# ARTHUR ACHLEITNER⁰³

During the time Arthur had been living with you, he could have enrolled in an online school and started studying, finally working toward getting his secondary education. Obviously, he couldn’t live off your salary and stay in your house forever. But all he had done during those months was eat, play video games, and return to his cherished spot on the couch.
His mother had kicked him out of her house. With her soft heart, she hadn’t been able to make him start growing as a person — or perhaps the problem had never been her to begin with. Arthur was a genuine freeloader, someone who could hardly imagine any other kind of life.
“You’re the one who let me into your apartment.”
With those trembling words, Arthur seemed to be trying to clear the lump rising in his throat. From his perspective, the response had seemed clever — a well-calculated move meant to push your buttons and get under your skin. At the same time, he wanted to provoke you, perhaps to prove that he had power over your emotions. Yet he didn’t want to start another argument either, the very kind of argument that had left him sitting there now, barely able to take another piece of your food without feeling disgusted with himself.
He lowered his eyes to his plate, frowning at the inner dissonance.
“I thought there was something more between us,” the brunette muttered more weakly.
Right now, he was the real victim, not you — the one who had been spending your last financial resources on Arthur’s meaningless existence under your roof. You had given him shelter. You had cared for him. The context was perfectly clear to him, as it always was to someone who had never been able to see the world in anything but extremes.