Tears ran down the young man's face as he looked down at the three fresh cuts on his wrist, they crossed over several healed and half-healed scars, running across his smooth, pale skin. His pushed his blond hair away from his face before moving to cut again, the blade of the razor he was using glinting in the artificial bathroom light.
Before he could draw blood again there was a light knock on the door, "Mon Petit, it's time for supper."
He sighed before replying, "Okay, Papa. I'll be there in a minute."
His father paused at his tone, "Well do not be long. It would not do to let your food grow cold."
"I won't Papa, I'll just be a moment."
He waited until he'd heard his father's footsteps disappear down the hallway before relaxing slightly. Quickly he stowed the razor in its usual hiding place behind the toilet cistern and pulled his sleeves down to hide the marks that covered his arms. Sniffing his wiped his eyes and – to avoid any suspicion of what he'd been doing – flushed the toilet. He washed his hands and splashed his face with water before leaving the room. Slowly he made his way through the house and into the dining room. He sat down beside his twin who smiled at him and raised an eyebrow.
Smiling back he looked around, pausing as he saw who was dishing up the dinner, "Papa didn't let Dad cook did he?"
His brother laughed, "No. But even Dad couldn't make Papa's food taste bad just by putting in on a plate."
The both laughed harder and were still giggling when their fathers entered the room and placed the plates they were carrying on the table. They sat down opposite the boys.
The four of them talked idly as they ate, discussing their days and what plans they had for the next day. The boys would be returning to school after the half term break and they both had exams coming up in a month or so.
Once the food had been eaten and the washing up done they moved into the living room and settled down in front of the TV. They had a sofa that was large enough to fit them all comfortably; Arthur and Francis in the middle with Alfred beside Arthur and Matthew curled up slightly against Francis with his feet neatly tucked up underneath himself.
It wasn't until Matthew fell asleep against his Papa that they boys were sent to bed. They shared a room; one half was covered in hockey posters with a huge Canadian flag on one of the walls for Matthew while the other half had posters of American Football players and rock bands with an equally huge American flag for Alfred.
They changed quickly into their pyjamas and bade each other goodnight before settling down to sleep and turning off the light.
Alfred shifted in the dark until he found his plush toy buried under the covers and hugged it close to his chest. Only Matthew knew he still needed Tony the Alien to sleep whereas Arthur and Francis both knew about Matthew's attachment to his toy bear Kumajirou.
"Found him...?" Matthew whispered sleepily, hugging said bear tighter.
Alfred smiled softly, "Yeah... G'night Mattie..."
"Night Al..."
Both boys quickly sank into warm sleep.
Author's Notes: So basically this came from talking to people about having to hide how you really feel and put up a mask to hide your weaknesses from the world around you. Which got me thinking about how overly happy Alfred always is all the time. And this was born.
I don't own Hetalia.