Rating: M for England's potty mouth and France being France.
No, this is not your typical 'Arthur baws about Alfred leaving him and Alfred confronts Arthur about it and somehow ends up having hot lemon with him. Nope, not at all. …Okay maybe it does but… this goes beyond that. I meant to write this earlier but due to my current restriction on my laptop I'm forced to use other means.
Pairings will range from chapter to chapter, but the most significant ones will be USCan, FrUk and (most likely one sided)USUK. Oh, and FACE of course, even though that's not… actually… *trails off mumbling* Ahem…
Just so I don't confuse you all, the chapters will alternate from America to France, but will always feature our lovable bushy browed British gentleman.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy it.
Woes of July
Chapter 1
Happy Canada Day!
July 1, the day which some know as Canada Day. The day that marked the beginnings of his annual torture. Arthur Kirkland, the once renowned Devil of the Seven Seas, reduced to a crying shut-in who refused to see anyone during the first week of July. This month was always a sad one for him, as it just so happened to be the month when most of his colonies had left him (as well as the birthday of a certain Frenchman, but that was just icing on the cake). Whether it was pure coincidence or not, it didn't matter to him. He was alone once again.
Left to his misery.
That didn't stop him from acknowledging the fact that Matthew had his birthday today. He boots up his computer and goes straight to his handiwork. Thanks to his embroidering habits he was able to pick up on designing a tag of sorts for the young nation. He smiled to himself and sent it to him.
Hello Matthew. I thought I'd make this for you on your birthday. Those crazy people on the 'net these days… ah well, at least they make decent pictures of us, even though it portrays all of us in rather… awkward situations-
Bah… that sounded stupid.
Hi Matthew. Here's a little present from dear old Arthur. Hope you enjoy it.
Simple and sweet was more like it. Satisfied with this, he sent it to his e-mail address and shut down his computer.
He could already feel the tears well up. M-maybe a cup of tea would distract him from it…
…Must find something to distract myself before I…
He felt the initial tears slide down and leave a trail for more to follow. He squinted his eyes and shook his head, willing the tears to go away. Not yet… not yet…
"…Arthur?"
His heart gave a jolt as he stopped in his tracks. N-no… that voice…
…Not him…
"Hey Iggy, are you okay?"
Silence.
"Iggy…?" Tentative footsteps towards him. All he wished was that this was just another of his ridiculous dreams and he'll probably go to sleep… yeah… something like that… go to sleep…
"Iggy, are you okay?" he repeated. He had just noticed that his legs had given way, his head bowed low as he leaned against the wall. Don't look up… don't look at those blue eyes…
"Mattie and Michael were worried about you, and I thought I'd just check up on you…"
Stop being so caring…
"…And your front door was open so…"
Stop making it hurt…
"…and I heard you crying so…"
Stop…
He looked up, furious tears splashing down his face.
"Does it look like I'm bloody alright to you git? W-why don't you go and celebrate your bloody birthdays like the rest of you lot?" he yelled. He wasn't aware how America seemed to shrink as he rose, fury that sparked from his depression.
"…My birthday's not for three more days Iggy. I just… thought I'd come here and check up on yo-"
"So what, you could rub it in my face how you broke your bloody ties with me? Well you know what you bloody wanker, just get it over with and leave me to my God damn business!"
"Arthur!" England blinked at his former charge using his human name. He was quite aware of how he came to find him in this state. His first reaction was to turn and run up to his room and stay there until the week passed him by. Much to his dismay, his wrist was grabbed and his body was forced to turn, meeting the open arms of the huge American.
"L-let me go…!" he protested, trying to squirm from America's rather strong hold. Curse him and his big physique…
"No. If you want to cry Iggy… I'm here for you…" he cooed. His heart felt heavy and he felt his eyes awash with a fresh wave of tears.
"Gi-git… I'm not crying…" he muttered. He struggled in America's hold but it refused to let him go. He could breathe in the American's scent: urban and sunny. That prairie smell lingered after so many years…
"Yeah you are, and you know you can tell me what's bothering you, you know?" he said. At this Arthur snapped out of his trance and glared at him.
"You want to know what's fucking bothering me? Do you have ANY idea how much you all hurt me when you all bloody upped and left me behind? You wonder why I'm like this every fucking year… well here's a bloody news flash, and I really hope this goes through your thick skull: I'm fucking depressed because this so happens to be the month when you all left me!"
There… he had said it. The weight on his chest felt considerably lighter. He didn't even notice that America had let him go during that outburst. He stood there, glaring at him. How dare he even…
I'm here my ass. You left me two centuries ago.
"A-Arthur… I-…" Alfred started. He closed his mouth and cleared his throat, obviously trying to sort out his words. He looked at Arthur with such an expression that it nearly made the vicious flames of Arthur's fury subside. Nearly.
"I-I had no idea that you-you felt this way… I seriously didn't mean to hurt you like this… I'm sorry… M-Mattie and Michael were both worried about you… so-so I thought I'd pay you a visit… and… do something for you or something like that…"
"You can start by leaving my bloody house and not bother me," said Arthur coldly. He didn't care that America was biting his lip, an obvious attempt to not cry. He could already see those two sapphires behind Alfred's spectacles glisten with tears…
…He was crying? Why?
"…No Arthur… I c-can tell you need someone with you right now… lo-look, I'm sorry… I di-didn't realize it would affect you this much…"
"Of course it would you bloody idiot! It affected me this much because I love you!" he blurted out. His eyes widened as he clapped a hand to his mouth, as if trying to unsay what he just said. He could feel the blush creeping into his cheeks. Alfred's eyes widened too.
"Y-you what…?" started Alfred. Mentally, Arthur had smacked his head against a table repeatedly, chanting 'Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!'
Why'd you go blurt that out you bloody idiot? thought Arthur. Gah… no way he could make that into something else… like he wanted to.
"…I love you," repeated Arthur. He look away from his former charge, partly to hide his steadily blushing cheeks. "I love you with all my heart. T-that's why it hurt me when you left… it hurt when you abandoned me and gained your freedom… but I knew… I knew… and I was scared… I didn't want to be alone… and yet look at me… miserabl-…" He stopped himself from rambling on. He felt the tears sting his eyes and follow the trails it was given, yet he was also painfully aware of the blush that spread across his face. He must have looked silly to Alfred…
A rather awkward silence stretched between them both. Alfred looked stunned for a minute. He shook his head and with… wait, was that determination Arthur saw in his eyes?
…And why was he walking to him with the air of someone about to do something life-changing…?
"O-oi, w-what're you doing?" Arthur blurted out. Alfred picked him up by the small of his waist, led them into the living room, sat on an armchair, and had Arthur sit on his lap.
"Arthur, please don't tell me I heard what I think I heard," he said. Arthur couldn't bring himself to look at him.
"Arthur, please look at me and repeat what I think you said," repeated Alfred. The intensity in his voice made Arthur cringe. He bit his lip and did as he was told, feeling his face flush hotter with each word he said. Alfred just stared at him, his mouth slightly agape.
"…I see…" murmured Alfred after a while. He leaned back against the armchair and let out a deep sigh. "Arthur…"
Another awkward moment. Whatever the hell was going on inside Alfred's brain that made him put Arthur on his lap like he did was beyond him… it was embarassing to say the least.
"W-well… Arthur… I-I really don't know what to say…" he muttered. Arthur let out a sigh.
Alfred leaned forward and embraced Arthur. Not knowing what to do, Arthur let him do so, leaning against the bulky American. He could feel and hear Alfred's heartbeat… rhythmic… soothing…
"L-look… it's not like I don't appreciate it but… Arthur… I… I don't want to hurt you again… seeing you like this is breaking my heart… I really don't want to be the cause of your hurt… y'know that right Iggy…?" said the American. He looked down and noticed that Arthur was nodding his head off. He shook his own and smiled, a hand patting the sandy blonde's hair.
It felt nice…
"…Arthur… I don't want to hurt you…" he murmured. Arthur buried his face into the American's chest.
"…We'll work something out…" he muttered. Alfred sighed and carried the older nation upstairs, making sure he didn't wake up on their trip there.
"…Sweet dreams Iggy… I'll be back later to check on you again…" he said. He planted a kiss on Arthur's forehead before letting himself out.
Well I'm hungry, tired, and in need of sleep. I really hope that this was a satisfying first chapter for everyone. If you don't mind… I'm gonna pass out now…
Reviews are very much appreciated. Next chapter will feature dear old Francis. How he sneaks into Arthur's house is beyond me.
Enjoy my pretties~
~Malkeria~