AN: Hello everyone! I wrote another one of these Alfred POV stories… I keep writing them for school assignments. Haha, the teacher doesn't even know about Hetalia or anything. But uh… yeah…. Hope this is ok! (Had to keep the word count modest for the assignment)
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I used to have really severe asthma as a little kid.
This was really unfortunate for my parents and I, as we lived in smoggy, polluted, metropolis New York City. And… I always ended up suffering the consequences. Coughing like a chainsmoker, wheezing like an old man, and a permanent burn resided in my throat from all of that nasty stuff in the air.
One particular year, our family had finally saved up enough money to send me to live with my uncles for the summer break. They lived in the countryside region of the United States, so we had hoped that breathing the fresh, clean air of the mountainsides of Wyoming would help to relieve some of my symptoms and keep me healthy.
I had never met them before, but nonetheless, they were delighted to have me stay with them and treated me as if I was their own child. There, we had spent many days together, playing in lakes under the hot summer sun, watching colorful sunsets, and catching fireflies in Mason jars near a campfire.
I had also met another kid the same age as me. In fact, he was a near-identical version of me that shared the same hay-colored blonde hair, big glasses, small nose, and delicate chin that I held. But thankfully, he wasn't. His name was Matthew Williams, and the only day that would ever be the same as Alfred F. Jones is the same day that pigs would fly.
We quickly became the best of friends. After all, I had to find some other way to amuse myself when my uncles were working with their tax bills and whatnot.
I never once found it strange how the only time he would come out and play with me was when I was by myself, and my uncles weren't near me. Or, when he would always hurriedly run back to wherever he came from and stammer some half-baked excuse of why he had to go whenver I asked him to stay over for dinner with us.
What I did find strange was the way some of the other neighborhood kids never saw him whenever I talked to them. Which wasn't much, considering the fact that I looked off my rocker talking to Mattie. They would point and stare and comment on how I was always talking to an empty space next to me.
Mattie always comforted me after their rejections, pulling me into his thin, bony arms as I cried into his chest.
"It's okay," he would repeat like a mantra, over and over and over. "I'm here for you," he whispered, along with other various sweet nothings in between the peppers of soft kisses he would trail against my face and neck.
Soon enough, I stopped trying to play with the other kids altogether. Mattie was enough for me. He was always enough for me. He was my best friend, and nothing would have changed that.
I would sometimes sneak out of the guest room I slept in during the strangest hours possible, just for another chance to see him. Somehow, Mattie would always be waiting for me, ever eager to see me once again. Even at 3am in the morning, when the world was quiet and the sun was not awake to greet us with its brightly shining rays yet.
I'll never forget the times we spent under the stars, out in the chilly night with no one but each other. Just each other's company and the ephermeral night sky, undisturbed from the daytime's chirping birds, other's raucous laughter, and the heat of the bold sun beating down on our backs.
When it came time for me to go home to the hustle and bustle of New York City - for the summer was ending and the start of school was near - I sought out Matthew for the last time before packing up my things and driving off to the airport.
I found him under the shade of the trees we would climb on, waiting for me expectantly.
"So," he started, voice flat and nonchalant. "You're going back to New York then."
With a sad smile, I confirmed the following. "I'll try to come back next year though, Mattie! It won't be so bad…" I tried to placate.
Mattie stared down at his hands, blonde hair falling to the sides of his face and hiding his expression. He was silent; I was silent; and the few moments that the world uttered no sound were the longest eternity I had ever felt.
Abruptly, he stood up and tackled me to the ground. Climbing on top of me, he harshly whipsered words that would haunt me to this day -
"Alfred. No matter where you go, you will always belong to me."
"Mattie, wait-"
Chapped lips crashed onto mine, desperate and hungry for more. Licking and biting at them, he left my lips bruised and bleeding.
His lips ghosted over my neck, tickling and raising the fine hairs on end. He stilled.
Then, a sharp pain. His teeth sunk into the delicate skin just under my jawline, leaving an obvious bruise and bite mark that would eventually leave a scar I still have.
That was when I seemed to wake up from my daze and shocked state of mind. I forcefully pushed him off of me and stumbled backward, slowly backing out of the clearing.
Mattie turned away from me.
"Go," he said, leaving no room for argument.
I looked back on him while running away, still attached to our friendship and unsure from this new development. But when I did, he was gone.
That was the last time I would ever see him.
Later, when my uncles asked me where I was, I told them I had gone to say farewell to my friend, Matthew.
I didn't notice their worried expressions at first when they said there was no one named Matthew for miles around.
When they asked me to describe him, I said he looked just like me, because he did, after all.
As I told this tale while reuninting with my parents, I found at that I had a twin from birth that died in the womb while they were vacationing in Wyoming years before.
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AN: So I'd love to hear you're feedback on that! Drop a review, pleaseeee! Oh, and, uh…. I swear I'll update Don't go off with him, you're better with me! Someday…