14th February, Valentine's Day and the one person that people didn't expect to be emotional or soppy on this day was the scott Alistair McIntire. Everyone thought he would just brush it off and carry on with his life like most people did thinking it was just an excuse for cheap beer and shag off a desperate girl, or guy in Alistair's case, who just wanted to feel accomplished with having someone on valentines.
Alistair wasn't like that at all and had spent most of his day and night of the 13th at his desk. He was an avid poet but it was mainly a hobby to him finding that he would get nothing out of being a published poet. Instead he wrote for himself and one other especially at this time of year. Valentine's Day brought out the scots soppy side more than normal wanting to show the one person his love and dedication even if he seems like a grump most of the time.
Sitting back in his desk chair, his curly red hair now falling out of his ribbon that normally held it back into some sort of order, he looked to the clock on his paper filled desk. Most of it being paper work he had to pass to his brother to do as he even admitted Douglas was the intelligent one out of the two of them, the other papers were his poet ramblings as he tried to find the one poem he wanted to pass on this year to his special love. The clock read 09:00 meaning the red head had been at this for almost 20 hours with no sleep. He sighed a little and rubbed the bridge of his nose, his eyes sunken and darkened from the lack of sleep with his concentration on this one poem. He then stood to get into the shower before he got ready to deliver the poem.
Letting the warm water rush over his battered and scared skin Alistair enjoyed the sensation of not having to think or work, even if it was just for a little bit. Running his hands through his now straight, darker hair thanks to the water he let out another sigh, no matter hard he tried there was always this one person on his mind. He knew come tomorrow things would be back to normal but until then he would do his best to get on with his day as usual.
Once he had finished in the shower, having only a towel wrapped round his waist he made his way back to his room where he had left his clothes and the poem. His dark eyes scanning over the writing checking it once more to make sure that it was as perfect as it could be. With a small nod as if confirming to himself that the writing was more than perfect, he moved to his bed where he already had his clothes lay out, his usual royal blue shirt with Scotland tie and black waist coat lay above a kilt of his own tartan. Getting dressed was a slow process for him, as his usual internal battle ensued of whether or not to go and give the poem in person but no matter how much he battled inside his own mind he knew that he would still go and visit them.
The wind was cold as he began on his way, the kind of wind that stings your lungs if you try and breath and your eyes if you tried to look straight ahead. He had wrapped up warm in his big dark blue coat and tartan scarf but still he could feel the chill in the air. Luckily the redhead knew the route too well and didn't need to see, he did the trip at least twice a year so his feet knew the way, only stopping when he reached his destination.
In front of him was where his lover currently stayed. A small sad smile came across his face as he looked up, the wind no longer blowing as harshly. The iron cross grave stone sat there marking the place of his once love, looking as if it was brand new, even the black eagle engraved in with the letters of the deceased name , age and chosen words looked as if they had just been done. The chosen words that had been engraved always made Al smile a little even if it was a sad smile. "Still smiling for you all even back here". The other had always been the one to keep smiling through anything no matter what, he was always the one who managed to get everyone smiling again.
"Alright," Al's words were soft but still had his Scottish brogue to them "That time of year again laddie, so I wrote yae another one" Clearing his throat a little he pulled out the poem from his pocket and began to recite it to the gravestone. As always reading the poem brought up so many feelings as well as the memories of the past. As he read each line different emotions were stirred up inside the redhead. The first verse he always felt a deep gaping hole that he felt would never be filed, but after so long it had begun to heal and close on itself but he knew there would always be one there. As he read the second verse he felt the loss and grieve all over again as if he was burying his love once again, causing tears that were previously being held back to start rolling down his cheeks silently. However the last two verses were always the hardest. This was when Alistair felt the guilt. Now a days he just called it the guilt as there was always so many types that built up inside him.
Sure the point of the poem wasn't for anyone to hear it or to impress anyone but to give his own piece of mind that no matter what the other was still in his heart where they would remain and he dedicated two days to that. Valentine's Day and the Prussian's birthday. He use to come on the anniversary of the others death but it just hurt too much to do so, so now that day he curls up under a blanket with a bottle of his strongest whisky of his sofa. However on the last anniversary one of his grandchildren curled up with him under the blanket keeping him company not even saying a word but knowing that her grampy was glad of the company while her sister sat in the arm chair trying to read them a story. He wouldn't admit it but seeing them like that always raised his heart at least a little on that dark day.
Once he had finished reciting the poem, even after getting a little chocked up half way through like always, Alistair lent down to the grave stone and placed a soft kiss on top of it as per usual. He never said goodbye as he turned to walk away. That was one thing the two of them had never done was to say goodbye, neither of them could bring themselves to do so thinking it would seem like a final farewell. Once he had taken a few steps away he turned to the grave stone.
" I'll see yae later Gil" Once he had spoken he heard something above him and looked up, there flying in the sky above him was a black eagle. Raising an eyebrow, Alistair watched it as it soared majestically around the area of the grave yard before disappearing into the grey abyss that was the Scottish sky. There was only one other time a black eagle had been spotted in Scotland and that was the day of the Prussian's funeral. With a small huff and a smile Al turned and continued on his way back to his home, but not without stopping at the pub first toasting a drink to Gil.