Note: I wrote this story a year ago but never put it up. I found it and finally decided to post it.
The rain pelted the dark house from outside while thunder echoed. A light shinned from a candle in what looked like a study. A nice cherry wood desk stood toward the middle of the room with a bookcase in front and two behind it full of books and other files. The fancy desk chair was pushed out a little and papers were scattered. On the floor toward a corner of the study sat a man curled up. He had dirty blonde hair, and nicely dressed slacks with a white button-up and sweater-vest. His shoes were kicked off toward the middle of the room infront of the desk. He slowly started rocking back and forth. To be honest he didn't look great, he had bags under his eyes from staying up late in the nights and red eyes from the tears he's been crying. Why was this man crying? Was he heartbroken? Yes. How was he heartbroken? Who broke his heart? A child. That is who broke his heart. A pathodic, idiotic, stupid, prat of a child by the name of Alfred F. Jones! Yes! He is who broke the heart of Arthur Kirkland! The mighty Kingdom of Great Britian had fallen, to a child at best! How did this happen? Why did this happen? Alfred was so innocent and adorable. Now, now he was just like the rest. A betrayer, backstabbing lying sun of a gun! That was what America truly was. Everyone always thinks America the Great. Oh America's so nice and lovely! He's so kind. Lies. That's what they are. All lies. If only they all knew the truth, the truth of what America really is. He stills your heart and ripes it to peices! That is the true America. This is the Alfred, Arthur knows now. He tried, he tried his best to keep Alfred his but he grew up, he grew up to fast. Arthur couldn't stop it from happening, he knew he couldn't, but he didn't think it would happen so soon, this soon. Being out on that feild in the rain, aiming a musket at his dear, dear Alfred before him. He couldn't, he just couldn't pull the triger. And now. Now America is free, no longer his colony, the child he raised. Now he's Alfred, Alfred F. Jones of the United States of America. How many years has it been? 235. Yes, it's been a long time since then he guesses. Yet he still cries every night on that night. Remembering everything that happened, the day Alfred and America got their Independence. That is the reason Arthur sits in his study crying, trying so hard not to rememebr again but he can't help it. Not matter what, it always comes back to haunt him, and always will. Atleast so he thinks, so far.
"Why did he have to leave? Why did he have to break me so much and torcher me for 235 years! WHY!" Arthur questions himself as he cries. "Will this ever stop? Maybe. Maybe one day it will, but till that day comes, I'm stuck here in depression for all eternity. That, that is when he showed up. After 235 years, he came back. But why?"Alfred walked up to Arthur looking down at him with a frown.
"Why are you doing this to yourself Arthur?" He asked cerious.
"Leave me be, you buffone!" Arthur said turning his back to him more.
"Come on Artie! Don't be like that!" Alfred smiled a little to try and lighten up the mood.
"Every year you do this! It's been 235 years now Artie! Come on!"
"That's exactlly it! You don't get it!" Arthur spun around jumping up at Alfred, yelling as tears continued to run down. "You don't even bloody know why!"
"The revolution," Alfred said his expression going serious and his voice cold. "Arthur. I know, I was there-"
"WHY!" Arthur yelled again. "Why did you do it?" He started softly punching Alfred in the chest.
"I didn't have a choice. My people wanted freedom, and you kept taxing us! Hell Artie you were taxing Tea! TEA Artie! Plus If I didn't break from you then I wouldn't be able to do-," Alfre said looking at Arthur. Arthur slowly calmed down looking up at Alfred.
"Do what?"
"This," With that Alfred bent down and captured Arthur's lips in a kiss. After what felt like minutes they parted panting lightly.
"Why?" Arthur asked.
"Because," Alfred paused. "I love you, I've loved you since I was little. At first I thought it was just general brother love but...I figured there was more, I started...picturing you...differently." Alfred blushed.
"Alfred," Was all Arthur could responed. "I...I thought you would never love me. When you left me. I thought all was lost. I thought you hated me, my guts, my country, everything. I was depressed and for years...I just...I-"
"Isolated yourself from everything so you would never feel that pain ever again," Alfred interupted.
"Yes, but now..." Arthur looked up at Alfred agian. "Now, I just don't know."
"I see," Alfred sighed.
"But," Arthur started and Alfred quirked up. "I still love you, even after everything. That's why I've cried all these years. Cause I knew I would never be able to get over you."
"God Arthur," Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist. "I love you so freakin much!"
"I love you too my love," Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck.
"Please forgive me," Alfred breathed againist Arthur's neck.
"I did years ago, I just always wanted to hear thoughs words from you," With that Arthur sealed the kiss with Alfed and stood there in the dim candle lit room as the rain lightly pattered the house and the storm slowly passed. America and England certainly do have a special relationship don't they?
