I met Shakespeare
When in disgrace with Fortune of men's eyes
I all alone between my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what
I most enjoy contented least,
Yet in these thoughts
Myself almost despising,
Haply
I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate
William Shakespeare - Sonnet #29
Alfred sat in the small living room of his DC home, the note had come under his door that morning and he had spent the following day trying to work it out. Yes he knew it was Shakespeare (obviously), and he could see that the layout was just weird. But it was why that had stumped him.
"Quite a riddle, non?"
Alfred spun round, glaring at the intruder to his home, "Francis!" The Frenchman mealy laughed and sat beside the American.
"So what do you know about this?" Alfred said, eyeing him suspiciously.
"I obtained this little abstract from a certain petit Angleterre.." Francis stated smugly.
"And why are you telling me why?" the venomous American snarled.
"The subject of our correspondents' was you, mon cher Amérique"
Alfred's world stopped, it was becoming clear as the note was taken from him and Francis read out the offending words, "My outcast state, curse my fate, more rich in hope, I most enjoy, myself, I think on thee. He curses himself for forcing you away, but he hopes that you will forgive him and that he most enjoys himself when he is with you….. Now don't you think its time to…" To late, Alfred was out the door and running.
London was cold and it was just Alfred's luck, Arthur was not in and his phone was off. Walking down south bank was something Alfred had not done in a long time and was not something to be done alone.
Alfred stopped along the bank, leaning ageist the old railing, watching the old boats roll by. The night was still young and the men and women of London were out in there hordes.
"When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married!"
The American lazily listened to the faint words of the actors inside the Globe theatre that stood behind him. Scanning the banks for any sign of bright green eyes.
"Alfred?"
The doors to the theatre opened then closed, Alfred spun round and was instantly dumbstruck. Standing before him was Arthur, resplendent in a calf length deep green cote and underneath he wore an obsidian black suite. Arthur in all his finery was simply breathtaking.
"Arthur.., what are you doing here?" he breathed.
"I was about to ask you he same thing …… what are you gawking at?"
Alfred shook himself from his stupor, smiling sheepishly as he approached Arthur. The Englishman did not make any move to back away from him, but he certainly looked confused.
"O, speak again, bright angel" Alfred whispered, mere inches from the brit.
"What?" Arthur breathed.
"For thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head
As is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
And sails upon the bosom of the air."
Arthur stood and gaped, "Wh- wha..?" well it had been a long time ago that he had been rendered speechless. Alfred smiled kindly, "the Frenchman gave me this" he said as he handed over the slip of paper.
The brit read the note, his own hand righting glaring up at him, "Oh…god" he gasped. Paling, Arthur forced himself to look away from the man in front of him.
It was now Alfred's tern to be uncertain, "A- Arthur? Hay what's wrong?"
"What's wrong?!" Was Arthurs voice usually that high? "You suddenly turn up talking about bright angels and lazy clouds, brandishing pieces of privet convocation and you ask me what's wrong?!"
"Oh…" Alfred had that dumb look on his face again.
"Don't you "Oh" me Alfred, what do you want anyway?! Come to rub it in my face, make a big joke of it, well ha ha! We're all laughing now aren't we?!" Arthur turned away but not fast enough that Alfred did not see the tears.
He lunged forward, rapping his arms around the brit's middle, "Let go of me!"
"Not until you listen to me" Alfred stated stubbornly.
Arthur stopped struggling, but kept his body tense. Alfred kept his hold on him, resting his head on the brit's shoulders as he spoke softly and quietly, "I'm not here to mock you…. I just wanted to say…, that I .. I don't blame you for all that's happened. It was going to happen at some point anyway and…..and this isn't coming out right…" he took a deep breath.
"Look Arthur" Alfred turned the Englishman in his arms around, looking him dead in the eyes. "Look, you need to tell me, cus I really don' know and it's driving me crazy here, so I'm gonna be blunt….do you love me?"