"What's this?" the small Canadian asked, pointing to something on the wooden coffee table in the middle of the room. Smiling, Arthur reached for the object, a small compass, lifting Matthew into his lap at the same time.
"This is a compass." he said, green eyes sparkling. He loved having the children, and Matthew had only been here a month, but the blonde had proven he was a future gentleman already. "It tells you what direction you're going in." Arthur ruffled Matthew's silky hair, his smile growing at the giggle the child let out.
"What directions are there?" he asked next, seeming much more interested in this then Alfred, who was curled up on the couch, muttering something under his breath.
"Well, we have north, south, east, and west to begin with. Then, we have north east, south east, north west, and south west." the Englishmen said, pointing to the spots of the compass. "This little needle shows what way you're going." holding it out on the palm of his hand, Matthew stared at it curiously.
"So, that way," he began, pointing in front of them, "is south?"
"Exactly! You learn much quicker then the git over there." the boys' father said warmly and the "git" muttered something that sounded suspiciously close to "Shut up, Caterpillars." Ignoring him he bounced the Canadian on his knee for a few minutes before asking, "Anything else you would like to know?"
"Where's papa?" the child asked, pointing to the compass. Arthur felt his heart fall at the hopeful look that shone in the soft violet eyes, the orbs hardening slightly with determination. "He never finished teaching me French, and he said I could teach him English someday!" the boy continued, oblivious to the older man's sudden lapse of pain.
"Silly," he murmured, reaching up to stroke the hair that was so much like Francis' it hurt to even look at it now. "I'm right here, aren't I? Besides, I'll just hire a tutor." he asked in a shaking voice and laughed, the sound making Alfred glance at him, a hint of worry on his face.
"Of course you are." Matthew said, his voice sober, done speaking about the subject. Arthur said and pointed to the compass.
"Your fathers…your fathers to the south. A little to the east." he said before kissing the child forehead, setting him on the ground and patting the child's bottom. "You should go play outside with Alfred." he said and the other child instantly jumped up.
"Finally! You guys are sooo boring, you know that? C'mon Mattie, lets go chase stray dogs!"
"Don't! Oh, who am I kidding? Do not get Matthew bit Alfred!" he called after them, smiling. After a moment, he got a piece of paper and pen, writing a letter to Francis.
Dear Frog,
Your son misses you. You are a stupid git, come visit sometime, no one would be bothered too much if you did. I mean, you are a nuisance but you make the children happy.
I hate you,
Arthur Kirkland
Francis smiled upon receiving the letter, it was the closet to the "Please come back to me, I need you." he wanted so badly.
'Then again beggars can't be choosers I suppose.'