A short, hopefully not too badly-written drabble-sort thing for Self-Harm awareness day. Meaning behind the title and the actual fic is at the end.
Warnings: References to self-harm and slight yaoi.
Alfreds' POV.
"Morning." You smile a little as you see your bushy-eyebrowed friend walking towards you, his eyes glittering slightly as he smiles.
"Morning, Arthur. You seem happy today." You smile gently at him, the statement surprisingly not catching him off-guard for once.
"Look, Alfred. Butterfly." You look at him with a confused expression as he thrusts out his hand, a black-outlined butterfly with orange wings drawn onto his pale, creamy skin. "Do you understand?" The Brit slows slightly as he asks the question, staring up at you. "Do you understand the butterfly?"
You hesitate before replying, "Yeah, I understand the butterfly."
"... What about the colour?" The man seems to have sobered up, his eyes reflecting his seriousness.
"Not really..."You muter, noting as the mans' eyes darken for a split second before lighting up again.
"Okay." The boy mumbles, opening his art book as he sits down for form assembly, pawing through pictures of flying bunnies, unicorns and pirates.
Arthurs' POV.
"Francis..." You mumble, walking over to him slowly, a fluorescent orange marker in hand.
"Oui, England?" He replies cautiously, making a mental note of your seriousness. You walk over to him, standing in front of him before pulling up his left sleeve gently, eyes lingering against the scars and cuts that run up and down his arms.
"Authu-" The Frenchman is cut off as you gently press your lips against his wrist, dry, ragged marks against soft, warm lips. You pull away an smile gently at Francis, the mans' eyes watering as you draw an orange butterfly on the back of his hand, writing the words 'stay strong' beside it, said words accompanied with a small orange heart. You only look up when you see a tear fall onto the butterfly, your arms instantly wrapping around the crying man before you.
"Sssh, it'll be okay..." You mumble reassuringly as he clings to you, his face buried gently into your shoulder.
"Arthur, I..."His voice trails off into broken sobs, his face once more buried in your shoulder. You look up at him gently as he pulls away, your green eyes widening as he pulls your hand upward, your sleeve falling and revealing fading scars as his lips meet the back of our hand, your butterfly. No words are said as you pull Francis into a tight embrace, the two of you not saying a word as you stand together. You both know what those simple actions mean to one-another. Those three, simple words that shall never be said.
"I love you."
A/N: Hopefully not too downright dodgy. Short, I know, but that's what happens when you get bored in history and are paranoid about the teacher catching you. I might write a sequel or more chapters or the like in the future, but for now it's being posted as complete. TO THE EXPLANATIONS.
Self-harm awareness day is on March 1st, you wear something orange to show your support for people that hurt themselves and their family and friends that are affected by it. Self-harming can be cutting, burning, biting, scratching, punching, starvation, etc.
The Butterfly Project is a project that some people that self-harm (or don't) may partake in, it's basically where (if you're a self-harmer), whenever you want to hurt yourself, you draw a butterfly and write the name of someone important or special or inspirational next to it, and you have to wait for it to naturally come off. If you hurt yourself before the butterfly naturally comes off, you kill the butterfly.
... Basically, the orange is to represent the day and the butterfly is for the project. And yes, this authors' note is probably longer than the fanfiction. Anyways.
Please rate and/or review, it would be lovely to have some feedback. Flames are also accepted. c:
~Nimu.