Alfred Jones sat at his couch in front of his coffee table and stared blankly at his TV, unable to focus on what was happening on it no matter how hard he tried. His left knee bounced up and down, and he absently sipped at his coffee, feeling extremely uneasy.
And all this, because he couldn't stop thinking about a certain Alice Kirkland.
Alice and Alfred had been dating for years, and had been in love for even longer than that. She lived all the way in London, England, while Alfred lived all the way in New York, in the United States. But despite the large amount of ocean between them, and the five hour time difference, they were still able to make it work. They were actually able to visit each other very often, and video called even more than that. Alice had even just gone home to England only five days ago. Whoever said that long distance relationships never worked out, were liars to them because they were working out just fine. They loved each other very much, and Alice made Alfred the happiest he had ever been.
But at that moment, Alfred had a bad feeling- a sinking, twisting feeling, in his gut. Something was wrong. And it was Alice.
Alfred had just picked up his cellphone to call Alice when the device in his hands began to ring, the screen lighting up. After a few seconds of staring at the display screen, he hit the green 'Accept Call', button, bringing the phone up to his ear.
"Hello?" He said questioningly. Why on Earth would Francis call him? It must've been at least almost seven o'clock at night in New York, and Francis lived in Paris. So why would he had called Alfred at almost one o'clock in the morning his time? There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, then Alfred heard Francis take a deep breath of air.
"...Bonjour, Alfred...something...something's happened...i-it's Alice...she...you need to come as soon as you can, it's...i-it's bad...," Francis said, his voice quiet, worried, upset, and scared sounding.
Alfred dropped the phone, Francis still talking, the cell landing with a soft thump on the blue carpet below. A hand came to his mouth, and his widened sky blue eyes filled with tears slightly, and his mind jumped from place to place. He had been right, something was wrong. And it was Alice.
The average flight time from New York to London was about six hours and twenty minutes. He had made this same trip hundreds- no, thousands,- of times before, and the flights always seemed to somehow go by quickly. But then, time was slower than ever- the plane couldn't move fast enough. He had gone through security and baggage as quickly as possible, and his mind wandered as he sat in his seat, waiting for the plane to finally take off.
"Please fasten your seat belts, and let us remind you that-" a cheerful, much-too-happy (to Alfred it seemed, anyway), female voice said over the speakers, and began to go over the safety regulations. To this, of course, Alfred paid no attention to as he absently buckled his seat belt.
As the plane traveled through the sky, Alfred stared out the widow at the thick clouds that blanketed around them. He blocked out anything and everything else, his mind focused on one thing.
December.
It had been months before, on a walk around Central Park; a walk they had taken many time before. Then, in front of a fountain, the empire state building in sight, he stopped Alice from walking for a minute. Then he got down on one knee, offered her a small, opened velvet-black box, and made her a promise.
"I want you forever- forever and always- through the good and the bad and the ugly. We'll grow old together, forever and always."
And she had said, "Yes."
The plane had landed hours ago, and Francis had given him directions to where he needed to be. The taxi cab pulled up to the entrance of the large building and he got out of the vehicle, absently paying the fare (and possibly given the man a generous tip in his traced state), as he stared up at the looming hospital building in front of him. He walked inside, to the front desk where an elderly brunette nurse sat at the desk in front of a computer. After a moment of talking to her, another nurse came and led Alfred down a million halls- a never ending maze of sick, injured, old, or dying people. Finally he was taken to her room. Alice's room.
Inside were all of their friends- Francis, Matthew, Kiku, Yao, Ludwig, Feliciano, and Ivan were all packed into the small, white room. They all looked up when Alfred entered, stood, and began to file out, each saying something to him as they passed.
"Bonjour...," Francis said quietly.
"I'm sorry," from Yao, and a sympathetic nod.
"It'll be okay," Ivan told him, with the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"You just have to keep hope~" Feliciano said, an arm on his shoulder.
"Hey, Al...," Matthew said in his usual soft, quietly shy tone, but this time it seemed even softer.
"It will all turn out alright," Kiku assured him.
"Let us know if you need anything, ja?" Ludwig offered, with a heavy pat on the shoulder.
The nurse explained what had happened, but Alfred could barely hear her, only getting snippets and pieces of what she said, unable to concentrate on her words.
"….Collision...accident...injuries...here two days now...we're trying to...not sure if...you...might not...Mrs. Kirkland, here, is...just let us know if...I'll be...later...," The nurse said to him, but all he could focus on was the small, pale- too pale, she was much too pale- form in the bed, the white sheets surrounding her served to only make her look paler and paler, smaller and smaller, worse and worse.
The nurse finally left after poking around with a few of the many- too many, far too many-wires and machines surrounding Alice. The door closed softly behind her, and they were alone. He tried his best to keep a straight face, when it was so hard not to cry, and sat next to her, by the bed. He held her hand a little too tightly, but neither of them seemed to care. She had woken the moment the nurse had left them alone, and her normally bright, fiery eyes lit up just the slightest little bit at the sight of him.
They talked about the kids they'd have, and that house on the hillside, in the country, where they'd live.
"We'll stay there forever- forever and always- through the good and the bad and the ugly. We'll grow old together, and always remember- whether rich or for poor or for better- we'll still love each other, forever and always."
After a while, their friends returned to the room, but the conversation stayed to almost none, the mood extremely down. But then, Alfred had an idea.
He went to the front desk, where the nurse's station was, and spoke to the brunette nurse from before. The elderly woman smiled at his idea and got the chaplain from downstairs. Alfred went to the couple in the room next door to Alice's, who lent him their rings- they also had smiled warmly at his idea.
The chaplain said a couple verses, and then Alfred looked into the dark, emerald green eyes he had fallen in so deeply in love with, and slipped the borrowed ring onto her left ring finger as he once more promised her the promise he had made her so many times before.
"I want you forever- forever and always- through the good and the bad and the ugly. We'll grow old together, and always remember- whether happy or sad or whatever- we'll still love each other, forever and always...forever and always...," he said, and tars slipped down everyone's face to the floor as they smiled and laughed.
But soon, the laughter died and the smiles faded away.
Alfred finished the vows, but now the beeps were getting too slow- too slow, way too slow, no, no, NO, this couldn't be happening!- and Alice's voice too low, as she said:
"I love you forever- forever and always- please just remember, even if I'm not here, that I'll always love you, forever and always..."
Then, her hand was limp in his, her chest still without breaths to move it up and down; her green eyes closed, never to open again.
His forever- his forever and always- had died, come to an end. Just like one might come to the end of a song...
