What he doesn't know won't hurt him.
That's what my mother would tell me when she let me in on the surprises she gave my dad. That couldn't have been more true than anything else in the world.
I was always afraid of what I didn't know. I was afraid of the dark, because I didn't know what lay in it. I was afraid of ghosts, because I didn't know if they were going to hurt me. I was afraid of strangers, because I didn't know if they were good or bad. Most of all, I was afraid of death, because I didn't know when it would come to me.
I didn't know Arthur Kirkland, but he knew me. We went to school together since high school, when he just moved to the states from England. He was pale, almost cream colored, and he was awfully skinny. He had messy blonde locks and huge eyebrows, but somehow, they suit him. What I noticed most though, were his eyes. They were like two orbs of the most precious emeralds, swirling with mystery.
That's all I knew about him, but apparently he knew all about me. He knew I was loud, but only because I didn't want to be forgotten. He knew I always acted happy, because I didn't want others to think I was sad. He knew that I wanted to get to know him, but I didn't know how to start. So he took the first step.
"Hi, my name is Arthur, Arthur Kirkland. I'm from England"
"Hello, I'm Alfred F. Jones. I'm American."
Arthur chuckled, "I can tell. Would you mind if I sat here?"
"No, go ahead."
It was during lunch. I remember being so excited, I was finally going to be able to get to know Arthur Kirkland. It wasn't the best way to start, but it was how we became great friends, and later, much more.
I remember the day I had asked Arthur out. We were our first year of college and we were dorm mates. I remember that look of surprise as I bought him flowers, knocking on our door and shoving them in his face before asking him on a date.
Knock, knock.
Arthur looked through the peep hole and saw Alfred standing outside with his hands behind his back. He was dressed nicely, Arthur noted; A crisp, pressed suit with a tasteful blue tie to match his eyes.
"Alfred, you git. You better have not left your keys here again," Arthur semi-yelled as he opened the door. Really, the American could be quite forgetful.
"Arthur, go on a date with me!" was all he heard before he was met with a face full of roses.
"Alfred, w-what is the meaning of this?" Arthur asked, his face flushing as red as one of Antonio's prized tomatoes. He could hear his heart beating inside his chest, hoping this was what he thought it was.
"I said, will you go on a date with me." Alfred's face was equally red as Arthur's. "Today."
Arthur willed his blush away. "O-of course. Just let me change into something more formal," he said as he went into the room and allowed Alfred to step inside. He changed into a button up and trousers, donning on a deep green tie and light green sweater vest. "Alright, let's go."
"You look great! Your tie matches your eyes," Alfred complimented.
"Yes, well you're not half bad yourself," Arthur said back, as his blush began to creep back. They both left the dorm, hand in hand, with Alfred's keys tucked safely in his pocket.
I had my first kiss that night. Everything went beautifully. I took Arthur out to a restaurant, not French, and lent him my jacket as we walked back home. He looked cute in it. Standing outside, we leant in on just the right moment, our lips meeting. They molded together almost as if they were made for each other. I remember it so well.
Our relationship was far from perfect. We fought a lot, but it was never serious, and we always made up.
"How dare you call my cooking terrible!"
"Have you even tasted it, let alone see it? Come on Arthur, even a starving rat wouldn't eat that stuff!"
"You're just tasteless, that's all!" Tears were already welling inside his eyes.
Alfred instantly regretted it. Pulling Arthur into a hug, he apologized profusely as Arthur's tears escaped, streaking down his pale face. Alfred lifted Arthur's face so that their eyes would meet. Arthur's green eyes looked into Alfred's blue ones, showing hurt.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." Alfred said.
He brought Arthur's face to his, kissing him passionately to prove his apology. Arthur's hands wound up in Alfred's golden blonde locks as Alfred wound his arms around Arthur's thin waist, pulling him closer. Arthur trialed his hands up and down Alfred's well-toned chest, feeling his muscles stretch beneath them.
They later found themselves on the bed, panting in each other's arms. Alfred hugged Arthur tighter as the Brit snuggled up to his chest.
"I love you Arthur."
"I love you too, Alfred."
That night was a lot of our firsts. It was our first big argument, our first time making love, and our first time saying 'I love you.' Nevertheless, it was one of my favorite moments with Arthur.
I remember our first anniversary. It was our first year being in a relationship together, but it was also our five year anniversary to becoming friends.
I took Arthur out on a date. I was going to propose to him. I knew it was too soon, but I was confident he would say yes. He was sending me hints the past month, talking about how we would have a great future together, living with each other and someday adopting children. I got the hint.
We had just come out from a restaurant. It was late, and the streets were almost deserted. I was lost in thought, debating on how I would ask Arthur. We could walk to the park, and I could ask him there. Or we could go to that little hill I found, and watch the twinkling city lights together. I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice the speeding car heading towards us until it was too late.
"Alfred! Look out!"
"What?"
Arthur pushed me out of the way. I remember hitting the pavement in the sidewalk, hearing Arthur's strangled cry as he was hit, and feeling his blood splatter beneath my feet. I ran towards his mangled body, hot tears running down my face as I held him and cried. It should have been me!
"Arthur! Arthur, oh god Arthur, please! Don't die! Don't leave me!"
"Alfred…I love you…always…"
"Arthur no! No! NO!"
I couldn't be a hero. I couldn't save him. I held on to him, sobbing. Even as he stopped breathing, even as the sirens came on, even as then paramedics came to take him away, I wouldn't let go. I was clinging on to the one hope, the one person I knew I loved, that one person who I would have spent the rest of my life with. I should have watched where I was going. I should have been more careful. I should have never met him.
If I didn't know Arthur Kirkland, none of this would have happened. If I hadn't known him, we never would have become friends. If we never became friends, we never would have been lovers. If we never would have become lovers, I wouldn't have taken him out on what would be our last date. If I hadn't taken him out, he wouldn't have died. He never would have died if I didn't know him.
If I didn't know Arthur, I wouldn't have been out there, crying, sobbing uncontrollably as the paramedics took him away. If I didn't know Arthur, I wouldn't have had to go to his funeral, and cry my heart out again as I stared at the casket of the one person I had ever loved. It hurt me so much. My heart felt like it was ripped apart, as though Arthur took it with him when he went to heaven. Everything hurt.
My mother was right, what I don't know won't hurt me. But what I did know hurt me in more ways than I could ever imagine.
"What they don't know won't hurt them. But what they do know will."
Author's Note:
Sorry for the shortness. Any advice/reviews/comments would be helpful. Thank you for reading.