The moonlight shone through a break in white curtains that veiled Victorian styled windows. The light of the moon kissed everything it touched with a silvery glow. The room that it filtered in, at first glance, seemed almost empty. The walls of the room were painted a blue color that was normal to the English Victorian era. A bookcase that sat on the far left wall was also decorated in a Victorian style. It was made of maple wood and had a mahogany stain. The bed was made of iron that was painted white and, like everything else, had a Victorian design. The bedding, however, was blue, white and red. If it had been daytime, one would have noticed that the bedding had the Union Jack, the flag of the United Kingdom, on it.
Perched on the bed was a man with blonde hair and green eyes. With his, pale right hand, he traced the flag on his bedspread. In his left hand, he held a blue cell phone. The smile on his face was placid and he had a slightly red tinge to his face, as if he was embarrassed. He turned his pale face to the window, looking out the window. The moon was starting to set and he was able to see the sun peeking over the gray clouds that usually adorned the London sky.
Miles away, on the other side of the Atlantic, a man with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes was settling into bed. It was already night and the stars were starting to appear. The man looked around his room, taking in the details. It was very rare that he stayed in his house right outside of Philadelphia. His room was rather messy, with t-shirts, jeans, sneakers and football jerseys all over the floor. He had a gray Sony T.V. across from his bed on a wooden stand he built himself. Next to the T.V. stand was an organizer for his electronic devices that was white and had sports themed drawers. He had a white dresser against the wall, that held all of his clothes. The bed he sat on had a fence-like headboard and footboard. The boy was lounging lazily, talking to his English lover, with whom he hadn't spoken in a long while.
"Well, I should go to bed, goodnight~" Alfred said, smiling and yawning; he was rather tired and it was past his bedtime.
"But wait…" Arthur protested softly, wincing; he felt like he hadn't talked to Alfred long enough. They were on different sides of the Atlantic and Arthur felt lonely without hearing his dorky American lover's voice after some time.
Alfred frowned, keeping silent. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but he would wait. Hell, he would do anything for his Artie.
"Please don't go…" Arthur whispered softly, a tear rolling down his cheek. He suddenly felt more lonely than ever. The feeling crushed his very heart and soul.
"Is something wrong?" Alfred asked softly, holding the phone closer to his cheek, as if he was talking to Arthur directly. Sometimes, he wondered how Arthur could make it over there in rainy England all by himself, when Alfred himself couldn't go a day without thinking about his little British lover.
"I don't… wanna sleep. Please don't make me…" Arthur begged softly, tears spilling over. His thin chest was racked by sobs and at some times, he had to gasp for air, trying to fill his oxygen deprived lungs.
Alfred's eyebrows furrowed over his blue eyes. Was Arthur crying? He sat straight up, speaking softly and soothingly, "Arthur, love, please don't cry. It's okay. I'm still here."
Arthur kept shaking and crying, tears tainting his normally green eyes, "But… if you hang up… I'll be alone again… I don't want to be alone…"
Alfred sighed softly, shifiting again on his bed, "Art-"
Arthur sighed, swiping away the tears, "Don't call me that, git."
Alfred smiled weakly; at least Arthur still had the energy and courage to be himself. The dirty blonde sighed, flopping back on the pillows, "How about I sing you to sleep?"
Arthur made a face that Alfred would have laughed at, had he been in the room at the moment. "What am I, a bloody child?" the Briton asked, rolling his eyes and pouting slightly.
The American just laughed, cradling the phone between his shoulder and his ear, "Come on, please? You know you love it when I sing."
Arthur sighed, giving up, "Fine."
Alfred started to sing softly and Arthur closed his eyes, just listening. As Arthur listened, he recognized the words. The song was one that he used to sing to Alfred to get him to sleep when he was younger. The melody was comforting and familiar and Arthur was asleep in no time. Even after Arthur fell asleep and Alfred had long hung up, Alfred continued to sing the song, tucking himself into bed.
"If you be my boat, I'll be your sea. A depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity ebbing and flowing and pushed by a breeze. I live to make you free. I live to make you free. But you can set sail to the west if you want to and past the horizon till I can't even see you, far from here where the beaches are wide, just leave me your wake to remember you by…." Alfred sang softly, pulling the covers over his head.
He would make it a point to see Arthur in the near future.