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Photographs

~AN APH FANFICTION~

Warnings: Rated M, Human AU, Male Slash,
Contains suggestive themes and strong language.
Don't Like? Don't Read!, F&F, Please Review
Pairings: USUK Primarily, FrUK, SpUK, SpaBel

Beta Read by: Tobi Schroedinger

I don't own APH whatsoever.

Chapter 1: Aperture

(In Medias Res)

-o0o-

My love, even if you hurt me a million times, I'd still forgive you over and over again.
Just come back to me, wrap your arms around me… let me feel your warmth once more.
I'll give up everything to see you, hold you, turn back time and stop it from ticking.
That way you'll never have to leave.

And then you can promise me…

to never make me feel this kind of pain ever again.

…

…

The half-lighted evening was entirely still. A young man who was walking fast suddenly broke into a dangerous run across a thoroughfare. Succeeding loud beeps had the street flow drawn into a split-second halt. The unexpected honks of befuddled vehicles were deafening but none of those bore a single decibel of sound into his ears. When he had reached the other side of the road, he staggered and almost choked catching up his own breath.

The medium-format camera he carried seemed to have been smashed on hard, concrete pavement. Its lens hood was chipped beyond repair and the wide-angle lens itself bore a sharp web of cracks. The camera's display panel appeared to have met the same fate and bled out into an ugly black colour. Although these costly investments were ruined and shattered, it wasn't that kind of damage that had put the young man in utter shock.

At that very moment, no words could ever describe the surreal shock that melted his entire world into a vague blur. He never thought everything would turn out that way. It was just too impossible. The way things concluded allowed overwhelming despair to slash a gaping wound into his chest. The pain kept reaching his mind and ripping out what's left of his scarce sanity.

Trembling hands dug into the four pockets of his trousers. He searched for a handkerchief but there was none. All he could do was to raise his scarf into his half-closed mouth, biting it very hard to restrain an impending scream. He felt as if he was about to burst out but even tears were held back by his extreme disbelief on what had happened.

'No way. Why him? Why never again?'

He sat down on a metal sidewalk bench near a flickering street light.

By then, reality began to dawn inside him as warm tears finally started to roll down his cold face.

The night turned into a freezing rage, seeping through every inch of his skin. It was so cold that he felt like his jacket wasn't even enough anymore. He wasn't sure if the cold was from the evening air or just from his centre, deep within. Trembling hands desperately clutched through the hopeless side pockets of the clothing. Then there was something that felt like thick paper inside. He pulled it out.

It was a photograph. Two people smiling. Happy.

'Oh and I will take photographs of us together, so you won't forget. That is, if I'll die this day.'

A voice kept on going and going, screaming regret in every whispered word.

…

…

"…how will you spend this day if it happens to be the last day you'll ever live?" A young man who was peacefully watching a few strolling strangers down the street suddenly presented his companion this unexpected question. His curious eyes, the colour of cornflowers, shifted sideways and lingered towards another pair which was only unmoving. His gaze eagerly waited for a response, which had taken a short while.

"I don't know, Al. Maybe sulk myself into oblivion? It's my last day alive. Anything I do on that day won't even matter anyway." A smaller-framed man only replied dryly towards such untimely words. His body was positioned in an opposite way of his companion, quiet eyes staring blankly through the plain concrete floor of the rooftop.

The two were at their favoured place, slowly passing time and leaning before the partly-shaded brick edge of their apartment block's rooftop. It was a rather typical-looking place but still very neat. With the gentle white noise of exhaust fans, the sight of momentarily blissful potted plants and the occasional bedding gently swaying in the breeze, the place gives off quite a peaceful ambiance.

After a little bit of thinking with a face wearing a disapproving frown, the other male immediately chortled out. "Eh? Is that it? If ever this was going to be my last day, I would eat all the ice cream that I could, with all the flavors I want and play video games all day! That way, I'll die very very happy." With that, he gave an enthusiastic grin at the other one who just started getting busy tapping on his phone to even pay attention.

"Right. Something very interesting to do before perishing." Sensing his young companion's usual exuberant mood through the corner of his eye, he nonetheless still flicked a stare back and smiled for this little snarky comment to express a bit of interest even though he never really wanted to. Then as fast as the extent of that tiny piece of attention, he came back again into tapping his SMS.

Even so, for the one whose blue eyes shifted at the same blue skies, it seemed enough.

"But of course, I would only do those things with you, Arthur... only with you."

It was mid-afternoon, a Saturday in the middle of summer and its unpredictable temper. Al remembers how just yesterday, the skies seemed to have a permanent blanket of grey clouds. Now, as his vision swept through the same vastness, it simply looked so clear, high and infinite. It almost made him feel a very pleasant feeling of freedom, if not only for the inevitable constraints of ruthless heat.

"Oh well, if that's the case then I will take photographs of us together… so you won't forget. Well... That's what I want, if I'll die this day."

After correcting a few mis-tapped letters on his SMS, Arthur suddenly came up with those words, uttering them out in an almost insipid manner. Even though his reply would only feel awkward and late, he still voiced those words— the kind of words he only thought the other might want to hear.

If Al even felt that awkward blandness, his expression didn't show any of it nor did he speak of such a feeling. All he just did was to step away from the half-wall and enthused in his usual vigorously loud voice, "Hey dude, let's go down and have ice cream. I'mma overheat right now, my head's freakin' killing me."

Arthur's eyes remained steady, anticipating for his text message to be sent. He afterwards curiously arched one of his distinctive but striking eyebrows, seeming to know that his companion had just said something but couldn't seem to draw the exact, specific words.

"Alfred, what… come again?" He stared up, flashing his pair of pale green and amber eyes.

"I said, we should head down and have something cold to eat…" Alfred replied in gentle crispness with a voice that seemed to wonder why he wasn't heard when he was already speaking so pert and loud. After a short pause in words and firm flicks of gesticulations, he added, "…like ice cream or something."

Arthur then immediately pocketed his phone and pulled away from where he was leaning. After habitually patting dust away from his back, he fitted over his satchel and long lens case along with the existing camera bag. Al almost came forward to help him but he only refused the offer with a quick gesture of his hand. The photography kit was really heavy enough to cause him a dull pain. However, in all stubbornness, he simply just ignored it.

"Okay then, let's go." He flashed a quick smile back towards Alfred and walked right away.

Alfred in turn, quickly picked up his own rucksack which was beside Arthur a while ago and rushed up to meet his companion's footsteps.

Both of them sauntered nonchalantly towards the rooftop door, thoughts running wild but lips shut quiet. As they stepped down the indoor emergency staircase, Alfred felt a rush of heat that had his hands digging into his pockets, searching for a handkerchief. When he finally pulled out one, he immediately wiped it across his beading forehead. Underneath his little finger peeked out one small corner of the white cloth. It bears an elegant, loopy hand-embroidered "A. Kirkland" and a small pink and green rose at the bottom.

Arthur noticed it and he quickly snarled out a comment.

"Alfred… I believe THAT is mine." He pointed a finger and then crossed his arms in utter displeasure. For the life of him, he already couldn't count how many times he had emphasized his dislike against people using his personal effects without even caring for a proper permission.

And despite all of those instances, what displeased him the most is that Al seemingly doesn't care for anything but a cheap giggle.

"Return first the hankie I lent you. Then, I will return this to you."

"Lent me?" Arthur scoffed. "You gave that to me, you git!"

Rebuked, the other one frowned and playfully pouted his lips as a cute tease.

Arthur sighed and palmed his forehead in response, blasé but exceedingly tired over Al's the ever-recurring display of childish mock-sulking.

"Stop misplacing your bloody handkerchiefs so that you'll never have to take mine for yourself!" He snapped out very abrasively. He could've just let it drop if that was the first time Alfred had ever taken a hanky out of his accessory drawer. But then again, ever since they moved in together, the young man's worsening habits had him always invading into Arthur's drawers thieving for either some facecloth, ties… even socks!

As his thoughts flew over every single one those little frustrations, each of them inevitably weighed down a much larger burden that he had so long hid inside his unperturbed shell. The fingers of his hands folded tightly into fists. He kept them firmly closed as if he were to desperately clutch all of those emotions that are gradually seeping from the cracked doors of his wits.

If only I could tell him about it.

Alfred, on the other hand, could only watch his beloved stomp off several down-steps in front of him. He was all aware that Arthur was ticked off about the handkerchief but still, he can't help but feel that it wasn't really about the handkerchief at all. He was also perfectly aware of the fact that Arthur was never the kind to openly talk about his problems. Even so, Alfred still truly wished that he was trusted enough to have a share of whatever burden his love might have been taking all by himself. If by any chance there is one.

If only I could make him tell me.

Even if that situation only seemed impossible to happen, he still reached out and gently intertwined his hand into Arthur's own, just in case if he finally decides to let him step inside his most private space. As Arthur stalled at the gesture, Alfred squeezed his hand and affectionately asked him, "Is there something wrong? Are you okay?"

Arthur's eyes only slowly rolled and locked directly towards the other's sincere ones. His other hand gripped itself firmly on his satchel's leather strap. He wanted to speak but the silence that stalled between the fourth and third floors only drowned him in hesitation. His breath hitched and he breathed out, forcing a calm smile and taking a few steps up to meet his lover's face.

"I'm sorry… everything's alright. You don't have to worry about anything, Al."

Alfred embraced his partner and gently kissed his forehead through stray golden locks that are a bit brighter than his own. He sighed long and hard. His hand gave a piercingly reassuring stroke on the clothed skin under it and then once more, firmly clasped its fingers through Arthur's hand. Al had always thought that they were and always had been a perfect fit.

"If there's anything, remember that you can always tell me, 'kay?" For a little while, he closed his eyes and pursed his lips. "Everything, Arthur… you can tell me everything."

Every single one of those words somehow only made Arthur's pain even more pronounced rather than soothed. His unmoving eyes defocused from his lover's arm towards the steel railings of the staircase. In Alfred's arms, he had only felt nothing but the purest, generous warmth. There, within Alfred's chest, lies a very kind heart that only beats for him. He was lucky indeed. Yet, deep inside, why does he feel that wretched detachment?

Alfred...
Why do you have to be so kind?

He wanted this relationship— Arthur kept on reminding that to himself over and over. He knows he can't afford to lose all the feelings he had finally believed in. He can't be turning back again towards living a life where love is nothing but a power play, a ridiculous tug-of-war where manipulation becomes the rope and all reason gambled in between.

Back then, obsession and insatiability intoxicated him every single day of his life. He gave more than he could give and took much more than what his lovers could even bear to lose. His crazed, obsessive thinking had crumbled his very ability to trust any person that lies with him beneath his sheets. Dreading the pain of being manipulated, he often fell into doing the manipulation instead.

He could never say that everything had instantaneously changed the moment Al came into his life. However, he could swear on the fact that day after day he woke up into an increasingly different world. Alfred never gave up when he pushed him away countless times before. When he closed doors, Al blows up the windows. That childlike, bubbly… tactless young man cared like he was the only person in the world to him. Al was always there, shouting his existence. He was a nuisance, a terribly endearing and exasperating nuisance. And before he knew it, he was swept away into a reality that seemed so different… too different.

When did I even start to feel so distant?
If I'll continue to stay by his side… won't it be utter selfishness?

"I love you." Alfred tenderly said, almost mumbling.

Arthur gently pulled himself away, giving a reassuring smile. "I love you too."

'Everything's alright.' The previous words Arthur had said bounced back and forth inside his own mind.

I have lied to you countless of times, Alfred... Even right now, I am lying to you.
And I know that I don't even deserve to ask you for any kind of forgiveness.

"Let's get going? Ice cream's waitin' downstairs!" The younger one was then back into feeling enthusiastic towards finally cooling down his throbbing hot weather headache.

"Of course." Arthur faintly uttered back.

The dreadfulness he felt hammered even more into his feelings until it can't go any deeper. He really could no longer bear any more of it and all he wanted was just to break the silence he had kept for so long. But then, a tormenting anxiety stirred ruthlessly within his distraught mind, making him entirely voiceless. That anxiety lies between the fear of further hurting someone who was nothing but kind to him and the fear of making the mistake of letting him go. Either way, he knew that both of them will suffer a life-shattering loss. However, he must make a choice— and that choice should be the least selfish one.

He has to give him up. Break up and part ways with him... for good.

Alfred will be hurt but he'll eventually get over me, won't he? And he shall move on… with someone much better than I could ever wish to be.

Arthur's frail smile faded into a sad but accepting tinge. Yet despite the calmness in his actions, deep within his honest thoughts, he was completely terrified.

Both of them reached the bottom by mere minutes. Al, still fondly holding Arthur's hand, opened the heavy utility door using his other arm and elbow with ease. Finally, they were now standing in the small ground lobby of the flat building. There aren't quite many people walking across the hall that time of day. It was rather empty and almost silent with the exception of muffled, dull automobile sounds from afar. Al squeezed Arthur's hand again and drew him closer, whispering next to his ear.

"Do you have plans for tonight?"

Arthur looked up with a light sense of surprise. "Why?"

"I have something that I've been meaning to say to you." Al replied straight and quite sombrely, making Arthur worry a little bit. "We have to talk about things… about something."

"Does it take much time? You could say it now, if you want to." Arthur edged himself more towards the question for he distantly doesn't feel quite good about what Al was going to say.

"Arthur, I—"

However, in the middle of Alfred's response, Arthur's phone suddenly rang and vibrated inside his pocket. The moment he heard the first note of the tone designated for his work calls, he then had no other choice but to immediately squirm away and excuse himself from their conversation. After pulling out his phone, he turned his polo shirt-clad body away from Al and responded collectedly towards the incoming call.

"Yes, this is Arthur Kirkland, speaking." He said, the fingers of his other hand playing with the zipper tab of his camera bag.

Alfred could only hear an almost inaudible, hoarse electronic murmur coming out from other's mobile phone. He just stared intently at Arthur's nodding head and firm, slender back. His lips slightly twitched at its corners, sensing the intense fondness in his chest that he always felt while looking at his greatest love. Then again, because of that very fondness, he also felt an inexplicable piercing ache which strangely felt both utterly sweet and cruel. Every time he glanced at Arthur, he couldn't help but to feel that way.

He always looked so damn confident, divine… fearless. Everyone's saying that. However, what they don't know is what I could easily see… that at certain times, Arthur Kirkland could be fragile.

"Yes, I understand. I'll be there on time." Hearing that, Alfred saw him end the call and put his phone away. He then shallowly blinked as his loved one walked back to him and gently elbowed his side.

"Let's get going. I have work at 6 PM."

"What? I thought you're already free for the rest of the day?" Al protested, hands on his waist.

"Mr Honda couldn't get to that ad shoot today so I'll have to compensate. Those editorials are simply not going to shoot themselves, aren't they?" Alfred then only received a tap on the shoulder. "Now, get your skates on because we only have a bit of time to buy your ice cream."

Arthur walked out from the apartment entrance first and after a second or two of pausing, Al followed and caught up to him. He afterwards glanced into his tan-strapped wristwatch and released a sigh of relief.

It's almost a quarter past four, I still have about two hours to accompany Al and I'll be heading straight to the studio. Good thing, I already have my camera and the needed lenses with me so I really don't have anything to go back up and fetch.

Arthur calmly calculated off the minutes that might be spent on walking towards his beloved's favourite place for helpings of vanilla ice cream. As he stared onto the quartz, he could almost hear every passing tick. Each of those miniscule sounds in his mind all blended in rhythm with the light patter of their footsteps and the distant sound of the hectic city.

They must get there by ten minutes or else if Al would burble anything about his budding career as a photojournalist, he would get to listen to it for an hour or so and eventually he will be late for work. The expected cramming of time already started to make him feel a little exhausted.

"Y'know, I don't really mind you not going with me if you think there's too little time left for us. I mean, it's already four-something, right?"

"No. I want to go with you. There is still time."

Alfred just gave a nod and then focused straight ahead. Both of them walked fast enough through the sidewalk even against groups of people mostly walking in the opposite direction. However, when they reached the pedestrian crossing and took a chance with the placebo button, the traffic still expectedly took forever to halt in its respective red light. After a short while, the part of sidewalk behind them only filled up with more lingering pedestrians.

While still waiting, Arthur felt an incoming call again through his pocket. He took out his phone once more and answered the caller, whose number was anonymous to his address book's memory. Although, it wasn't actually as anonymous when it comes to his mind's own memory.

As he spoke a quick bland hello, his heart began to pound insanely.

"Mon ami… when are you going to visit me here in the city of love? It's been a long time and I'm starting to get bored already!"

"Francis, please do somebody else, I'm taken." Arthur spoke out carefully not for others to hear him.

"Quoi? Is that for real, my love? Am I really hearing you rejecting me this time?"

"Yes."

"So what? I thought you had no problem whatsoever on having two—"

Arthur tapped the end call button.

"Who was that? The studio cancelling your appointment?" Al pulled himself closer to his companion and asked softly, bending his head more towards the other one's ear.

"No, just some unimportant person." As soon as Arthur finished firmly uttering his reply, the nondescript walk sign flashed in green. And even if Al would want to ask more and satisfy his curiosity, other pedestrians already had them pushed over to cross the busy street.

Alfred could only glance at Arthur as they crossed the street together. The two of them, side-by-side amidst the unforgiving crowd, Al grabbed his love by the elbow to protect him from the trampling rush of the horde. The lively city ambiance under the pristine blue sky, the sight of Arthur's hair gleaming against the sunshine and his eyes that hadn't been more greener… all of these made that precious, captured moment imprinted in his memory forever. He would never ever trade that piece of moment with anything else in the world.

…I don't need anything more than this.
It's more than enough. It's actually a hundred years' worth of blessing.
And I don't really have any reason to be discontented about my life…

… if he's happy.

"Alfred, can we stop for a minute?" Arthur suddenly grasped his fingers firmly upon Al's arm. The two of them immediately stopped just outside of a furniture shop, taking shade from the dark green awnings of the store windows. He then continued, "My shoulder's just feeling a little bit cramped… "

Al innocently smiled in amusement, his ensuing small laugh causing Arthur to raise one of his prominent eyebrows. Seeing that, the former stopped right away, frowned a little bit and said, "Okay, okay. Hand me over your stuff, I'll carry it for you."

Arthur immediately handed his personal satchel and his long lens case carrying adapters, supports and a telephoto lens over to Alfred. However, he had left his camera bag hanging free on his shoulder as he honestly thought that it would be a bit too much if he made Al carry all of those things.

He held a calm stance even while his companion still kept on throwing amused stares towards him. When the teasing smile persisted, he then beckoned Alfred with his hand, silently asking him to quit laughing and hurry on their way.

"Hey, you could really pass that camera bag to me. Your shoulder is aching. I just think it needs some rest for a while." Although he looked amused, Al was entirely serious in his suggestion. He afterwards gripped on the strap of Arthur's camera bag.

Arthur squirmed away and removed Al's hand. "I'm okay now, really. I can carry this thing very well. Guess I just needed a little help in that heavy lens case." He tried to convince Alfred by flexing his shoulder joint. However, as he lifted his elbow, a click was heard and the pain became obvious on his face.

Al chuckled. "Ha! You really need more exercise to build up your endurance and flexibility. You're only twenty-three and there you are acting like an old man. Still, don't abuse your shoulder by always carrying too much freakin' heavy stuff."

"It's fine, really… I could manage this on my own." Arthur weakly smiled, keeping his very best on suppressing his surging irritation.

However, even though Alfred sensed a bit of his beloved one's annoyance, he still insisted, "Hand me that bag over, please. I will carry it for you so you could rest. Listen, I don't really mind… can't you see—"

"Just… just shut up, okay?! Don't treat me as if I'm fucking made of cottonballs!" Arthur hissed. He would be nothing but surprised on how those words came out of his mouth. Confused, he darted his eyes away as his heart felt even more and more constricted. He wanted to say an immediate apology, but he was rendered speechless. In his wanting to keep Al from seeing the troubled look on his face, he instinctively concealed himself by turning his back away.

However, as he stepped forward and started to leave Alfred behind, his body inherently expects to be hugged tightly once again. His hand was even entirely sure that it would receive warmth from the loving caress of Al's own by that very minute.

But instead, there was none. All that's present was this awkward sound of silence between them which effortlessly blocked out every bit of noise from a few strolling strangers and passing double-deckers.

Feeling hurt and heavily dismayed, Arthur flatly said, "Come along, let's get going."

Al pursed his lips and sighed. His foot trampled upon the pavement, stepping forward to meet Arthur's steps. As they moved forward along the walkway, his concerned, soulful blue eyes rolled sideways and fixed itself into the other's more soulless and soulless one.

It didn't take so long for Arthur to notice it and he faced Al with a wrinkled brow, "What?"

"I would just want to remind you once again that you have beautiful green eyes..." Alfred sighed and smiled slightly.

The other one only let out an expression of doubt and derision with a short, sarcastic laughter.

"…it's just a shame that you would hide it all behind that temper of yours."

Arthur's breath suddenly stalled on its way. And as he dropped his sullen gaze, his curbed breath then continued into a sharp rush out of his lungs.

Both footsteps echoed throughout the seemingly unfitting silence amongst the raucous sound of the city. Not one of them could ignore the sound of their breathing, the pained hush that radiates by feelings of uncertainty and the constant neediness for affirmation. The sound of their screaming thoughts only goes louder and louder by each stretch of sidewalk that their foot trampled upon.

But by every metre left behind, farther and farther from which they came from, to the point where people were getting lesser and lesser in number… Their hands would get closer and closer until they held tenderly, softly and purely.

Arthur, I just want you to be happy. I don't want to see you again in those difficult situations like you used to.

Alfred, you don't deserve to have someone like me. I know you could only be hurt. I just want you to be as happy as you used to be.

There would always be these words that are only kept by wordless chatters, hesitant to come out and afraid for the hurt that it will bring about. Both finally arrived at the parlour not so long after a few more stretch of sidewalks. That was also then that the silence between their lips was shattered by a simple invitation.

"Alfred, you should go inside first. Wait for me there. I have to place a call to the studio just for a second, okay?" Arthur let his warmed palm fall down at his side. He smiled at his beloved one, something to tell him not to worry about anything. He then wondered how long he could keep up, doing such fake smiles in his sheer desperation to save everything that he held so dear.

Alfred nodded, letting the other's hand go physically, although the ghost of it will still haunt his hand for a while. As he had seen Arthur smile again, his spirits lifted up a bit. He then turned away, faintly smiling and grasped open the glass door of the ice cream shop. A reasonably loud chime was subsequently heard and then afterwards, an expected greeting of an employee.

Another chime went off again and reminded Arthur that he was now alone at the front of the establishment. He felt for his phone inside his pocket and he wasn't any more surprised when the clock eventually revealed to him that he would surely be late for the impending night's work. Bloody hell, he thought, it won't hurt to be late anyway…it's just for a single day. He tapped a number that was on his recent call listings and touched the call button. He then sighed and wished that the other end wouldn't be too stupid not to pick up when he had just called in some few minutes earlier.

"Oh, Arthur! Have you already missed my voice in such a short time? Haven't I called you just a few minutes ago, is it not?"

"In your bloody dreams, frog." He replied, both rolling his eyes in contempt and gripping his clammy hand even more tightly around his phone.

"So why are you calling for, my love?" The Frenchman's voice gurgled in the electronic line.

Arthur leaned his back against the wall. His cheerless, blank eyes only gazed through each passing pedestrian. In his mind, he suddenly regrets that he ever called the man back. He really doesn't exactly know what to say, not even where to start. But then, he knew that if he has to put an end to what's unsettling him, he should find the courage to speak a word.

"Nothing... I'm just tired. Maybe that's it."

"Tired of what? Having a monotonous life? Oh no, wait… I mean, monogamous."

Green eyes glared at the man who was thousands of miles away, "Hey! What are you trying to imply?"

"Isn't that what you said a while ago? Somebody's taking you for a solo drive at rue de l'amour."

"Yes, that's true! But I'm not in any way had been screwing around—"

"Like having your pole in other holes, dear?"

"Shut that filthy mouth of yours!" Arthur's eyes darted from side to side, cold sweat beading and trickling down his brow bone.

"…Just why are you so defensive? Have you actually cheated?"

"Yes."

"SERIOUSLY?"

"No, I did not. So kindly quit the persistent teasing."

"For the record, I don't believe you… So who did you shag, mon amour?"

"You. Remember that night months ago?" He let out a small laugh. Although the moment he said this, his heart had beaten so hard as hazy images from his mind revealed themselves like invisible ink under fire.

"What?! But you said nothing happened that night… I mean, seriously Arthur… did we—?"

"No, we didn't." Arthur slowly closed his eyes.

"Oui. Fine… fine, I won't mess with you."

Even though how much he covers guilt with an attempt for humour and made an effort to express every indecent memory as a painful vague joke, it still would not be less true and foul. Arthur knows that it would never be forgivable. Not even in the slightest.

Regardless of how he tried to hide something that is utterly unforgivable, he still wasn't able to put up a good lie. It wasn't that he was truthful most of his life, but he had already promised to be. And it just happened that he only became stuck in the middle— not in any way good both in telling lies and telling the truth. One always covers another, to protect some ugly, bitter truth or lie that was hidden beneath the defence of his words.

But despite everything, the truth will always be the hardest one to admit.

He sighed and continued to talk, "You know what? There might be some truth in what you said. What I mean is, if… if by any chance I'll do something like that and selfishly hurt the one I love… it would be very despicable of me, isn't it?"

A sudden silence swept up in both of them.

"Francis? Dear friend, are you… fortunately dead?" Arthur broke his own.

"No, mon ami. But it really had wounded me far. I had never thought that you love this person so much."

"How could you say that? As far as I know, I am such a terrible person."

The only response he heard then was just some hearty laughter from the other end.

"If you are such a terrible person right now, my friend… the thought of hurting someone won't even bother you, not even for a little bit. You used to be so blatantly indifferent towards other people's feelings! Oh how I am so extremely proud of you."

If he's truly such a terrible person now, he won't feel as much guilt as this. Wouldn't he?

"Idiot."

Silence prevailed again between their lines, only to be suddenly cut short by a French song that suddenly played at Francis' background. Arthur took a breath and started to speak once more.

"Hey, Francis…"

"What is it, dear?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what? For continually leaving me in the background all these years?" Francis laughed. "You're being silly. Really, it's perfectly fine—"

"No… I'm sorry for everything."

Arthur's eyes welled with hot tears that he only immediately wiped against his wrist before gravity had its chance to get hold of it.

"Now you're sounding very strange, Arthur. Really, I'm very happy for you finally finding your special person. However, if ever you get your heart broken again, I still wouldn't mind if you go all the way down here for some wild fun like we used to, mon cheri."

Arthur bid his goodbye and put his mobile phone down.

He has somehow felt lighter as a little talking finally aired out his troubles, even though his dialogue with Francis seemed as if it had been two different conversations. What the Frenchman had told him somehow provoked him into thinking. He never would have thought how things would significantly change within such a short time. How he would actually change. Looking back, would such thing as guilt could even torment him? It would only be a blunt no. In the past, all he ever did was to do anything that he wanted, get anything that he wanted and lay his hands on anyone he fancied. He had set aside the feelings of countless people without even feeling a bit of remorse. But now, he felt sullied. He felt filthy.

But how ironic it is… this thing called guilt. It had set him free as it would also cage him in troubles.

His hand gripped tightly against his camera bag.

He walked towards the parlour's entrance, preparing a shallow smile on his lips. After pushing the glass door and ignoring both the chimes and an employee's customary 'good afternoon', he searched for Alfred in the vicinity. He only stopped flicking his eyes when he finally spotted Al's waving hand at one corner near a wall of frosted glass.

Arthur immediately went towards that corner and took the seat in front of Alfred's.

"Hey." It was all that Alfred said as a greeting while he dug a spoon into his big dollop of frozen plain white dessert in a cup.

"Hey." That very word was also all that Arthur could reply to him at the moment. He pursed his lips and pushed through with his smile, at the same time, staring at the heap of ice cream getting from point cup to point mouth.

Alfred then smiled back at him, with that effortlessly charming and exuberant air that he had always have.

It hadn't been so long since Arthur first encountered that very same smile. Since then, every time he saw that smile, he couldn't help realising how much of his own happiness had been so hollow and devoid of meaning. Now, if only he could just be promised a granted wish, he will plead for that smile to never fade… no matter what would happen, no matter how bleak their future might turn out to be.

Al continued to place much innocent focus on one of his most favourite things in the world, which Arthur only fondly observes. After a few more seconds, Arthur finally found a moment in which he could break into his lover's attentions.

"Alfred, can you pass me my satchel?" He pointed across towards the other chair which contains his belongings that Al had carried for him.

Al immediately picked and passed him the satchel. Arthur reached for it, placed it on his lap and flapped it open. He dug his hand inside a compartment searching for something. Just a moment after, he got a hold of it and pulled a small red and blue gift-wrapped package, which he then handed forward.

"Happy birthday to you, Alfred."

Alfred's eyes widened and he almost forgot the taste of cold vanilla in his mouth. He took the package and excitedly tore the wrappers in the manner of a small child. When the content was exposed, he beamed again with that smile that had always made Arthur glad.

"Dude! I thought you have forgotten! Really, but thank you! Thank you so much."

"It's a surprise. How could I ever forget your birthday?" He leaned closer to Al and pleasingly smiled. "That would be quite impossible."

"I was this close into sulking y'know." Alfred lifted a hand to simulate an inch with his thumb and forefinger. "But dude, is this for real? How did you get a copy of Guns and Aliens III? What I knew is that it wouldn't be out till September!"

Arthur chuckled and replied, "Oh… one of the designers was a friend of mine."

Alfred placed his well-loved gift inside his rucksack and went on, "Why haven't you told me about that before? You really have to let me meet that pal of yours."

Arthur's smile went into a bit of hesitation but then he answered, "Yes, of course… you shall meet him soon."

"And yeah, wait." Alfred took out his gift again and suggested, "Take a photo of me, please? Just a remembrance for this day."

"…Oh, you're such a child! But alright, since it's your birthday today… you're my king." Arthur dug in his satchel compartments once again and fished out a digital camera. "Bear with this polaroid. I just bought it and guess what? You're the lucky first shot, my darling. I would love to take a shot of you in the medium-format but the only viable lens I have now is a wide-angle and I would never want you to have a huge nose on your birthday photograph."

"Arthur, c'mere." As his love paused to raise his confused eyes, he repeated, "Come here. If first shots are supposed to be lucky then I want to have it with you."

Arthur let out a little amused laugh and then stood immediately, saying, "I actually didn't mean it that way, but alright." He then waited for Al to clear the other chair before sitting and shifting his body closer to him. Flexing his arm away, he took the shot. Both of them right away checked the display afterwards.

"Aw, we're not even at the center." Alfred lightly teased. "I thought you are such a brilliant photographer? I have admired you for so long and this only caused your downfall?"

"Oh please… I photograph other people, not myself." Arthur laughed heartily, trying to delete the image. However, in his pressing through the buttons, the shot developed instead. "What the—? Damn it."

"What's that? You can't even find the delete button anymore?"

"It seems so." After a little examination, Arthur gently smacked the print down on the table and suggested, "Well, forget it. Let's just take another one."

When Arthur attempted another shot with Al, the lens only retracted the moment he pressed the capture button. Confused, he checked on it again, only finding the display in pitch black.

"Shit. Battery's dead." He tried pushing on the power button but then, there was no response. "Al… I think birthday photos will all be at home when I come back."

"Okay." Alfred then quickly placed a small, innocent kiss just at the corner of Arthur lips.

"Hey!" Arthur quietly retorted and rolled his eyes intently towards the other one. "You can't just do that whenever you want."

Arthur stood up and got back to his former seat while watching his love reach again for the once-abandoned cup of vanilla ice cream. He then felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to drop his gaze when Alfred's own closely focused on him.

"Don't be angry. I bet you'll allow me to get away with it this time. It's my birthday, y'know." He then gathered and stirred the softened ice cream with his spoon, forming a pointy centre. "And why exactly not? If you would just allow me, I will do that every single day. I am proud of you… I really am proud of our relationship and if you would allow me to shout it loud now, I would. I will never be ashamed. Arthur, is there really even something to be ashamed of?"

Is there really something to be ashamed of? Those words struck through Arthur's mind, impaling him down to his heart. He went silent after feeling a dull but painful sting, leaving him to feel each bleeding, guilt-ridden wound.

"No." That was all that he could utter. He let out that single word almost inaudibly whilst sensing an emerging subconscious fear that he didn't want to acknowledge.

Alfred raised one eyebrow at that silence but then he decided to change the topic, "Aren't you gonna order? And what took you so long outside a while ago?"

"Just caught-up with some old friend that had called… and why the hell did you not order for me?"

"I never really knew what you wanted. That's why."

Arthur was lost for words once more and when Al flicked that same intense stare back at him, he almost couldn't help the uncontrollable urge to avert his eyes. However, he still managed to hold his gaze even if it caused him to bare even more shame from his troubled, restless soul.

"Some old friend…" Al toyed around the thoroughly melted ice cream with his spoon. "Would 'ya mind telling me who that is?"

"It's not really that important, Alfred."

"I just want to know. Can't 'ya even tell a name? Come on, I don't know that person anyway."

"Sorry, no." Arthur flatted out, finally diverting his eyes away from Al's interrogating gaze.

Al hadn't immediately said something in return as he heard Arthur's blunt manner of blocking his questions. It doesn't feel right inside of him to doubt but he can't help but be suspicious of the way Arthur rolled his eyes away from him. On how he noticed Arthur's uneasiness coming out transparently, he could almost hear the other one's pulse go overdrive.

Alfred knew that he, himself wasn't the prying type but after all of those questions left unanswered ever since the beginning of their relationship, he can't in any way let another one pass again without a sensible response. Filled with that very thought as a reason, he therefore insisted and asked once more.

"Why?"

"Just please…" Arthur pulled out a weak glare. "please drop it already."

"I am sorry to say this but I think there is something that you are refusing to tell me."

Al didn't get any response from Arthur who only had his eyes hidden away from him. Arthur almost thought that he would be the one who will break at this unbearable, stifling conversation. However, he didn't expect at all that Alfred will be the one who would lose all control this time. And by every hurting, wounding second, he couldn't do anything but grip his hands tightly as he listened to sharp words that were long drowned in silent resentment.

"You returned all the way from outside, from your phone call, with eyes reddened like you have been crying. Do you think I wouldn't notice that? So, tell me honestly... is there any?"

"Alfred, please don't spoil this afternoon. We're not by ourselves at the flat, we're in public—"

"I don't fucking care! IS THERE ANY?"

"Alfred, please..."

"For god's sake, if you weren't hiding anything, you could have only said no."

At that moment, it seemed that there shall never be a doubting word left unsaid and no silent shame left concealed.

"I'm going to place a call to the studio— I bet you don't even remember telling me that, don't you? Well… studio my ass, I am not stupid! If you have problems with anything… why can't you just bring yourself to trust me with it? Am I… am I really that inadequate?"

Arthur couldn't dare to feel. He couldn't dare to speak. He couldn't dare to look at Al's maddened eyes and he could not bear for any of it to force out all the guilt from him. Alfred's heavy breathing and trembling control made him even wither more in pain and hurt that he was supposed to have been prepared of from the start. He never knew he couldn't actually keep up with a heartache that felt so real.

If only he had been more honest...

"Even though how much I tried reaching out, you still kept on distancing away from me. Yeah, I understood that you have your own space. However, this gap you had always left for me to fill on my own has just become so... hurting. Worst of all, I know that it only hurts so much because I love you and I don't think I could ever love somebody else who is not you. Isn't that selfish? Yes, I am selfish! And I hate myself for it... I hate myself for making you live this way when I see that you really don't have to."

...However, it seemed already too late for any kind of honesty.

"Arthur, I... I just don't know if you're happy with me anymore."

He could only do nothing but stare for one last time at his exuberant darling who always had those optimistic blue eyes now moisten up with irrepressible tears. Those lips of his, once so cheerful and so happy, now only have its bright smile gone and faded.

"I don't understand… what are you trying to say?"

Arthur could do nothing but put a hopeless faith that the love they have shall endure.

Alfred, I beg you, please don't do this to me.

"I'm breaking up with you."

-o0o-

…

…

A/N:

Oh, the irony.

Below is a review box/button. It doesn't take that long to drop a note. So please, my dear reader (if there's anyone out there), enlighten me. Also, if any of you got a problem/offended with a detail or content in this fanfiction (and it's subsequent chapters), please have the civility of letting me know so we could talk about it and reach a consensus, 'kay?

The digicam Arthur used here was a Polaroid Z2300. Disclaimer: I do not have any connection with any brand I mention.

Cover Photo now made by me and not stolen.

To my ever generous beta:

Tobi, dear, did I overdo it? Write me a review or a PM. You nearly killed me in this chapter. I can't dodge every one of your juicy comments because I realise that they're all true. I love you!