Green+Blue=Aquamarine
"Don't worry, he'll be home soon" Alfred said, smoothing back Peter's hair.
"Are you sure?" Peter asked, turning aquamarine eyes to Alfred.
"... Yes, I'm sure." He answered after a slight pause in which he doubted himself before strengthening his resolve; remember the latest letter Arthur had sent them.
'I'll be home soon, I love you both' the letter had read.
Peter didn't respond as he laid his head on Alfred's lap, closing his eyes and letting out a small sigh.
Alfred himself let out a similar sigh, leaning back against the wall as they sat in the shade. It was a hot day in July here in America and the war was still in full swing.
Arthur was a corporal in the army, not the American army of course but the British army. He was away on his tour of duty having been gone for nearly 3 years.
Before the war he and Arthur and Peter had lived in their cozy little flat in London. But as the threat of war began to get bigger and tension in Europe began to rise Arthur moved them to Alfred's hometown of Hope, Kansas.
The town was small, less than 500 inhabitants. They had bought a nice house, big enough for the three of them, with a porch and a nicely sized backyard for Peter.
Soon after making sure that Alfred and Peter were all settled in at the new house Arthur went straight back to London. He had been serving in the military for 5 years previous and had quickly risen up the ranks.
Alfred knew that Arthur enjoyed what he did. No, he didn't like hurting or killing people; he liked serving his country and helping to keep it safe.
Arthur was extremely smart, he could have become a lawyer like his parents had always wanted, he could have been anything. But he decided to join the army which led him to meeting Alfred, the blue eyed fighter pilot visiting from America.
And now Arthur was coming home.
They had been doing this since the letter came two weeks ago, they would wake up, eat, and then go to sit outside, waiting to hear the rumble of an engine, a shock of dirty blonde hair, or a familiar whistled tune.
There wasn't even the slightest hint of Arthur. He had gone from sending letters every week to getting a single letter with eight letters and a signature two weeks ago.
He rationalized that maybe Arthur was on a ship, or maybe he had been really busy tying up last minute details and had been delayed. But that only brought doubt. The damn krauts were sinking ships and what could be big enough to keep Arthur longer? Maybe he was injured, maybe he had been killed, maybe he wasn't coming back at all.
Peter shifted slightly in his lap, bringing him back to reality. He looked down to find the small boy sleeping soundly, facing Alfred's stomach as he napped. He lightly ran his fingers through Peter's hair, letting his fear be swept away by the pure calmness of the moment.
Maybe he was worrying too much, surely Arthur would come back to them, he wouldn't let anything stand between them. He had promised Alfred before he left for London that he would be back home soon, as if it was just another training trip and not a tour of duty in the war.
He sniffled slightly, wiping his eyes before letting his head fall back to rest against the wall of the house. He watched the clouds pass slowly in the sky, his eyes drooping closed slowly.
"Alfred, wake up, love." A gentle voice called.
"Artie?" he murmured confusedly as he opened his eyes slowly.
He was met with a pair of brilliant green eyes that were oh so familiar.
"Yes, poppet, it's me. I'll carry Peter, it's late and you should be inside." Arthur's words were soft as he carefully lifted the small figure half way curled on Alfred's lap.
Alfred simply nodded, not sure if this was a dream or not. He stood slowly, following Arthur into the house and up the stairs into Peter's bedroom where the older man gently tucked the boy in and kissed his forehead as if he hadn't been gone for almost 3 years.
Arthur then turned and gently took Alfred's hand in his, slowly tugging him out of the room and into the hallway before leading Alfred to their room. He sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to him, indicating that Alfred should sit also.
"Are you really back?" Alfred asked, squeezing Arthur's hand.
"Yes." Arthur's eyes were a warm shade of green a he looked at Alfred, taking him in and finally processing that he was home.
Alfred felt the tears from earlier start back up again, a knot in his throat keeping anything but sobs from escaping his mouth as he finally realized that Arthur was back and that it wasn't just a cruel dream. He felt warm arms wrap around him as Arthur gently shushed him, letting Alfred cry into his shoulder as he pulled his crying partner into his lap.
The crying must have woken Peter because he entered their room, also crying, as he flung himself onto the bed, slipping his arms in and embracing Arthur around the middle.
That night they fell asleep in one large tangle of arms and legs as they reassured themselves that everyone was where they should be, home.
I've never been to Hope, Kansas, that information came off the internet.
I've never had a family member who served in the military so none of this is my exact experience. But when I was younger and even now my dad has always been working, he's never had that 9-5 job in an office. My dad worked from 12 PM -10 PM at the airport in Los Angeles and later at O'Hare. He now works in a warehouse as the warehouse supervisor. He's gone from 9 AM till about 12 PM or later. With my school, his work, and the time we both spend out of the house I probably see my dad less than 24 hours a week.
It's really hard for me because when I was little and it was just me and him (we have my step-mom and half-sister now) I saw him so much more, he was the one solid thing in my life. When my mother fell short my dad was there. He dropped me off at preschool every day, he dropped me up and picked me up from my baby-sitters every day, he fed me and dressed me and tied my shoes every day.
Now when I see him he's usually either really tired or easily annoyed. The morning of the day that I wrote this marks the first decent "Hello, how are you" type of conversation we've had in more than a month.
So I may not know exactly what it's like to not see your dad or mom or husband or wife or kid for months but I do know what it's like when you hardly see them at all. It hurts; it hurts so very much to not be able to see loved ones. I probably did a pretty bad job at conveying all the hurt that comes with distance in the story but I tried.
This story is short, and it's meant to be. It wasn't supposed to be long or drawn out and it probably could have been better... I'll end up editing it latter.