Hello.

I guess I should warn you that there are dark themes in this story. An example is a suicide attempt. Please proceed with caution.

Arthur saw a moving van through one of the windows and thought nothing of it. People stay and go, that's how it worked in life. The man who was moving in was a pretty tall, sandy haired blond who presumably had glasses. It seemed possible that we were the same age. The moving van driver and the blond seemed to be having a pleasurable conversation because even from this distance, Arthur felt that they were both smiling.

Suddenly, he broke eye contact with the driver and looked up. Arthur saw a pair of the most playful and resplendent blue eyes he had ever seen, staring right at me. With quick reflexes, Arthur looked away and closed the curtains. He then went into one of the many guest rooms and sank into the mattress to meet a peaceful slumber. He thought about the blue eyed man, the story that he might be carrying; a family, many friends, most definitely a girlfriend or two, no girl can escape that stare. But those were just artless thoughts. They were on different sides of the world. He has a bright future ahead of him for sure. That meant that Arthur need to stay out of his way for as long as he's staying. He never looked out that window for the rest of the day.

Alfred was riding inside a kind of cramped and really dusty moving van to a place in faraway Britain to a neighborhood he knew nothing about. If that's not what people call exhilarating, Alfred would question their very sanity.

Alfred is 18 years old and just graduated from a high school in America. He came here because around this area, the best college for the field he want to work in existed. Also because he just wanted some time to himself. He had too many friends in America and he wanted to try spreading my boundaries a bit by making friends from other countries.

Heck, he just made a new one today and it's the moving van driver, Michael.

The moving van came to a halt in front of the house that will probably be the place that he will live in for a good chunk of his life. It didn't seem that bad, two stories and enough space for a soon-to-be college student to stay in.

He stepped out and immediately thanked Michael for the drive and he insisted that he didn't deserve any thanks because it was his job. They broke into heavy laughter.

All the sudden, Alfred felt a presence of something staring at him. He looked around to try to find the source and was met with a pair of eyes peering at him from a tall window in a fairly old house not too far away. Catching my stare, he (?) immediately shut himself out, like a small, scared creature. Alfred was kind of disappointed when he went away, because boy wasn't he something else to look at. Even from far away, Alfred was able to make out piercing, green eyes that were like gemstones you can see in jewelry stores except much, much more dazzling.

But behind that stare, Alfred detected a hint of loneliness and perturbation. Someone who was in need of saving.

Well, wasn't he lucky, 'cause a perfectly good hero just moved in next door!

Great. Everything was in place. Except for that picture frame over there, maybe that needs to be moved a bit to the left…

Alfred's first day at college went well, made a lot of friends. There was a group of people called the bad touch trio who played pranks and flirted with girls. He also befriended this Asian guy who was reserved and didn't talk much. The professors seemed alright, he did get scolded for daydreaming during a lecture though.

After that a few days passed and Alfred managed to finally feel like this place was his second home. It's was much quieter than Alfred's old place but that's was alright with him. The silence gave it a more comforting atmosphere and he can hear the birds singing every morning. But something still bothered him and has been for a while.

The house next door and the man who inhabited that place.

Alfred never forgot that one time they shared eye contact and so that was why he was on his doorstep, furiously knocking and pressing the doorbell.

There was no answer.

A normal person would have walked away, a normal person would have given up.

But he was not normal, he was Alfred, so for 20 minutes, he stood on his doorstep and made some noise.

And finally, as his knuckles started bleeding, he heard the shuffling of feet inside the house. Then a click, and then a creak.

Alfred's line of vision met a man with a tight scowl and a bird's nest for hair, unmistakably the man whom he saw at the window. With a raspy, obviously unused voice, he asked

"What do you want?"

Even though this man was boring holes into him with his intimidating glare, Alfred replied with a chirpy voice.

"Hi! I'm Alfred Jones but you can call me Al. I just wanted to introduce myself since I moved next door and-"

"Yes, quite alright. I am perfectly aware that you moved next door, I remember hearing your obnoxious voice singing some… what was it… Ah yes, Miley Cyrus songs in the middle of the night."

Alfred rubbed my neck in embarrassment.

"Well, nice meeting you… I guess. Now if you excuse me, I must prepare for bed."

"What do you mean, it's not…"

He looked around and realized that the sun was setting. The lampposts were on and the neighborhood was enveloped in a soft, amber light.

"Oh."

"Goodbye Mister Jones."

Before he slammed the door in Alfred's face (as he expected him to do), he held open the door for a bit longer with his super strength.

"But… But you haven't told me your name neighbor?"

He looked down, his face was distraught with thought.

"You're not going to leave unless I tell you huh."

"Yep!"

He gave a sheepish grin.

"… Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

And with unmatchable speed he ripped the door out of his grip and shut it closed.

Alfred walked home with the same sheepish grin imprinted on his face. He felt like a winner that night.

Even after the… strange first meeting, it seemed commonplace that Alfred would come over, knock furiously, and Arthur would pop his little head out to nag at him for being at his doorstep. But he keeps answering the door so Alfred knew he secretly likes his daily visits.

Alfred just recently realized that he sacrificed a lot of things to meet him every day. Alfred was invited to a lot of parties but he never went to any if they clashed with the special time he met with Arthur. Additionally, he had so much university work to do, but he always put it off for these visits.

Wasn't he a good friend?

Today, Alfred arrived with a gray, cloudy sky hovering above him and knocked the same way he did every day. Like always, he opened the door, a little quicker than last time. He stared at me with those miraculously large green pupils and said suddenly,

"It smells like rain."

Alfred laughed,

"Don't worry Artie! The weather forecast said that it was going to be cloudy, but there's like, a 0% chance of rain."

Arthur shook his head at Alfred.

"Alfred. I can smell the rain. It's coming pretty soon, I think you should leave."

Alfred sighed and looked at him disbelievingly.

"Artie, don't be ridiculous, only magic people can do things like that, you just want to drive me away don't you? Well you can bet that-"

He stopped midway from my ramblings to hear the soft staccato sounds of rain behind him.

"Oh shoot."

The staccato sounds started to increase their tempo and volume as the drizzle turned into a shower into a-

BOOM

"AHHHHHHHHH!"

Alfred shrieked and could only see white and blurs. He felt something bump into him and smelled an unfamiliar scent. He heard a crash, a shout, and my head hitting something hard. He saw green, black, and then nothing.

Alfred opened my eyes to see carpet floors, a white shirt, and blond streaks of hair….

Wait a minute.

He shot out of his original position to realize that he might have accidentally… fallen over Arthur.

Yep, he's definitely unconscious.

Whoops.

Alfred took the time to stare at his seemingly lifeless body sprawled across the floor.

He may have a bad attitude, but he was certainly not unattractive. His unruly hair was spread out all over, almost creating a halo around his head. His skin was unhealthily pale and his closed eyelids only emphasized his feminine, long eyelashes that strangely complimented his large eyebrows. His mouth was set in a straight line, I secretly wished it was smiling.

He would be drop dead gorgeous if he smiled more.

Alfred felt a bubbling feeling inside him when he imagined Arthur's lips curling up into a small smile.

He picked up Arthur and was surprised that he was so light.

This definitely isn't healthy.

He then was moved on the couch where Alfred continued his observations.

It has been several hours since Arthur fainted after being crushed by Alfred. His unconsciousness started to fade and two green eyes slowly opened. The first thing he saw was the ceiling, hang on, was the ceiling always blue? His mind was slowly processing his surroundings until,

"ARTIE!"

Oh bloody hell.

"You're finally awake, thank god! I thought I had to call the ambulance and stuff, but I could have just carried you over to the nearest hospital because you're so light like, is that even healthy? You keep telling me I eat too much after I brought a box of donuts over but you know-"

"Alfred, shut up for a bit, please."

He gently placed his palm over his face and sighed, Alfred was looking over him, looking worried.

"Are you okay?"

Arthur could only grunt in response. Honestly, what was up with this American, his whispering can give anyone a migraine, doubt that he can whisper though.

Alfred…

Wait a minute.

"ALFRED F JONES WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE!"

Alfred gulped.

"Um, I knocked you over and I felt responsible so I nursed you here?"

"…"

Is that what happened.

"… Are you speaking the truth?"

"Y-yeah! A hero never lies!"

Arthur groaned.

"Alfred, please leave."

"But Artie, I want to see your house! Pretty please?"

"No, and that's final."

"Is that how you say thanks to someone who helped you? That's cold."

"Good for you to have noticed. Now leave."

"… Artie."

"What?"

Alfred walked over to a nearby window and yanked the curtains open. The surroundings were clouded in a dark, ashen color. Rain was showering heavily, and the sound of thunder can be heard far away. A large gust of wind sped past, causing nearby trees to bend in dangerous angles. Alfred made some obvious hand gestures, making Arthur mutter in defeat.

"Fine."

Alfred fist pumped the air as Arthur got off the couch.

"Can you check the clock Alfred?"

"Uh… It's like, 8 pm dude."

Arthur stared at the kitchen for a moment.

"Can you cook Alfred?"

"Kind of yeah."

"Good."

Arthur shoved Alfred into the kitchen and turned him around so he would face him.

"Why don't you make yourself useful by cooking us both dinner? You better keep the kitchen clean or I'm going to leave you outside, where it's raining cats and dogs."

He abruptly walked away as Alfred saluted and said "Yes sir" while setting up the counter top.

Arthur climbed upstairs and went into his room. He went to his dresser to find suitable clothes for Alfred, unfortunately, Alfred would be too big for any of his clothes. He fell onto his bed, not knowing what to do. He was suddenly hit with a sinking feeling. He had to offer his brother's clothes to Alfred.

He slowly got up and dragged himself out of his room. He wasn't ready to go in, ready to face his sins. It didn't help that his brother's room was right next to his. Without realizing, he was right in front of the door. His hand, shaking, went to turn the doorknob. He flinched, it was covered in a thick layer of dust. His fingers gripped the doorknob and started to turn it, a large screeching noise rang throughout the empty hallway. All the sudden, the door flew open on its own, ripping Arthur away from gravity and sending him flying onto the floor. Papers flew everywhere and swirled around him in small tornados, taunting him, shrieking at him.

"MURDERER!"

From the now open door, figures owned by his brother were laughing at him.

"HOW PATHETIC. HOW PATHETIC. HOW HEARTLESS."

Soon, the pieces of paper were joining in on the laughter and chants.

"DIE ARTHUR KIRKLAND, DIE!"

All Arthur could do was lay there crouching over, his head on his knees, guilty tears streaming from his face, his voice joining the wailing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, forgive me, FORGIVE ME!"

A large gust of wind managed to scoot over a pair of scissors in front of him. It inched over quickly, insisting to be used.

"DO IT, DO IT, DO IT!"

Without hesitation, Arthur picked up the pair of scissors and put it against his neck. His tear-stained faced now smiling painfully.

"… Will you forgive me now, brother?"

Before he even tried cutting through his skin, a hand smacked the scissors away. His mind spinning, he persistently tried to grab the scissors again but he was being held back. He gazed up to see the source of his failure. Blue eyes were staring back, shocked, scared, and worried.

"Arthur?"

The gust of wind died quickly, the paper settled, and the figures were silenced.

All that was left was the sounds of sobbing and the whispers of comforting words.

Should I continue this story?