The pain was unimaginable, unbearable, yet Arthur was calm. He didn't know how or why he wasn't crying and panicking. There was a hole in his stomach, he was in a dark alleyway all alone in the cold of the night, and he was bleeding fast. Blood was bleeding through the jacket he wore that day, giving his hand that odd wet feeling and dyeing it an orange-red colour. But he was calm, simply laying on his side and staring off into space. He couldn't remember what he'd gone out for, but he knew he wouldn't make it back. Saddening that he wouldn't be able to see Alfred's smile or hear his voice after today.
Arthur's phone vibrated in his pocket, though he didn't know which one it was. He was disoriented enough to where he couldn't find his phone. Which was in his back pocket. He managed to slip the phone out and answer it just before the last ring. He didn't even check the caller ID.
"Arthur?" Arthur hummed in relief to the sound of his lover's voice. Arthur knew that Alfred had heard him humming by the irritated tone in his voice as he continued speaking. "Arthur, I know you answered. At least say hello." A content hum. Arthur could feel his energy slipping. He felt like time was speeding up. Too fast for him. As if for every word Alfred spoke, ten minutes would pass. So, is this what death felt like? Arthur didn't know. Did it matter at this point? Maybe. Maybe Arthur did care to know. He'd always wondered these things. Though, not once did he think he'd get an answer this soon.
"…Thur!" Arthur snapped back to reality. Apparently, Alfred took his gasp of surprise as a reason to keep talking. Arthur quietly laughed to himself, imagining the pouty expression the other male was wearing. Oh, he wanted to see that face again. "You're being really weird, yanno. If you're sick, then you don't have to come over." The concern in Alfred's voice was evident, but Arthur could only feel his heart cracking, breaking. No, this isn't what he wanted. He wasn't ready to accept this. Arthur could feel his tears slowly running as he attempted to remain calm. He had to do it for Alfred. "…Arthur, please say something if you're here. I'm getting worried."
Arthur knew his time was running out. He needed to say something to Alfred. One last thing. What to say? What to say? He didn't know. His mind was cloudy. And he didn't expect what slipped out.
"Alfred. I love you." It was just his body doing things on its own, he assumed. But it was perfect. There was a sound of confusion on the other line and then Alfred laughed, which made Arthur smile despite his tears, guilt, regret, and so many other emotions settling in. "Why are you saying that all of a sudden, Arthur? Is something the matter?" Oh, he didn't know. Arthur was content with that.
Arthur's voice was weak and he knew Alfred could tell. But maybe he just seemed sick. Maybe. Maybe. "I just…wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know that I…that I love you." He reminded himself to keep his breathing steady, his choking down. "And I'm really sorry that I didn't tell you enough times." His emotions were flooding. The thought hurt. The relationship was still young. He felt like he could have had so many times to tell Alfred he loved him. So, why? Why now? Why did he have to die now?
"And I'm sorry for fighting when we did." His voice was cracking now. Ugh, he hoped Alfred couldn't tell. "I'm sorry for being so moody sometimes and I'm sorry for all the mistakes I've made. If I could go back in time, I-I would." He just wanted to have a casual conversation, remind Alfred that he loved him. But it seemed this is what he really wanted to say before saying goodbye. "So, I just wanted to let you know that I-I love you. For the time we've been together, from the time we met and bonded and-and through everything we've dealt with. I've loved you, do love you, and always will." Always will he says. If only, if only.
"Arthur, you're really scaring me. Is something wrong? Where are you?" Alfred sounded paranoid, but Arthur didn't regret a thing. What needed to be said was said. Arthur only hummed, his body feeling weak and the calm of before returning. He was crying, yes, but he was content. He had gotten exactly what he wanted. He had heard Alfred's voice and told him everything he wanted to say. Or the gist of it. And with that, he was content. He could pass on. The panic in Alfred's voice wasn't pleasant, but Arthur was still content. It was okay.
Is this what death felt like? Peace? Contentment? Acceptance?
Arthur finally got his answer on a cold night, in an alleyway.