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Aro #eTB1NHIzM24wdTZo
Tim is a flirt. He’s always known this and he knows that isn’t a bad thing. He likes flirting, it makes other people happy - to feel desired or paid a complement. Who minds a complement, anyway? Not Rosie who always blushes at his attention to her hair. Not Sasha who flirts back with the easy banter they share, knowing it’s all in good fun. Not the filing clerks he takes out, almost a different one each week. Not David when Tim can be bothered and David wears something that doesn’t clash so poorly it makes Tim cry (inside though occasionally outside as well). Not even Jon is completely immune, sure he’s more susceptible to Martin’s tea than to his charms but se la vie. Tim backs off when he’s spurned never taking it to heart.
Tim likes flirting. He makes sure that any dates know it is strictly casual on the first and reiterates on the rare occasion of a second. Flirting doesn’t mean he needs to lead people on or be overly cruel, insufferable jocks that get fixed by monogamy in B-list films really don’t help those misconceptions about people like him. Flirting doesn’t mean that he’s easy either though; drinks are common, as are kisses but anything further happens significantly less often than others may believe (he’s heard the rumours, Tim is practically the owner of the Magnus Institute rumour mill). Keeping it casual hurts sometimes, he likes people and there’s often a lot to like. The absent minded daydreams of what someone’s favourite book is or what they look like when they’re completely relaxed and at home. Idle daydreams. They’re delectable and occur almost periodically. Tim comes across as a trivial man but his attraction isn’t so. It’s serious and it hurts when others treat him like a game or a prize to be won, played with and then tossed away. Even if that’s exactly how he presents himself. He’s tried to be serious before but it never seems to ~stick~. It just leaves his partner unhappy, claiming that he never loved them in the first place or questioning what they did to force him out of love with them. It killed a part of Tim every time to see the hurt on their faces, someone who he had loved. And it had been love - giddy and sweet and light and inevitably, at some point, ~gone~. They looked betrayed and in those moments he had tried to cling on to the things that he had loved about them, their laugh, the way their hair gleamed when the sunlight caught them just right, the curl of their lips as they smiled but they too seemed faded.
They called him many things, as they had the right to. They called him a flirt. Time knows that’s not a bad thing but sometimes that’s a hard thing to believe.
‘Am I broken?’
Sasha shoots up to find Tim sat on the stairs of the archives head against the bannister.
‘No. Never. What’s this about?’ The air feels different and serious, heavy. The conflict on Sasha’s face is clear- tea or no tea, that is the question.
‘I just… I fall in love but I don’t stay there. Why is that so hard? Why?! I like getting to know people, I like knowing how someone is with children or that they love dogs or always wanted a cat or spends Christmas with their siblings. So why does getting closer make me fall out of love? Isn’t it cruel to have so many loves to lose them so quickly? That’s not ~normal~, right? I just… don’t know anymore’
Sasha, having forgone the tea, just hugs him. Hugs like she’ll never let go as the tears begin in earnest.
‘You aren’t broken. Attraction is hard and it doesn’t just do what we want’ a mirthless laugh follows, god only knows the number of times Sasha wound up crying at 2 in the morning wondering if she was broken and forever unlovable.
‘Tim you know I’m aromantic, yeah?’
A nod.
‘I think you might be on the aromantic spectrum - you don’t need to label it if you don’t want to but it could help? It sounds like a fray romantic experience, experiencing romantic attraction until forming an emotional bond or maybe lithromantic, losing attraction when feelings are reciprocated? You don’t have to know in one go though. Take your time and be ~nice~ to yourself.’
Tim’s mind is treacle but he manages to thank Sasha; goes home when she tells him and promises to talk to Jon so he won’t have to.
——
‘Feeling better?’, Tim can see the worry lines set in around Sasha’s face just by her tone on the other end of the phone.
‘Yeah I am a bit, thanks Sasha’, Tim makes his voice as warm as he can even when his watery smile somewhat undercuts the effort.
‘Guess who’s aromantic’, he says, jazz hands limp with unenthused movement (an act even sadder to consider when it’s addressed to an empty room).
A white ring is waiting on his desk on Monday. Sasha says it’s for Tim’s left hand middle finger whilst pointing to her own.
‘It made me feel a bit more comfortable. A bit more proud I guess’, she says it with a smile that’s almost nostalgic. And Tim smiles back, in a way that’s almost hopeful.