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Arthur's eyes narrowed and his mouth slowly grew into a devilish grin, a serpentine look plastered on to his face. After taking another drag from his cigarette, he turned to Alfred, emerald eyes augmented.
"I'll burn his fucking house to the ground."
"And today, we'll celebrate Luddy's birthday!"
Gilbert enthusiastically jabbed his hand into the air, the contents of the mug he held sloshing everywhere. Sofia softly giggled at his exuberance.
"Now," his eyes scanned the room, eventually landing on a figure with a pair of blue eyes and blonde hair slicked back. "We just have to wait for Mattie, and then we can start the party!"
"Gilbert loves you."
The statement was blunt, and Ludwig had said it with resounding confidence. The two fifteen year-olds stared at each other for a moment, until Matthew spoke.
"W-what?" He blundered, understanding but not quite believing.
"Gilbert loves you." Ludwig repeated.
The two sat in utter silence. Matthew looked about nervously, averting Ludwig's gaze. Instead, he decided upon assessing the make shift club house that Matthew, Gilbert, and Ludwig had created together. Sure, the house seemed as if it was about to fall down at any moment and hey, maybe there was no point in having a door since it barely ever opened and they had to climb through the window, but it was something the three of them had created together. A small club house, in the middle of nowhere. Matthew would rather be here, then at home.
"I know it's hard to believe," the bulky blond stated, snapping Matthew out of his reverie. "But you're all Gilbert ever talks about."
Had Ludwig called Matthew out to the club house to discuss Gilbert's… feelings?
"Ludwig, love is a strong word. I don't think your –"
"No." Ludwig cut through. "He loves you. It's not a bad thing, either. Because of you, Gilbert still attends school – only to see you. We were afraid of that with his education and – did you hear that?"
Matthew nodded. There were footsteps outside of the clubhouse. An oddity, because the only other people who knew of the clubhouse's whereabouts were Mathias and Alfred, and they didn't schedule a meeting today.
"Mattie? Are you there?" an ever familiar raucous voice boomed out, that could only have belonged to Alfred F. Jones. Matthew was about to respond, until a second voice joined in.
"You git, quit dawdling, there's no one here."
That voice. That was -
"Are you sure that we should be doing this, Arthur?"
Matthew and Ludwig both tensed, neither daring to break the silence. What was Arthur doing here? The clubhouse had only one and one specific rule – do not let Arthur Kirkland find out about it. You see, the clubhouse was built in a forest that belonged to part of the school property. It was illegal.
Which was all the reason Arthur needed to cause a fuss.
"You're the one who told me where it was, Jones. It's too late to have second thoughts."
Matthew cringed at this. Alfred… Alfred had promised Matthew that he wouldn't tell Arthur about it. But Matthew should have known. Alfred had a big mouth, and he was always sucking up to Arthur.
There was the striking sound of something being struck against paper, and then Arthur hissing, "Bloody hell, don't just stand there!" Matthew and Ludwig waited until the footsteps were gone before speaking.
"What was that?" they both asked in unison.
Their answer came quickly when the smoke suddenly filled the room, quickly and vastly expanding.
They both looked at each other in bewilderment, but both slowly understood the gravity of their situation.
Arthur had lit the clubhouse on fire.
Silently, the two bolted for the door, Matthew fervently turning the knob.
The door didn't open.
"I'm here!" Matthew shouted, huffing about.
"Finally!" Gilbert whistled, leaning back in his chair. "You kept Ludwig waiting!" He gestured towards Ludwig, who had a small smile on his lips.
"Sorry," Matthew apologized. "I was visiting Alfred today. I wasn't watching the time and I got a bit carried away."
With a muffled curse, Ludwig rammed his shoulder into the door, but the attempt was in vain.
"The window!" Matthew shouted, and the two scrambled for the window.
"You go first," Matthew urged.
There was a loud groan, and Ludwig looked up in time just to see one of the ceiling beams collapse.
Matthew lay on the hospital bed, eyes red, tears flowing down his cheeks. Gilbert stared in awe at the tightly wrapped bandages around the young boy's legs and around his torso – already which were becoming stained with red.
But Matthew didn't cry from physical pain.
"I'm sorry," Matthew said softly, voice barely even a whisper. "I tried s-s-s-so hard, but I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't lift it. If only I had tried harder, if only-"
Gilbert tuned Matthew out. The police had already told him what happened. The clubhouse was set on fire. One of the beams from above collapsed. Ludwig was trapped underneath. Matthew tried desperately to remove the debris. It was too heavy. Matthew refused to leave Ludwig alone. Matthew fainted. The firefighters came too late. They rescued Matthew.
Then the clubhouse collapsed.
"I see Ludwig looks well," Matthew said kindly, as he morosely stared at the picture of said blonde, whose hair was slicked black, eyes hesitant but nonetheless, a small smile was on his lips – just for this one picture.
"He would have been twenty-two today." Gilbert commented, his voice already slurred from the amount of alcohol he ingested.
"He was a good man." Matthew's voice was quiet and solemn.
Gilbert's voice cracked, under the pressure of having to use the past tense.
"He was."
A/N:
Have a nice day!
