Hey! I haven't written a 2P story yet, so I came up with this. Enjoy! c:

Warnings: Child Abuse, Killing, and all that shet.

Time: I don't know. But there's no cars, or electricity, women wore dresses and men suits and doctors had to come to your house? So yeah, just go read it!

This is Artie's psycho side/thoughts?

Today, my parents had company over and were too ashamed to introduce me, so they sent me outside. They really don't like me, I don't understand why. I think it's because of my eyes. They're blue and pink, instead of green like my Mums and Fathers. Many doctors tried to find out the reason seeing as no family has every had two colors in one eye before, but were left clueless. They're weird colors, everyone thinks I'm cursed. Even my parents.

So they hate me.

The maids and butlers and every other servant that works in our mansion does too. I'm not sure why, though. I'm nice, I've never once played a trick on them like the other little boys I've met. The servants don't appreciate me much. I think my parents told them it was okay for them to be mean to me. They use every excuse to beat me.

And my parents let them.

They always tell me I deserve every hit. It's because I'm a bad boy. That's what they reason anyway. But that's okay, because they're my parents. And I love them, I have to.

So at times like this when they send me out to my garden, I do so without a complaint. I'm 10 years old and so I have to be a gentleman. Or else I might get beat again.

My garden is beautiful. It has all sorts of different colored Roses, Per Ola Wibergs, Lantana Flowers, Tulips, and even Sunflowers! My most favorite flower is the Bleeding Heart though. It reminds me of my animals in the shed. You don't know about them do you? Well, I guess I can tell you my secret.

I have a lot of pets in my shed. They all little furry creatures that I find in my garden. I like to catch them. I like it when they squirm in my hands when I have them in my grasp. I like the crunch their bones make as I crush them. Then I take them to my shed where we all play together. Me and my rabbits, birds, gophers, squirrels and sometimes even rats!

But when their bodies get too smelly or start falling apart, I bury them behind my Bleeding Hearts. It's a help reminder, don't you think so? For playing with me they get to sleep in back of my favorite flowers!

Nobody knows about my playtime.

They don't really care what I do outside, as long as I stay out of sight. In fact, the gardeners have stopped coming by to tend and water the plants. Since I do most of the work anyways, they don't bother trying to help. I am the Cursed One after all. They wouldn't dare try to help me.

So today is like any other day. I was woken up by ice cold water, dragged to the bathroom where they cleaned me, and got slapped a lot for being too frail. The maids say I'm too much like a girl and that my parents are going to have trouble marrying me off. Then they laugh and joke about how stupid my parents must be if they think anyone will marry me.

I'm taken from the freezing cold water inside of the tub, where they dress me. My Mum has been buying me the cheapest clothing she could find because she wants to save money. I don't know why though, they have a big fancy company. If she really wanted to save money she should stop buying expensive dresses and suits custom made from foreign countries.

But I can't say that, I'm a gentleman.

The clothing and shoes are thrown at me, and they leave me alone to dress. It's nothing more than a white shirt, brown shorts and a light beige vest. My shoes are uncomfortable, but sometimes the butlers litter nails across the floors and such so I can step on one and hurt myself. My parents are out in the mornings on business so they don't have to worry about the master and mistress getting caught in their tricks.

So I'd rather wear my uncomfortable shoes than step on a nail barefoot.

If the butlers are in a good mood they'll drag me by clothing to the kitchen. If they're not they take me by my hair. They don't like it because of it's bright ginger color. Not a soft blonde like my parents. Once I'm thrown into the kitchen, the cooks take one look at me, maybe spit or kick me and desert the kitchen.

I have to cook my own food.

I'm a good cook though, I've only set the kitchen aflame twice! But it doesn't taste that good. It's too hard and the black stuff that's on it makes me sneeze. But I have to eat it or I might faint. That's what chiefs told me. I'm good at making pastries and sweets though! I also know how to use a knife really well, thanks to the daily playtime I have with my pets.

After breakfast, I went down to the library and read a few fairytales. I love fairytales, especially the ones with the princesses and the princes. Sometimes, I like to pretend that I'm a princess locked away in a castle. I'm really sad and lonely because I can't escape, but then! My prince comes and rescues me. We both fall in love and we live happily ever after with our children.

I'm still waiting for my prince.

You can't tell anyone about my dream though, okay? Because they'd probably hit me for that too. I'm not suppose to like boys, I have to like girls. That's why Father married Mum. But why? I don't want to marry a girl, because they can't do anything. They can't protect you, or comfort you when you need it. No, they're selfish and only want attention.

Why would I want that?

I was thinking about that, when my Mum burst through the door, panting and slouching in a very unladylike position. Her emerald eyes searched frantically around the room until they landed on me. She charged forward, her heels loudly clicking on the floor, when she sunk her nails into my arm, and yanked me out of the room.

She dragged me all the way to the back door, where she threw me out and into the dirt. Not a word did she say, we have done this routine so many times. I like her more than my father though, because she makes an attempt to hide her hatred for me. Usually after the guests have gone, and I am able to enter the house again, she'll tell me she had to hide me away because I'm special.

And that's where I am now. I'm tending to my Bleeding Heart, there seems that one is not blooming. I always pay the most attention to this one because it reminds me of me. Not as beautiful, but still forced to live in a life of misery. I don't even bother about my tears, they'll dry up soon.

I go around back to the shed and put my gardening tools away, seeing as I just finished plucking out the weeds. It's a normal day, just like any other. My tears have dried up, so I'm not worried about the servants whipping me because I dirtied my face. I hear a chirping sound and turn around, still in the shadows of the big shed.

A bird has landed on my red Rose.

I grin widely as I reach for my net, not taking my eyes off the small green little Hummingbird. I've caught one before, it's quite difficult but not impossible.

I must catch it before it flies away.

I'm still hidden out of view in the shadows, planning when to make my move when something catches my eye. Forgetting the tiny bird completely, I stare in shock as I see something creeping along my garden. It's trying to hide in the bushes but I can still spot it. I know my garden by heart.

A person?

A boy, around my age, with dark brown hair that has a strange cowlick and red eyes. He looks to be a little taller than me, he's not wearing his shirt so I can see some bruises, and he's smirking. A white shirt's in his hand, which I am guessing belongs to him, and slowly he gets closer to the little bird.

"Com'ere, birdy.'' He coos, menacingly.

His voice is husky, but still young. It's an amazing sound. I've only ever heard adult voices, and I grow tired of my voice easily, so his is like music. Amazing to hear.

He accidently steps on a fallen leaf, and a loud crunch is heard throughout the otherwise silent garden. His grin, which I notice has some teeth missing, is quickly replaced by a scowl and his red eyes seem to intensify with his anger.

The bird is going to escape.

I tighten my small pale hands around the neck of my net. It always upsets me when I let my playmates escape, and out of habit, I feel my own crazed grin fall. Then suddenly just as the bird -alerted by the crunch of the leaf- is about to take off, a maniac yell breaks the silence completely, and a white garment falls onto the bird, successfully capturing it.

Too late, birdy.

My grin finds it way onto my face once again, as the wild boy grabs the bird from the shirt, smirking triumphantly. He raises his fist with the bird still in his clutch, and throws it onto the ground. The force behind the throw was enough to crack a few bones, as the bird cannot flee in time as a foot smashes it.

Again and again and again the foot comes down and stomps the life out of the tiny bird. The bird is nothing more than a small pile of battered mush and squished insides. I accidently giggle, and quickly cover my mouth with my hand, but it's too late.

The boy looks up, a dark brow raised in confusion, his smirk gone. He grabs his discarded shirt from the dirt and puts it on, another smudge quite visible from the white clothing. He slowly stalks forward in my direction, hands raised up and fisted, glaring. I squeeze into the corner frozen.

I can't hide in the shed, because then he'd find out my secret! And in my panic, I forgot that I could have easily ran away. Finally, he turned the corner and his red eyes connected with my own pink and blue ones. He stares in surprise at me for a while, until I smile and shyly wave at him, successfully snapping him out of his trance.

"Wha?...Who're you?"

He's scowling again, but his eyes are kind. I point at my big mansion way in front, still grinning at him. My face feels warm for some reason.

"I live in there."

He turns back and gives a low whistle. When he turns back to me, looking me up and down, and he asks in a disbelieving tone,

"Really? Doesn't look like it. What's your name?"

I'm not really surprised the he doesn't believe me. I'm more shocked at the second question. My name? What is my name? It's been so long since anyone's asked me, let alone called me by first name. I stand there in silence a bit more, my lips in a small smile.

"...My...name?"

"Yeah, you deaf or somethin? What do they call ya?"

They call me the Cursed One.

"My name is Arthur Kirkland. But you can call me Artie for short!"

A large grin is back on my face. I can start new. He doesn't know who I am, and doesn't seem the least bit bothered with my eyes. He'll be my new friend. But he won't go in the shed, he's special.

"Ah...No thanks. I'll just call ya Arthur."

"Oh but I insist! Call me Artie! What's your name?"

"Alfred. Alfred F. Jones."

A proud smirk stretches across his face as he leans against the wood of the shed, one hand on his hip.

"Alfie!"

"No."

"Aww, why not?"

"That's a stupid name."

"I like it!"

"Then ya must be stupid."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

And it went on like that. Soon we got in a tussle and we were rolling on the dirt, not really fighting. Just trying to get on top of each other, as if that would claim the winner. With my smaller body, I was able to sit on his back with my hands around his neck as though he was giving me a piggy-back ride. Only he was laying with his face in the dirt. I giggled and closed my eyes in triumph.

"Tee-hee!~ I win Alfie!"

I heard him growl, when suddenly he started thrashing wildly. Rolling onto his side, I went down with him and slammed into the floor on my back. My eyes still closed, I let out a hiss when I felt a sharp rock dig into my skin. Instead of feeling the scorching sun on my face, I snap open my mixed orbs to stare at Alfie.

Both his hands held down mine, he was in between my legs using his upper body to pin me down, so I couldn't kick him either. I was stuck, and even though I struggled fiercely, his much bigger body held the advantage. Admitting defeat, I went limp in his grip. I pouted up at him when he smirked crookedly back.

"Who won now?"

Suddenly struck with an idea, I batted my eyelashes innocently at him. I liked Alfie. I liked him alot. I can't remember the last time I've ever had so much fun. In fact, I never have. I remember something I read from one of my Mum's books. I read that when people have strong feelings toward others, they tell them through what's called a kiss. The picture showed a man and a women with their lips pressed against each others and their eyes closed.

Kisses signify love.

Straining my neck, I shyly pressed my lips onto Alfie's and closed my eyes. It didn't go quite well because we bumped noses. Once our lips made contact he jumped away landing on his arse and staring at me, startled.

I felt my cheeks light up with heat, and I quickly hid in the shadows. My knees tucked in and my eyes covered with my dirty hands. How embarrassing! I messed the kiss thing up and now Alfie must hate me because I like boys!

Suddenly my hands were ripped apart from their places, and I saw a mad Alfie. I bit my lip to keep my sob in when I met his glare. His calloused hands shot out and for a minute I thought he was going to hit me. I've seen it so many times, but when those small rough hands of him clutched my head tightly, a pair of chapped lips smashed into mine, I found myself clueless.

Alfie narrowly missed bumping his nose into mine, but the same couldn't be said of our teeth. His tongue slipped inside my mouth and tangled itself with mine. It was weird, his tongue felt slimy against mine and over all just gross. But I couldn't care less, he was kissing me back! Finally he pulled back, his cheeks were pink and he was panting harshly.

We looked at each other, both out of breath, and excited by something so new. It was amazing that this happened in one day, nonetheless with a boy I know next to nothing about. A small part of me warned me that I shouldn't be doing this with a stranger, but I paid no heed.

"...My...first...kiss..." I panted out, smiling with my eyes closed. Basking in the moment of how good the sun felt.

Alfie blushed and started wiping his mouth furiously, but his eyes were bright. He seemed to be just as happy as I was, just wanting to be a jerk and act mean.

"Ah...geez! You some kinda...girl...or somethin?"

Sat there on his bum, scowling at me though it didn't affect me. I thought it looked quite cute, in fact. I looked him over again, taking note of his ripped shorts, worn shoes, dirty shirt, and ragged hair. Terrible, no word could describe how bad off he looked. Peering down at myself, I found I was in no position to judge.

I was about to reply to jokingly telling him that I could be a girl for him, when I heard something unfamiliar. Footsteps? I froze, my oddly colored eyes widening in horror. I abruptly stood, careful to hide behind the Rose bushes near by. I peered around the beautiful plants that I had worked so hard to care for, to gape in panic.

There across the garden. A servant. A butler nonetheless. Francis was his name, he had to be the worst of them all. He beat for countless reasons, his favorite because I believed in happy endings and love, where as he strongly disagreed, going as far as to whip me to force me to agree to his beliefs.

Seemed he came to fetch me, there was no other possible reason seeing as he hated going outside. Father and Mum must have finally finished their business matters. He was making his way in my direction though he probably had no clue as to my location. I turned back to Alfie, who looked thoroughly confused.

"Wha-umph!"

The second he opened his mouth I was on him, a hand pressed tightly against his mouth while with my other I held a finger to my lips, signaling for his to be quiet. I strained my ears to listen.

Silence.

Then footsteps. Rapid, long strides heading straight for Alfie and I. It was a short distance, and I saw Francis' tailcoat as he was about to turn the corner. Thinking fast, I pushed Alfie into the shadows of my shed and quickly stood up.

Can't let Alfie get caught.

Francis would kill him, assuming he didn't kill me first. The purple-eyed man hated children with a passion, he hated anything that made my happy as well. Granted, I've only just met Alfie but he means so much to me now, I could never let him be injured. And Francis was a threat to that, I would have to make a sacrifice.

He emerged in front of me, tall and lanky. The frown ever present seem to deepen when he settled his gaze on me. One look at my apparel and he was scowling. Two steps and he was close. Too close to my person. I was tense, I saw his hands twitch. I tore my gaze from his gloved hand to stare up at his face. Big mistake.

SLAP

There was a loud smack, my head was turned to the side, and I was falling. On my back, I hit the dirt floor, my head painfully pounding from the impact. There was a warm liquid in my mouth that reminded me of metal, and I felt drip it down my nose. Francis scoffed as his looked at his bloody glove in disgust. He turned around for a moment to take of both gloves.

I took that opportunity to risk a peek at Alfie. He was in the same position I had thrown him in. He looked positively peeved until our eyes connected. The annoyance in his eye hardened into...hate? His dark brows formed a V shape on his handsome face and he opened his mouth. No doubt to shout.

I lifted a shaking pale hand to my lips, signaling him to keep quiet with a grin. Though I doubt a row full a bloody teeth, and a nose gushing out blood would put him at ease.

Francis turned around to face me once again just as I sat up, still a bit woozy from the fall.

"You disgusting piece of shit. Look at your clothing! What the hell were you doing."

"I was-"

"Do NOT back talk me!"

And suddenly he was bent over me, his fists clenched, screaming and hollering in French. I actually tried to protect myself, I didn't want Alfie to think of me as completely helpless. But as soon as a fist collided with my stomach, and sent me gasping for breath, my arms went slack on their own. My body didn't move even though I begged it to.

I just lay there like a doll, crying and taking every hit. So many times I've endured this, yet I haven't gotten used to it. I cracked my eyes open just in time to see a brown blur barrel into Francis and knock in down.

"Alfie!"

"What the- Another insolent brat! This one I CAN kill!"

I watched as Alfie was thrown into the countless flowers I planted. Thorns and vines scratching him, tearing at his skin. He landed with an oof! Francis, momentarily forgetting me, went after him. Alfie was coughing and hacking on the floor, when Francis' foot collided with his stomach.
Again, and again, and again. Kick after kick, after kick.

And me?

I was sitting there. Shocked that someone had actually helped me. ME. And now he was getting hurt in my place. Alfie. Alfie was getting hurt. MY Alfie! My eyes flicked to the shed, something caught my eye. An old mattock was leaning innocently on it's side, rusting as the days went by.

Perfect.

Taking ahold of it with shaking, blood covered hands, I dragged it towards Francis. In a flash I was in front of him, but he was to busying punching the life out of my poor Alfie. Raising it as high as I could, I slammed it into the butler's face.

"You insolent brat! You know nothing, you ignorant little-AGHH!"

A pained scream ripped from his throat as he recoiled, his cheek bloody and broken from the hit. I was standing in between him and Alfie, legs spread out, and back hunched, grasping the now bloody pick in my small hands.

I did it.

I hit him.

Now I have to do it again.

Francis was recovering from the blow, sitting up spitting curses like a deranged animal. His cheek bulged out, purplish and ugly. Just like his eyes. He had his hand firmly covering the wound, glaring heatedly at me.

"I'm going to kill your little friend, and I'm going to make you watch every second of it."

That threat was all it took.

Suddenly the mattock wasn't so heavy, and Francis was just another one of my playmates. And like all my playmates, I need to open him up.

I charged at him, a grin splitting my face. Raisng the mattock, I embedded it on the same cheek I had hit before. Only this time, the pick went through the Frenchman's hand to land the hit. He flew back again, howling in pain. I quickly hovered over him, raising my weapon over my head. He turned up to meet my gaze then, an emotion passing through his cold purple eyes.

Was it fear or disgust?

I didn't care much though, and brought the heavy tool down on his head. It sunk in, until I ripped it away. Lifting it up again, I brought it down. Again and again and again. Until Francis didn't look like Francis anymore.

It felt good. No, it felt amazing. I had done it. I had hurt him. Hurt him like he hurt me constantly. Only I survived the toture and he didn't. But gentlemen weren't suppose to do this kind of thing. They weren't suppose to be splattered with blood and chunks of skin. They weren't suppose to be killing their servants. They weren't suppose to enjoy it either.

But when Alfie recovered from the shock of what had just transpired, he went up to me and clapped me on my back. When I turned to him, he only smirked and gave me a thumbs up.

That was when I knew that Alfie was my prince.

"Come on, we gotta get 'em out 'a here before someone sees."

Together, we half carried- half dragged Francis' body down to a river that was close by, and tossed him in. After that, Alfie used his shirt to wipe the mattock of any blood or left overs from Francis, while I smeared dirt on clothing where the bloodstains had reached.

After that, I headed home with Alfie in tow. When I presented him to my parents, they nearly screamed in horror. I panicked immediately, knowing that if they tried to harm Alfie I would have to intefere even though they were my parents. But my Alfie was smart and explained that he could see curses, demons, harmful spirits, and that's why his eyes were red.

He said that he a magic spell on him that caused all that superstitious junk he had mentioned before, to lessen the chances of it doing harm to them. My parents bought right into it, since they believed strongly in the occult.

They had the wounds inflicted upon by Francis tended and gave him a fresh set of clothes. My parents announced to the staff that he would be staying and that he should be treated with the utmost respect or there would be deadly consequences.

When they offered him a room, he rejected it.

"I'm going to be staying with Arthur." He said.

My Father sputtered and turned a dark shade of pink at being ordered around by a child, but my Mother calmed him down. Turning to Alfred, she tried to explain why my room was at the end of the hall, with locks and chains on the outside of it.

"You see, Arthur here is very...erm...special, yes that's it! And well we need to keep him separated from everyone else to make sure he doesn't affect everyone with his curse."

She said the last part quietly, but I heard it well enough. It's not as if it were a big secret.

"I'm going to be staying with Arthur to keep the curse from manifesting itself and wreaking havoc on your lives." He replied smartly, and without another word walked away, with me in tow.

"I love you Alfie."

"Pssh, it's not like I wanted to be with you. I just don't want to get raped, what with THESE looks," he motioned to himself, "being in your room means everyone will be too much of a pussy to even try to get at me if you're around."

I grinned at him, weaving my small hand in his.

"Don't worry Alfie, nobody's gonna hurt you. You are MY Alfie after all~"

"Whatever."

I'm still a princess stuck in a tower.

But at least, my prince is stuck with me.

There you go! See? Not that bad right? :D

Anyways you know the drill: Review, Favorite, Follow :)

Also I'm thinking about making another chapter, like an epilogue, of when Alfred and Arthur are older, it'll include smut but I don't know. I still got stories to update :P

Picture is how Arthur looks in the story, only that one is older and is a queen instead of a princess. ;3 Art by Nalia! You can find her blog on

ask - 2pwanted . tumblr .com ((Just remove the spaces!))

-Empress