“Arthur,” Alfred dared place a hand over his, hoping to awaken him with his touch. “Arthur...are you listening to me?”
When he was young, before he had sought independence, all he would have to do is get a little teary-eyed for Arthur to come rushing to him, sweeping him up into his arms. When he was older, he would move around noisily, doing everything in exaggeration so that it was impossible for Arthur to ignore.
This is something Alfred was not used to. He was gentle, he was obnoxious, he jabbed, he goaded, he pleaded and begged but nothing could coax a lively response - or even a response at all - from Arthur.
“Arthur!” Alfred shook his arm.
Arthur, that movie was scary let me sleep with you tonight!
“Say something.”
Arthur looked at him but his mouth would not move.
“Hey, say something. Call me an idiot like you always do. You can yell at me if you want. You can even get angry at me...Hey, come on...” he shook him, harder this time. “Tell me I’m stupid. Tell me I’m a brat! Tell me you hate me even! Just - ” Alfred’s voice faltered, threatening to break. He could not take this anymore. He flung his arms around Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. “Just do something!” he cried.
“...Alfred.” A slow response.
“Yes?” he asked, almost giddy with relief.
“You’re crushing me. Let go.”
Hope soared and came crashing down. Alfred could fel it shatter into a million pieces, each one a shard into his heart.
“S – Sorry,” he reluctantly released him, returning to his chair.
“Alfred,” Arthur pointed to his face.
It was not until then did he realise that his eyes were a little wet around the corners. He blinked in confusion and felt them rolling down his cheeks. “Ah!” he hastily rose his arm to wipe them away. “O – oh. I must have gotten a little worked up. Dust in my eye. Um...dammit, it’s really gotten in there! Don’t worry, it’ll stop soon. It’ll stop. It’ll stop.”
Alfred scrubbed his face and laughed, assuring Arthur that it was just a little dust. Not to worry, he would not go blind. It would stop soon.
Only it did not.
The door burst open while he was still trying to regain his composure. Alfred was almost sure that it was Francis here to ‘rescue’ him again but instead Kiku leaned against the door frame, panting heavily.
“Alfred, please come quickly, it’s an emergency!” he cried.
“But - ”
“It’s an emergency!” he practically pushed him out of the door. Alfred had never seen him so flustered or so forceful. It was unlike the usually reserved Kiku to be so forward as to grab his hand, practically dragging him down the hallway.
“What’s going on?” Alfred asked as soon as they reached the holding room. He knew that this was where they were keeping the prisoners for the moment.
Ludwig and Yao were already crowding around the entrance with Feliciano desperate trying to peek over their shoulders by hopping from one foot to the other and Francis leaning against the wall with a look of distaste. They turned when Alfred approached, giving him enough space to squeeze through as if to say; ‘take a look for yourself.’
The captive was dead.
Alfred did not have to bend down to check the man’s pulse to know that it was already too late. That once arrogant, stubborn man’s face was twisted with fear, eyes open and glazed, blood running down his forehead.
Ludwig cleared his throat but before he could say something a piercing scream jolted them all from their positions.
“Ve, isn’t that Marianne’s voice?”
Something cold ran down Alfred’s spine. The source of that scream had come from down the hallway and down the hallway there was only...
“Arthur!” He pushed Yao and Ludwig out of the way, dearly praying that his fears were irrational.
Re: If you find me...[11/?]
When he was young, before he had sought independence, all he would have to do is get a little teary-eyed for Arthur to come rushing to him, sweeping him up into his arms. When he was older, he would move around noisily, doing everything in exaggeration so that it was impossible for Arthur to ignore.
This is something Alfred was not used to. He was gentle, he was obnoxious, he jabbed, he goaded, he pleaded and begged but nothing could coax a lively response - or even a response at all - from Arthur.
“Arthur!” Alfred shook his arm.
Arthur, that movie was scary let me sleep with you tonight!
“Say something.”
Arthur looked at him but his mouth would not move.
“Hey, say something. Call me an idiot like you always do. You can yell at me if you want. You can even get angry at me...Hey, come on...” he shook him, harder this time. “Tell me I’m stupid. Tell me I’m a brat! Tell me you hate me even! Just - ” Alfred’s voice faltered, threatening to break. He could not take this anymore. He flung his arms around Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. “Just do something!” he cried.
“...Alfred.” A slow response.
“Yes?” he asked, almost giddy with relief.
“You’re crushing me. Let go.”
Hope soared and came crashing down. Alfred could fel it shatter into a million pieces, each one a shard into his heart.
“S – Sorry,” he reluctantly released him, returning to his chair.
“Alfred,” Arthur pointed to his face.
It was not until then did he realise that his eyes were a little wet around the corners. He blinked in confusion and felt them rolling down his cheeks. “Ah!” he hastily rose his arm to wipe them away. “O – oh. I must have gotten a little worked up. Dust in my eye. Um...dammit, it’s really gotten in there! Don’t worry, it’ll stop soon. It’ll stop. It’ll stop.”
Alfred scrubbed his face and laughed, assuring Arthur that it was just a little dust. Not to worry, he would not go blind. It would stop soon.
Only it did not.
The door burst open while he was still trying to regain his composure. Alfred was almost sure that it was Francis here to ‘rescue’ him again but instead Kiku leaned against the door frame, panting heavily.
“Alfred, please come quickly, it’s an emergency!” he cried.
“But - ”
“It’s an emergency!” he practically pushed him out of the door. Alfred had never seen him so flustered or so forceful. It was unlike the usually reserved Kiku to be so forward as to grab his hand, practically dragging him down the hallway.
“What’s going on?” Alfred asked as soon as they reached the holding room. He knew that this was where they were keeping the prisoners for the moment.
Ludwig and Yao were already crowding around the entrance with Feliciano desperate trying to peek over their shoulders by hopping from one foot to the other and Francis leaning against the wall with a look of distaste. They turned when Alfred approached, giving him enough space to squeeze through as if to say; ‘take a look for yourself.’
The captive was dead.
Alfred did not have to bend down to check the man’s pulse to know that it was already too late. That once arrogant, stubborn man’s face was twisted with fear, eyes open and glazed, blood running down his forehead.
Ludwig cleared his throat but before he could say something a piercing scream jolted them all from their positions.
“Ve, isn’t that Marianne’s voice?”
Something cold ran down Alfred’s spine. The source of that scream had come from down the hallway and down the hallway there was only...
“Arthur!” He pushed Yao and Ludwig out of the way, dearly praying that his fears were irrational.