"A present for you, of course!" the blond haired man said, going by the name Alfred. "It's Christmas, isn't it?"
"I guess so,"
"So, open it, dude!"
"Fine! Don't rush me, Alfred," Arthur took the gift from Alfred's hand and started to slowly unwrap it, looking a little surprised to see what he got him. "Where'd you find this...?" The gift Arthur got was some sort of notebook with a Union Jack on the front.
Alfred snickered a little. "I found it in the GIRLS section of the mall." He giggled a little more before continuing to talk. "In other words...it's a diary."
"WHAT THE HELL, ALFRED?" Arthur growled angrily. "Are you trying to make fun of me?"
"What? No, dude! I'm serious about this! You seem so feminine, bruh," Alfred drummed his fingers on his knee. "I thought this was the perfect gift for you."
Arthur sighed and rubbed his temples softly. Was he really that feminine that everyone noticed? Not that he WAS feminine...right? "Al...just...I'm going to go." He stood up, still rubbing his head and heading for the door."
Alfred reached out to him. "Dude, wait! The Christmas Party isn't over yet-"
"TO HELL WITH THE PARTY!" Arthur yelled, slamming the door behind him.
After Arthur left, Alfred cursed under his breath. "Dammit, I went too far again..." As he was about to get up, the kitchen door was busted open and out came two people stumbling out, drinks in each hand.
"H-hey, Al," one of them slurred. "What...what's with all th' slammin' and stuff?"
"Ludwig, not now," Alfred groaned. He was now rubbing his temples as well. "Arthur's kinda pissed at his Christmas present I got him. He just now left."
Ludwig nodded, taking another swig of beer and leaning on the shorter, red haired man. "I...I see. Uhm, well he's missing out, you know?"
"L-Ludwig...you're...leaning on...on me," the other man said, his curl that protruded from the right side of his head twitching uncomfortably. He shakily took a sip of his drink and shivered.
Alfred shook his head, making his way into the kitchen and passing the two drunks. Once there, he let out a silent sigh. It seemed that Gilbert and Roderich were STILL kissing under the mistletoe, Ivan and Yao were being creepy, and Francis...well, being Francis.
Making his way to the living room, Alfred found the couch and sat on it. "God, I feel horrible."
"What's the matter, Alfred?" a soft voice said, almost inaudible. "Do you have a headache?"
Alfred turned his head slightly. "Nah. I'm alright, Matthew. I just messed up today is all."
Matthew creased his brow. "What happened? Was it Arthur...?"
"Yeah. I gave him his Christmas present...but he didn't like it," Alfred put both his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. "I'm wondering where the hell I went wrong at."
"Well, what did you get him?"
"A diary."
"...O-oh," Matthew looked away for a second. "Not to be rude, brother, but...I think that's where you went wrong." He then flinched a little, as if he was ready to get yelled at.
Alfred sat there for a moment, then sighed. "You're probably right, bruh. What was I thinking?"
Realizing no one yelled, Matthew straightened out. "You should go and apologize, eh? I think that would make things a little better for the two of you."
Alfred started to nod at his brother's request. "I should. Thanks Matthew," He swerved his body slightly and put his hand out, gesturing a handshake.
Matthew put out his hand and shook his hand. He was suddenly confused when Alfred started to add other things to the handshake. "Uhm...Alfred?"
"Sorry, bro. Got carried away." Alfred laughed.
Matthew laughed as well. Although, it was very faint. "It's okay, Alfred..."
X
Arthur locked himself in his room. "What the hell was that bloody twat thinking?" he shouted in his pillow, gripping it by the sides. "A diary? Seriously..." Lifting his head up from the pillow, he looked at the ground. The 'diary' that he smacked on the ground was just laying there, mocking him.
Grumbling, Arthur turned his body out of bed and reluctantly grabbed the diary. "Ugh...bollocks, this is not right," he muttered, flipping through the pages. The more he flipped, the more irritated he got. "God, I'm so mad! I just need to write it down to express how utterly mad I am! I-" Arthur paused, looking down at the empty diary, then grimacing. "Am I really going to do this?"
Arthur reached out and grabbed a pencil from his desk and stood up to sit in his chair. Opening back up the diary, he put the point of his pencil on the first line of the paper. "Here goes..."
~ Wow. Am I really writing in this? What am I supposed to write? Although, I'm pretty mad right now...that damn idiot. By 'idiot', I mean that stupid Alfred. He's the one who gave me this diary. Do I look like a girl? "You seem so feminine," he had said, obnoxious as ever. "So here's a diary!" That twat! I'm not feminine! I'm just a very formal man, is all.
Oh well. As I was saying, Alfred got me this diary for Christmas. I was actually pretty surprised to see it had my favourite flag on it, the Union Jack. I didn't want to show it, but I was a little happy. JUST A LITTLE!
Anywho, I'm getting a little sidetracked. The Christmas Party was good. But 'good' as in Gilbert and Roderich getting a little too frisky under the mistletoe, Feliciano and Ludwig getting drunk of their arses, and that silly Alfred failing horribly at Karaoke. That kind of good. Well, I should wrap my entry up here. Cheerio~ ~
"...Hm," Arthur gently closed the diary and let out a brief sigh. "Maybe this wasn't all so bad after all!"
X
Alfred quickly jogged through the crisp, cold air, shivering slightly as he took each step. "Brr, c-cold weather s-sucks," he shuddered, pushing his chin down to put his nose in his scarf. "Arthur's house shouldn't be that far away now..."
As he approached the last door on the right, he took his thickly gloved hand out of his warm pocket and knocked three times. "Artie, answer the door, please!"
Arthur abruptly jumped out of his seat. Was that...Alfred? "W-wait a tick!" he yelled out, fumbling the pencil in his hands and quickly rushing to the door. "Coming!"
Alfred was about to knock again until the door opened. "Oh. Hey, Arthur," he said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "I just came over here to-"
"Look, I don't really care, America."
"...apologize," continued Alfred, putting his hand back in his pocket. He felt around in there to see if he still had what he was going to get out. Still there.
Arthur stared up at Alfred for a few seconds. Is he really apologizing? "Um...well, I'm not sure if I'm ready to do that, Alfred..." he said, blushing a bit.
"Aw, dude! Come on! It's Christmas!" Alfred pouted. "Aren't you supposed to be jolly and giving?" His hand was coming out of his pocket inch by inch. But not quickly. Just really slowly.
Arthur had his eyes locked on his hand but looked up when Alfred started to talk again. What was he taking out?
"So...do you forgive me?" Alfred said, grinning widely.
"Uhm..." Arthur huffed out, still looking up at Alfred. "I guess, Al. But-"
Alfred abruptly cut him off, putting his left arm around the Brit's waist and pulling him into him.
Arthur jumped back a little but couldn't because of Alfred's arm around him. "A-Alfred...! What-"
"Look up," Alfred said, cutting Arthur off again. "I have something to show you."
"Ugh, you twit..." Arthur glanced up briefly, only to dart them away as soon as he saw what was up there. Alfred had a mistletoe above them between his two fingers. "...O-oh..."
Smiling, Alfred snaked his left hand up Arthur's body up to his chin, tilting it up a little. "You know what that means, Right, Artie?" he said, pressing his forehead against the other's.
Arthur had a crazy set of blush set upon his cheeks. He swallowed hard. "...Y-yes." he choked out, blushing too much to even speak.
"Then pucker up," Alfred tilted his head to the side and pushed his lips into Arthur's with warmth. "Merry Christmas, Arthur Kirkland."
Arthur blushed even more as Alfred kissed him. Not to mention calling him by his full name. He's always hated that. But when Alfred said it...it didn't bother him as much. Slowly, he moved his hands around the other's body, pushing himself deeper into his kiss. "Merry Christmas...Alfred F. Jones."