1935

The room was laid out perfectly, annoyingly perfect almost. A glittering chandelier, probably pure diamond, cast shadows of iridescent light throughout the ballroom space. Soft piano played with expertise reverberated throughout to create a mellow tone. The floors gave off a polished amber glow paired with warm cocoa coloured walls. Expensive looking paintings of landscape ranging from green meadows dotted by lavender, to seasides with splashes of ocean, surrounded deep velvet curtains that opened to reveal French Windows. The large bay doors opened to a spacious balcony supported by Roman Arches. With waiting-staff offering imported champagne in crystal glasses, the look was complete. To ambassador Arthur Kirkland, the sight was sickening. What had happened to meeting in an average conference room? They were representatives, not royalty! And where had the money to support this come from? Certainly not from the association's treasury. They were supposed to discuss problems from their respective nations, but what he received was a posh gathering of aristocratic dimwits. At least the piano music was nice. He was offered a glass for the third time this night. Just to be left alone, he took it.

'Even the glasses look expensive!' he silently remarked. Sighing, and wondering what society was coming to, Arthur took a quick sip. No use just holding it anyways. The usual slight burn that accompanied alcohol was present, but a light fruity taste mingled with it. Despite his prejudices, even he had to admit the champagne was amazing. Many others were already drunk, addicted to its tantalizing flavour. Speaking of addictions, a sort of line had formed near the end of the room to ask one of the few female representatives to dance. If he recalled correctly, she was there as a representative for Belgium. Arthur watched as she denied (politely mind you) man after man, all while shaking her golden locks. She was pretty, he had to give her credit for that, but her tactics were more than commendable.

He smiled when he caught on. 'Clever. Who knows what sort of mayhem would result from envious men, denied of a dance?'

Arthur snapped out of his cynical thoughts and secret musing when he felt a light tapping on his right shoulder. The person behind the action was a rather tall blonde man. His suit was rather nice and professional, but everything else about him practically screamed 'disorganized'! Unkempt hair-with one obnoxious unruly curl-framed a nicely sculpted face. A pair of slightly crooked glasses served as windows to playful oceans of blue eyes.

"Excuse me, care to dance?" Not a bad voice either. Ah, and that smile….wait. Had he just asked for a dance?

Arthur shook his head dubiously. "Are you asking me?" The poor boy must have been drunk.

The blonde laughed for a moment, which made Arthur scowl, before replying "Yes you. May I have this dance?"
He scoffed at the confidence of the- wait, what nation was he here for anyways? It would come to him. Seeing as there was no harm in it and that the man was probably so drunk that he wasn't able to distinguish genders anymore, he consented. But only for one dance.

Arthur allowed himself to be guided to the center of the ballroom by the man. The minute they reached the center, a slower waltzing song meant for couples played. Maybe he regretted this decision just a little…now people were watching, and he was getting nervous. A gentle hand reassured him.

"It'll be fun! I'm Alfred by the way. Alfred F. Jones," the now revealed Alfred stated proudly.

Arthur wondered what the 'F' in his middle name stood for. The piano music grew louder somehow, loud enough to drown out the sound of his thudding heart. He let Alfred lead, considering their certain circumstance. It only took a moment for the two to dance in sync. At that moment, the two became immortal in a way. Their steps seemed nonexistent, moving with unrealistic steps. For now, they were no longer just Alfred and Arthur. They were two souls that flowed and glided to the song, enveloping each other all the while. Two silhouettes had never seemed so perfect, so harmonious, so….fitting.

By the time the music dimmed, most of the other representatives had left. To his embarrassment, Arthur was still holding onto Alfred's hand. "I-that is to say you, I mean, what I meant to say was-" His flustered explanation was cut off by a short laugh from the blonde. Needless to say, Arthur just huffed in annoyance to the childish response. Together, they made their way to the balcony. Dazzling starlight speckling the midnight blue sky along with the barely visible traces of wild lilies welcomed the couple.

"Even the scenery is too perfect" Arthur groaned. It was hard to dislike the place just as it was equally difficult to enjoy it.

Alfred smiled at the snide remark. "Well, I think it's very...atmospheric. I haven't exactly been to any place like this in my life." The news was shocking, to say the least.

"If you're an ambassador, shouldn't this be normal to you? What country are you representing anyways?" Arthur tried to hide any growing panic with his questions. For all he knew, this man could be an agent sent to target and kill the representatives, starting a whole new World War.

Again, Alfred laughed off the suspicion as if it were nothing. "Listen, I'm not allowed to say anything but, I represent America."

It wasn't exactly as the British ambassador thought, but it was still surprising news. "Haven't the states claimed to isolationism? What are you doing here?" Alfred looked a little shy and at a loss for words temporarily.

"We...we still need to be included in details. That's why they sent me. I'm actually just a small-time reporter. The government figured someone like me would be easier to sneak in rather than one of their more recognizable reps." For the first time, the American seemed rather self-conscious.

Arthur was more than happy to discover the secret the man was hiding as well as where the familiar accent had come from. His silent musings were silenced when Alfred, who had somehow gotten closer, stated: "You look amazing when you smile."

Though the comment sent butterflies of warmth through him, it was time to put an end to the charade. "You realize I'm not a woman right?" Hopefully, the lad wouldn't be too upset and they could continue the night without too much of a fuss-

"I know," he replied bluntly. "Why? Did I treat you too much like one?" And there it was again. That thudding, hammering feeling in Arthur's chest.

"N-no. Wouldn't you rather dance with a female?" That was the social norm was it not? Granted, he preferred to keep his options open, but this was the first time Arthur had actually been in this type of situation.

Alfred grinned a twinkling grin. "But I liked dancing with you."

Being so used to a routine and methodical planning, the British representative stood dumbfounded by this new development. "I suppose...I rather enjoyed dancing with you as well, Alfred."

The conversation stayed light for the remainder of their time together. Only laughter could be heard accompanied by the ever-present tune of the piano. Though neither of them knew it at the time, this was what could be described as 'love'. So as Arthur pulled Alfred into a passionate kiss fueled by a strange sensation, an irreplaceable feeling that warmed their hearts and bound their souls made itself felt. That bond was too quickly broken in more ways than one.

"We...we can't. If anyone knew," Arthur began.

"Then we'd both be in a mess, I know," Alfred finished.

"In another time, another place. Maybe, just maybe, we could have been together," Arthur sighed wistfully.
"I'll wait for that day," Alfred promised.

'But that won't ever stop me from loving you.'