Ahaha, yay! My first APH fanfiction! :D I hope you like it! Please ignore any French mistakes, or let me know so I can change them. (*is a French Second Language Student* :D) Also, I don't really know what characters I should put this under, so, if you have any better ideas, please let me know!
The Best Day © Taylor Swift
APH © Hidekaz Himaruya
The carefree days of a child are longed for by all. However, Alfred F. Jones was unaware of this as he jumped into a pile of leaves, red, orange, and crunchy; perfect for playing in. The five year old giggled and rolled around in his fall coat that was a few sizes too large. His father, Arthur Kirkland, claimed he would grow into it.
In the distance, an old clock tower chimed seven, and the blonde child watched as many parents grabbed their children off the tractor giving rides, and pumpkins in the pumpkin patch. Car engines started, and children began crying; who would want to leave this autumn wonderland?
A cool breeze and the ever darkening gold sky changed Alfred's mind rather quickly. A shiver ran down his spine, and suddenly, crunchy red and orange leaves weren't as appealing as they were moments ago.
"Alfred! C'mon love, we've got to go now!"
The child beamed, jumping up and running towards the accented voice. As he ran, the pumpkin patch, the tractor ride and the leaves all became a blur. The cold wind no longer reached his skin.
Arthur laughed, arms open, waiting for the child. Alfred ran, full force, into his father's legs, hugging them. Arthur was unable to regain his balance, and the two fell to the ground, laughing, and out of breath. Many parents watched, jealous that their children wouldn't listen to them like that.
"Ready to go, love?"
Alfred nodded as Arthur got up and dusted himself off. The blonde held his hand down to his son, and they walked to the car.
Making sure Alfred was properly buckled into his seat, Arthur started the car, and drove out of the dirt parking lot, onto the smooth pavement.
"Did you have fun, Alfred?"
The child nodded his head, staring out the window at the blur of autumn colours. Arthur pondered on why his normally talkative son was being anything but.
"Alfred…?"
"Daddy, why do they trees change in the fall?"
The blonde looked at his son in the rearview mirror, dumbfounded at his question.
"Daddy?"
"Well… well, they just do. That's just what happens. The leaves get old, and fall off in the fall, and new ones grow back in the springtime."
Alfred looked at his father, admiration shining in his blue eyes. He had the coolest dad; smart AND he's not scared of ANYTHING.
'I wonder if he knows where Snow White lives. I wanna meet ALL the dwarves!'
The car pulled into the rather large driveway.
"Alfred, we're…"
Arthur turned around, coming face to face with a slumbering kindergartener. A small smile crossed the green-eyed mans features as he got out of the car, opened the door, and picked up the sleeping child. Alfred, too, smiled in his sleep, and snuggled closer to the new found warmth.
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Thirteen year old Matthew Williams got of the ugly yellow bus, a single tear making its way down his face. It had been the worst day.
He continued up the driveway, and towards the front door. As he reached for the door handle, he heard the buss pull away. Shy Matthew suddenly had the urge to turn around and flip his middle finger at it. Sighing, he bit back the urge and quietly opened and closed the door, not wanting to talk to anyone.
He placed his backpack on the rug, and removed his shoes, a few more tears slipping out of his eyes.
"Mathieu? Is that you?"
'No.'
"It's just us tonight, so what do you wa-"
Matthew heard footsteps from the kitchen as the voice became louder, but suddenly, both stopped the moment Francis saw his son; covered in various substances ranging from gun, to soap, to sand.
"Mathieu? What happened?
The violet-eyed teen hung his head in shame, more tears hitting the hardwood. Francis hurried towards the boy, pulling him into a tight hug. All the tears Matthew was holding back cascaded down his face, soaking his father's favorite shirt.
"Shh, c'est correct, c'est correct."
The small blonde pulled his face off of his father's chest,
"J'ai désole, papa."
"Do not be sorry, mon petit. It is not your fault one bit. But per'aps you should go shower, then we will talk, d'accord?"
Matthew, weak in the knees, nodded and trudged up the stairs, avoiding every mirror he could. Seeing his pitiful face would make the situation even worse.
As the young blonde was getting into the shower, as his father advised, the older blonde made his way to his own room, worry present in his eyes. He removed his shirt, replacing it with a new one.
Suddenly Francis came up with a brilliant idea to make his petit Mathieu forget all about his day. He grabbed the keys to his car, and rushed out of the room.
Matthew threw the used towel in the clothes hamper as he placed his glasses back on his face, and descended down the stairs.
"Papa?"
The boy glanced around the main floor, finally coming across a note in his father's perfect handwriting:
Meet me in the car.
Matthew, confused, grabbed a clean sweater and pulled his sneakers on. He walked outside, locked the door, and made his way to his father's car, parked, running, on the street.
The violet-eyed boy sat down in the passenger's seat, and barely had time to put his seatbelt on before Francis gunned it down the street.
"Papa? W-where are we going?"
"Hmm, I don't really know yet,"
He smiled at Matthew, who seemed to have great difficulty reciprocating the action. Francis' smile wavered a bit at this, and he reached up to ruffle Matthews' still wet hair.
"Mathieu, what happened?"
The mentioned boy took a deep breath and let it out.
"They told me it was my initiation into Middle School. I didn't want to do it, but they held me down in the sand and threw water balloons full of soap at me, and stuck their gum on my face. The bus driver almost didn't let me on… Everybody laughed at me."
The blue-eyed blonde stared straight forward, out the windshield. Children nowadays weren't just mean, they were horrific.
"Papa?"
"J'ai désole, mais, je n'ai comprend."
"Me neither, "
Matthew confessed, tears forming once again. Francis noticed this,
"We will not speak of this again, d'accord?"
"You won't tell Alfred, will you?
Embarrassment swam in violet orbs.
"No, not if you do not want me to."
The young boy smiled.
"Merci papa, je t'aime."
"Je t'amie aussi, Mathieu."
About an hour later, Francis parked the car on a road of a small town. Both males got out and proceeded to talk and window shop until Matthew had forgotten the whole ordeal.
At about eight, the two returned to the car, and drove back to their home, laughing and singing along to the radio. Matthew looked over to his father and smiled. It had been the best day.
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Matthew looked up into his father's sky blue eyes, knowing that it was his strength that was making him stronger than he was.
Alfred glanced over to his brother. Matt was better than her was, though he would never admit it. Better in school, better at hockey; God likes him better, they blue-eyed boy swears.
The boys grew up in a large, gorgeous house, where they had lots of room to play, inside and outside.
"Hey Mattie! Look at what I found! Let's watch it!"
Alfred waved the VHS in his brothers face.
"W-what is it Alfred?"
"Dunno. It's labeled "Matt and Al :3". Now, how do ya work this fucking thing?
The blue-eyed teen was attempting to put the tape into the VCR backwards.
"Here Al, let me do it."
Matthew assisted his brother, then the two sat down to watch the VHS.
A small Matthew was standing in front of a bright blue, plastic easel, in what they recognized as their own kitchen. The child was wearing a bright pink princess dress, and a tiara.
"Matthew, what are you painting darling?"
"U-us."
Suddenly, a small Alfred snatched the painting off the easel, and showed it to the camera.
"See! Dats me, dats Mattie, dats dad, and dats you daddy!"
A younger Francis appeared in the background as little Alfred continued rambling on about anything and everything. Francis lifted Matthew up and placed him on his own lap. Little Matthew giggled in the background and hugged his father.
"Look, look daddy! I'm a pirate!"
The toddler exclaimed, pulling a small eye patch out of virtually nowhere, and placing it over his left eye.
"But Al, I thought you were Zuperman."
"I am dad! And a pirate! And Mattie's my princess!"
"But I'm not a girl Al! I can't be a princess!"
"Oh, but if you were mon petit, you would be ze prettiest lady in ze 'ole wide world!"
Francis told the toddler, throwing him in the air, and catching him again. Little Matthew giggled up a storm.
"My turn, my turn!"
"Alright, come 'ere Alfred."
The blue-eyed toddler hurried over to his dad, as Matthew looked at Arthur.
"Say hi to the camera, Mattie."
The toddler blushed a light pink, and rushed over to Arthur, burying his head in his shirt. Alfred was laughing in the background, shouting, "Again, again!", causing Francis to laugh as well.
The camera was still on Matthew, who toddled up to Alfred, and pulled him into a hug.
A barely audible "Awww," was heard in a British accent, as the Frenchman pulled his two sons into a hug. It seemed like the perfect ending to a movie, until,
"Francis, why are you not wearing pants?"
"Oh ho ho, mon chere, I was wondering when you were going to notice."
The two toddlers were giggling together as Arthur began to argue with Francis about his pant-less state. Eventually, after being egged on to do so, Arthur got up and began to chase Francis around the house. Little Alfred picked up the overturned camera and put it on Matthew.
"Smile Mattie! You're gonna be on TV! Then you won't be a loser!"
"Shut up Al."
The TV screen went black, as the VCR spat the tape back out.
The two boys looked at each other, and pondered why their parents would keep that tape.
"Y'know, that kinda reminds me of that time we went of that family picnic."
"Oh yeah. I remember that. God, how old were we, six?"
"I think so, haha! And I kept asking why the leaves changed in the fall."
"And you kept asking daddy why papa was always on my side, even when we both knew you were right."
"Holy shit, yeah. That was right after our first hockey game, wasn't it Matt?"
"Fuck, yeah it was! I got MVP, but they had to give you one too, because you wouldn't stop crying. And then they gave everyone on the team one."
"Haha! Oh shit, I remember that! Man, that was a fuckin' good day."
Matthew too, laughed.
"I'm so proud of you mon petit Mathieu. You will always be my one and only MVP."
"The best."
I hope you liked it. :D I should be getting some more APH up here, it's my new found love. ;)
NOTE: In Alfred's part at the beginning, he goes from thinking about how cool his dad is, to how smart he is, to if he knows where Snow White lives. It may seem a little ADD, but I see him as a child who can't keep his thoughts in order, and will say anything that's on his mind.