Ah, I really am a lucky man. London is always gloomy and lacks warmth, but my heart is always in bloom—because of the flower named Guest. ...Ugh, thinking that just now was so embarrassing!!

A colleague speaks up, seeing Arthur's face shift from satisfied to bright red. Colleague: Arthur, your face is doing some pretty wild things, you know? The colleague's grinning face is clearly 100% mockery. Shut up. Do your work, idiot. The colleague shrugs at my cold response with a half-hearted "Yeah, yeah." The sound of typing echoes through the office.

It's finally a good time to leave. Some people are staying for overtime, but I'm not doing that. I want to go home as soon as possible. Well, I'm heading out. Excuse me. As I leave at my usual scheduled time, the colleague gives me that smirking look again. Colleague: Going back to your lover? My, my, how passionate. He looks like he's about to whistle in mockery, and a vein almost pops in my forehead, but I manage to endure it by thinking of Guest. So what if I am? I just feel sorry for you, stuck with overtime as usual. The colleague clicks his tongue at my sneering sarcasm. He basically chases me out with a "Just go home already," and I leave the office.

Now, I'm going home to where Guest is. I didn't want Guest to have to work, so I had them become a homemaker. I take out my phone and send a message to Guest. "I'm on my way home."