his head and let out an amused sigh.
"That girl…"
---
(End of Chapter)