Hey, y'all! Please, R&R~!

*Third person POV*

Arthur Kirkland plopped on his queen sized bed, groaning into the blankets that draped over its surface. Today had been a disaster. He'd woken up late due to lack of sleep, had barely enough time to make his charge breakfast and see him board the bus, arrived late to work thus getting yelled at by his boss, called by the school, had to explain the situation to his boss, picked up his son, dealt with a broken vase, gave the boy a (quite loud) stern talking to, sent said child to bed without dinner, and cleaned his kitchen...

And now, here he was, lying on his bed, exhausted. He simply wished for his boyfriend to come back. Alfred, Arthur's charge, simply adored having Francis around. But Alfred especially loved playing with Francis's charge, Matthew - Alfred insisted they are twins.

He sighed as he sat back up to change into his night clothes. Arthur couldn't help but wonder what had gone so wrong. Alfred was a rather nice boy! Loud and bombastic, yes, but for him to get into a fight at school? For heavens sake, the boy was only five years old!

When Arthur had arrived at the school he'd found Alfred with an ice pack held to his face. The boys' lip had been busted and a bruise was forming just under his eye. When he spoke to the principle, she'd said that he had picked a fight with a boy and tackled him. They boy punched Alfred in self defense.

However...Alfred had a different version.

*First person POV- Arthurs*

"He punched me! He punched me for no reason," he'd exclaimed once they'd gotten to the car.

We both opened our door as I said, " Then explain what the principal said. You expect me to believe she's lying?"

He climbed up into his seat as he strapped himself in. " It's not fair," he pouted. "Why won't you believe me?"

I looked back at the boy. He looked back at me with his bright, blue eyes. I studied his round face, my eyes stopping to look at his bruise and lip. It was almost pitiful, really. His eyes looked at me with an expression of a kicked puppy.

I relented stating, "We'll talk about this later." The boy looked as though he were about to argue this, then looked down and out the window, dropping the topic entirely...

...Of course, then there was the mishap of the vase. I was working in my study when I heard a crash. Immediately, I was up and out the door, running to the kitchen. When I'd reached the entryway, Alfred stood with his back to the counter, looking down at the broken vase. I simply stood there, looking at the wreckage to find out which one it was. Then I realized...

...It was the vase Francis had given me...

I stormed over to where the boy was at, picked him up, and set him on the other side of the glass. Once I checked him over to see if he was hurt- which thankfully he was not- I gave him a stern look. "/what do you think you were doing?" I interrogated.

He looked down as he reached an arm around his back, grabbing the other arm from behind. "I-I dunno..." the boy said quietly.

"I am sure that is not the case. Tell me what you were doing."

Alfred cringed a bit at my tone of voice. "I-I was playing and got thirsty. I was trying to get a cup."

"Really?" I asked, suspicious. "The cup cupboard is on the other side, away from the vase."

"I got hungry...So I tried to get a cookie..." He explained. He then looked up at me with his bruised face and said, "I'm sorry, Artie..."

...Now how could I be mad at that face? I sighed and said, "Alright. Just be more careful next time. And no cookies before dinner."

He looked up and smiled at me as he exclaimed, "Kay!" And ran out of the kitchen. I then turned to the vase and began to clean...

...The worst of all was while I was making dinner. I decided to make some stew, and I'd set it on the stove to simmer. I turned to the pantry for some crackers when I heard little footsteps entering the room. I glanced behind me to see that it was Alfred. He looked at the stove and asked, "Whatcha makin?"

I returned full attention to the pantry. "What are you making, and stew." The child didn't reply as I rummaged through the cabinets... The next thing I heard was bubbling. I turned around to see Alfred on his toes, looking into the pot. The stew was boiling. "Alfred, get away from there!" I yelled. I guess I scared the boy, because he jumped a foot in the air, whipping back around at me.

As he did this, his arm hit the pot, thus knocking it off the stove. Everything splattered onto the floor. Alfred stood, clinging his arm as little tears began to form in his eyes.

I looked down at the mess, then back at him infuriated. "Alfred!"

He jumped and looked up at me. "I-I'm sorry, Artie! I-!" He stuttered out.

I lifted my hand and pointed at the entryway. I then said, rather loudly, "I don't want to hear any of it! To your room young man!"

"B-But-!"

"To your room. And no dinner for you! Go!" I shouted, frustrated.

Little tears sparkled in his eyes, threatening to fall. He still clutched his arm, leaving me unable to get a clear look at it. Then turned and ran out of the room, his little feet pounding up the stairs soon followed by a thud of a door closing.

I sighed as I ran my hand through my hair. I looked at the mess, turned around and grabbed the mop, and began cleaning up the mess.

*Third person*

All he could think about was these events. He wanted everything to be normal, not dysfunctional. With Alfred as old as he is, he needed to be there for him a lot more than he had been, or at least a parent figure.

He wished Francis could be here. Everything seemed to go smoother when Francis was around. But the man had to go back home for a family emergency a few days ago. He was on his own.

Arthur sighed. Outside, clouds gathered, but Arthur just passed it off as another cloudy night, like so many before. He wondered what Alfred was doing...

*With Alfred, still Third person POV*

Alfred sat in his room, his eyes red rimmed from crying, a blanket wrapped around his left arm. It wasn't fair, he thought. He wasn't the one who'd started the fight at school! Sure, he'd told the principal it was him, but that's only because of the scary kid telling him to do so. If he had the choice, he would've told it how it was, but he didn't want to get hurt again.

Alfred laid down on his bed and stared out the window, giving a small sniff. The night sky was cloudy like normal, but this time the moon just barely peeked through the blanket of clouds.

He pulled the covers over his small body and turned away from the windows. After twenty minutes of trying to sleep, he finally got up and shut the blinds to the window, making the room darker. He climbed back into the covers and snuggled in. He sighed in content and soon drifted off into blissful sleep...

...About three hours later, a large boom crackled throughout the sky, and a bright light illuminated the dark, cold night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Hetalia~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Most of this was done during my finals, so it's just a little thing I wrote up when I was bored. I hope y'all liked, and please leave a comment~!
*Don't know how long this story will actually be, I'm just playing it one moment at a time.