Silent B
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Arthur is the guardian angel of the twins Mathew and Alfred.
He's protected them since they were young. The feelings he has for Alfred is love, but not in a parental sense.
He knows that Alfred would not feel the same way, and remains content protecting them.
Matthew encourages Arthur to tell Alfred, though there's a problem.
Alfred can't see him.
Pairings- USUK.
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Do you want other pairings?
Don't know if I should pair Matthew/Canada with Francis/France or Gilbert/Prussia.
Or maybe… leave him single?
*shrug* anyway, read.
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My name is Arthur Kirkland. I'm an angel, my job is to protect my charge or charges in this case.
I am in charge of twins, Matthew Williams and Alfred Jones.
I've been watching over them since they were a year old, another angel watched them prior.
They were bundles of energy, always getting into trouble. However, they were cute and innocent; they did not know any better.
Unknown to their parents, I would care for them when they (their parents) slept.
Mr. and Mrs. Jones were deep sleepers. They rarely woke up when their children cried.
It was normally Alfred who cried, he was scared of things bigger than him.
I suppose it was natural, since he was so small. Matthew cried as well, but never as loud.
As their angel, it was my duty to help them, but I suppose it was because of my parental instinct.
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I loved them.
Like how I would have loved my own children.
But I started to think differently about one of them…
I loved them.
However, I was not supposed to have fallen in love with one (of them)…
An angel falling in love with a human.
It was not meant to be.
Its not possible.
The price to pay, is too much.
Date- x/xx/xxxx
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It was a bright morning, the first day of school for both Matthew and Alfred.
Well, not their actual first day of school, they're 15 now, but people always call it that.
*sigh* Well, I suppose I should be happy for them or, at least for Matthew. Poor Matthew had to deal with his brother's antics over the summer.
Alfred practically begged Matthew to play games with him, go swimming, go to the beach, play sports (though Matthew wasn't very athletic), play video games, and watch horror movies.
Poor Matthew was worn out one week into their vacation.
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I floated over to Matthew's door and knocked on it a few times. "Matthew, time to wake up, you'll be late for school."
There was no answer, so I raised my voice a bit and knocked on his door once more. "Matthew! Wake up!
I heard a groan, so Matthew was awake. There was the shuffle of sheets and footsteps, the door opened and Matthew stared at me.
"Thanks for waking me up." He walked past me into the bathroom.
"Don't forget to wake your brother!" I called out as I headed to the kitchen.
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Mr. and Mrs. Jones were in the kitchen, Mrs. Jones making bacon and eggs, while her husband read the morning newspaper.
The kitchen was painted white, the floor was tiled. There were three windows; two were on the wall where the stove, fridge, cabinets, and sink were located. The other window was on the wall opposite of it. There wasn't much in the kitchen other than a round mahogany table with five matching chairs, and a vase that was placed on the windowsill (away from the stove).
I smiled and sat in the corner of the room, the house was not big, but it was home.
At least, it had been my home for the past 15 years.
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Their parents, Alicia Williams and Jonathan Jones, were what you would call beautiful.
Lightly tanned skin, sky blue eyes, and golden hair, everyone in this family had it.
Well, Matthew was a bit pale, but that was because he liked staying indoors, not that I blame the lad. I personally preferred staying indoors as well.
Alicia Williams was energetic, much like her son. She worked as a wedding planner.
Jonathan Jones was a lawyer, the jovial sort of fellow.
They were good parents, though they did tend to leave their kids unattended at times. I suppose it could have been because they trusted Matthew and Alfred. However, you could argue that they were just irresponsible.
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Matthew walked into the kitchen, dressed in his school uniform with his book bag on his back. He said a quick 'good morning' to his parents and sat down on a chair next to the table.
Mrs. Jones put the bacon and eggs she made on two plates and set them on the table.
Her husband jokingly asked if she was going to make him breakfast as well.
She smiled and kissed his cheek, then returned to cooking, telling him that his coffee was done.
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Matthew went to the fridge and took out a glass of orange juice. He glanced at me, as if asking 'are you hungry?'
I chuckled, "I'm not hungry Matthew. Did you wake your brother?"
Matthew nodded and sat back down, eating his breakfast.
Even after all this time, it was cute that he was always worried for me.
He was convinced that angels had to eat to stay healthy.
We could if we wanted to, but we didn't have to. I've never felt hungry, thus I never really ate much.
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Alfred walked into the room, looking as disheveled as ever.
His uniform was wrinkled and his tie wasn't even put on dropped his book bag on the ground next to his chair.
My hands twitched, the urge to fix his tie was strong.
Matthew did say a few times that I was like his third parent. I suppose that is because I get worked up over small things like this.
Alfred sat down in the chair and ate, talking with his mouth full.
"This is going to be awesome Mattie!"
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If I could, I would have scolded him for such a thing, and then I would tie his tie.
However, I'm sure that would scare Alfred, as well as his parents. They couldn't see me, only Matthew could.
Why? I suppose its because he's grown up, or something.
They weren't very clear when they explained it to me. It could have something to do with their child-like innocence.
In many ways, Alfred and Matthew were still children. Alfred acted like one, constantly, while Matthew was a bit more mature. But even so, it was Alfred who could no longer see me.
It was confusing…
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I suppose its because they were my first 'charges' that I feel so protective over them.
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As soon as they finished their breakfast, Alfred got up and glanced at the clock. He cursed under his breath. Honestly where did he learn such manners?
"Gotta go! Bye mom, bye dad!" He rushed out the door.
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The idiot forgot to grab his book bag.
"Alfred! Your book bag!" Matthew took it and ran after him.
Ah Matthew, why is your brother not as perceptive (as you are)?
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I sighed, Alfred is Alfred, Matthew is Matthew. There is no point in thinking about it.
I walked out the door and followed them to school. My sandals made no noise on the pavement.
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As soon as they got to school, they went their separate ways.
Matthew had history, while Alfred had chemistry. Matthew's class was on the fourth floor; Alfred's was on the fifth.
You might be wondering who I would follow, how hard it must be to choose.
You're wrong.
Alfred can take care of himself. He is tall and strong.
He might stand out, but he does not get into any fights, rather, no one ever picks a fight with him.
Matthew on the other hand, is shy, and tends to blend into the background. He is picked on because he is quiet and will not talk back.
There is no contest. I will stay with Matthew.
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"Are you excited Matthew?" I asked floating beside him.
He gave me a shaky smile, he was nervous.
"Just a little. I hope I can make some friends."
I smiled, "Of course you will."
He walked into his classroom and sat down in the back. Taking his books out of his book bag, he put them on the desk, ready for class.
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"Matthew, if you stay back here, no one will notice you."
Most of those ruffians sit back here as well.
Matthew smiled, looking straight ahead at the black board, "Its fine. I like it here."
I sighed and sat down on the desk next to his. "Alright."
Matthew smiled at me, and then turned his attention to the teacher that just walked into the room.
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More kids arrived, the teacher, Mr. Anderson (or was it Andrews?) started taking attendance. He gave out worksheets to them.
He looked like he was in his fifties or sixties. I wonder why he hadn't retired yet, retirement would be better than teaching a class full of foul mouthed teenagers, except for ones like Matthew of course.
He had a grey mustache and grey curly hair. He was also a bit chubby. He reminded me of a character in a game Alfred used to play. What was his name again?
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"Matthew Williams!"
Matthew jerked his head up and raised his hand shyly." Here…"
The man nodded and moved to the next name. Matthew sighed in relief and went back to the worksheet that their teacher had given out.
I walked over to Matthew's desk and looked at the worksheet.
It was a review worksheet, it talked about WWII and how it happened, rather, what caused it to happen.
Matthew was doing rather well, he had finished five of the six questions.
Then again, the answers were in the paragraphs….
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i wanted to help him but...
Well, having a guardian angel tell you the answers may be considered cheating.
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The bell rung and the students filled out quickly. Matthew held his books to his chest and put his book bag on; he did not want to be late to his next class I presume.
I sighed, following Matthew as he quickly walked through the hall and to the staircase.
I wonder how Alfred's doing?
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Matthew's second period was guitar, which was on the first floor nearby the entrance.
Alfred was there as well, he must have told Matthew to ask for that class.
Well, it was easier for me since I could watch over the both of them.
I sat down on the top of the closet, everyone else had already taken all the seats and I would rather not sit on the floor.
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I noticed another guardian angel like me, he had short wavy blonde hair and green eyes like mine.
He sat by the window, unlike me, he wore a white dress shirt and black pants.
I suppose some people still care about their appearance even in death.
His charge (I suppose it was his charge, he was the person closet to him) looked astonishingly like him, short wavy hair, blue eyes, and… god was that a French accent?
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Well, now I know who to keep Matthew away from, nothing good comes from the French…besides their food.
The other noticed me and waved, I waved back, after all, we both have the same um… occupation, and there would be no point if we fought.
The teacher talked about the guitar, the parts of the guitar, the neck, the bridge, the frets, the body and the nut.
Yes, go ahead and laugh.
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The teacher, Mr. Morice (pronounced more-e-sss) gave out guitar books. I found it a bit funny that Alfred's name was on them, a man named Alfred had written the book.
They turned to the first few pages teaching them how to hold the guitar properly, the 'rest position' when they weren't playing, and told them to practice the first song.
Which was… all Es. Well, the first string open E.
According to the him anyway.
I'm sorry, I have a habit of listening even when I'm not trying to.
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It was rather amusing to see everyone, especially Alfred, excited about playing one string.
Matthew had the right idea, playing and practicing calmly.
I sighed, I suppose that's another thing different about them.
Oh well, Angels aren't allowed to judge.
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I leaned back, resting against the wall, careful not to accidentally hit my wings.
Seems like it was just yesterday they were children.
I chuckled to myself, time flies doesn't it?
I glanced at the only other angel in the room.
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I haven't been an angel for a long time, so I don't know everything but…
When does an angel leave their charge? When they are not needed anymore?
I… don't want to leave them.
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~A/n
Any names used were purely fictional, if there are people (Mr. Andrews/Anderson?) that teaches History, I have never met him. No seriously, I picked a name at random.
(its strange, whenever I try to make up something, 99% of the time, its real. I'm not joking.) It popped into my head randomly. Though I will base Mr. A on my history teacher. He's a nice guy, really. (a bit of a push over but…)
- a few days after I wrote this, I got a e-mail from someone named Mrs. Anderson.
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Yeah, it freaked me out too.
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Like I said, Matthew & Alfred are both 15, they're sophomores.
Francis, having his cameo here, is 17.
Arthur is… um… hm.. I'll tell you later… he's actually pretty young for an angel…
The other angel, Francis's guardian is William. He won't be appearing much, only here and there. He resembles France/Francis a lot. The differences are that his hair is a bit shorter, his eyes are green, and he doesn't have stubble.
(he's my Europe, cause everyone seems to think Europe is a girl… no clue why…*shrug* oh well.)
~They're in America, just saying this now…~
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~the name before was Metabolic, because I was listening to that song when I wrote this.
I changed it when I found out that metabolic meant 'life processes' (and stuff like that).
Besides, this new title is a bit more original yes? It actually means something.
To me at least. It's a hint. For what? Wait and see.
Well, I suppose that's all, have a nice day, oh and review.
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~TBA~