Alright, here is a story I started and then forgot about. I at least wanted to get part of it done, see if it's any good. For the most part, I am actually proud of parts of this. Hopefully I can find sometime to finish it (it has been sitting in my Doc Manager for months and I didn't want it to go unread!). Well, I hope bits of it aren't too cheesy or too obvious. Whenever I write USUK I always end up making it cheesy! D:
Enjoy!
Everyone has always told me I never smile... Well, everyone that I know and that's not a lot of people. Yet, when the corners of my mouth upturn, my friends say it is more of a shadow of the real thing.
A ghost, if you will.
Personally, I find it slightly offensive. I mean, a ghost only appears if it was alive and then died... Right? You know I might only be freshmen in college, but the thought of a smile dying isn't very uplifting. I mean I don't want to be off to the real world thinking that my smile has "died." That would be a little shitty, don't you think? No, I'd like to think that my smile is very well alive, it's just... shy. Yes, that's sound all and dandy! It's shy, er, I mean I'm shy.
And why am I telling you this?
Because that's what a journal is supposed to do. It just makes me feel a little bit less lonely if I pretend I'm talking to someone. Now don't go off pitying me! I am fine being alone, I prefer it that way. I'd take a day of loneliness and silence over the headaches of unwanted human company any day. It's only once in a blue moon (where the hell did I pick that saying up from?) when I really long to carry a conversation with a stranger. I have Francis, and that is enough human companionship for a life time! The man is like a walking persona of a headache; flashy clothes and an even more garish personality to go with it... Why am I even friends with him? No, seriously, I'm asking you... Wait, I'm interrogating a journal... This is just as bad as talking to myself.
Oh, God... I must sound like a raving lunatic! Am I bipolar or something? ... Nope, just lonely. Check! So if I start to go crazy, just stop me, okay? Okay. Good...
I should probably get off this hill, the sky is gorgeous and all, but I only came out to watch the sunset. It was beautiful, but now the sky in that weird transition between dusk and pitch black. I need to go home before I get stuck in the middle of nowhere. Seriously, who would want to be lost in this stupid town? An idiot, that's who. But all jokes aside (if you count my sarcasm as a joke, I'm not really this cynical... Or am I?) I need to get home, I'd feel like a freaking twit if I got lost here. And their lack of street lamps is not helpful... Didn't someone think that it might have been a bright idea to invest in some lights? They don't want some bloke wandering off and getting himself hurt.
Shit, it is getting really dark. I can't even see the page well anymore, for all I know I could have run off the page.
Until we speak again,
Arthur Kirkland (Is that too formal?)
Closing the first page of my journal, I read over it and stretched, every bone in my back cracking satisfactorily. God I had been lying on stomach for a while, I bet I have grass stains on the front of my shirt... Nevermind, I checked. It's good.
I looked from left to right, my bangs getting in my eyes like the constant annoyance they are. Hmmm, I have no clue where I am. Well fuck it.
I stood, walking in the direction of my car. At least I could sit in there and retrace my steps. My legs were stiff, but it was nothing a little exercise wouldn't erase. As I walked I thought about the past few days. The whirlwind of events and circumstances of this past week, it made my stiff legs suddenly soft and difficult to walk in. Luckily the car door was in arms length, I grasped it with white knuckles and pulled myself into the car.
Now, I am not a weak man, but this whole week has just been total absurdity. And when I was weak, I somehow managed to dig myself a big enough whole that my present day self cannot seem to escape. No matter how I prove myself time and time again, the only thing anyone sees is the weaker version of myself that I used to be. Since when did you only get to be one person? When did people stop allowing change? Bollocks, I'm crying again.
I wiped away the tears threatening to spill over, then I paused. Since when did I start crying outside the vehicle... Nope, scratch that foolish notion, it's just raining. As if this day could any better...
God, I'm starting to sound like a bitchy school girl. And I hate bitchy school girls. This road looks familiar, so I'm going to take it. This is a bad day, but if I sit here it's only going to get worse. And I do not want it to get worse, so it's down this mystery road I go!
Never take mystery roads. If I ever have to choose between having a pity partying or manning up and driving off like a fool, I should choose to whine like a girl for a bit... Because, not even fifteen minutes later, my engine has overheated and is smoking like crazy.
Just calm down, I've decided to stick with manning up and I should look for help... And maybe get out of the smoking car, that would also be a good idea.
It's pouring out now (not being whiny, just being illustrative) and I can barely make it to a nearby house before I'm soaked to the bone. Taking the steps by twos, I made it to a battered front door, not in shambles, just neglected.
"Hello, anybody home," I rapped on the wood, its thick wood vibrating under my strikes. "Hello?" As I went to inquire once again about someone being home, a roll of thunder boomed over my voice and causing me to (in a manly manner) jump. I had at least enough manners to proclaim, "SORRY FOR THE INTRUSION," before I flung the door open and bolted in.
Great, I had only spent two full days in this country and I was already breaking and entering... Actually the door was unlocked so it was only entering. Placing my sopping shoes next to the door, I raked my fingers through my soaked hair. I would at least try not to track any water around, I'm sure the owners would understand why I ran in... Though these are American's I'm talking about, I should've grabbed some food as a peace offering. Oh well, in the mean time I should try to figure out where I am.
A kitchen. A little dusty and empty looking, too. It looks like no one has been in here for a while, otherwise I have been completely wrong about the eating habits of this country.
"Hello," Goddammit, does my voice really have to quiver like that? I blame the cold water still hanging to my clothes.
No one responded, so I thought it best to explore. I casually walked the floor, it being tiny made for an easy exploration. A bathroom, living room, kitchenette, and a small room. It seemed to be a starter home, very much like the one I was in. Perhaps this was rented out during the vacation months. Yes, that would seem logical. So it wouldn't be that terrible if I stayed the night, I had no one waiting up for me. And this bed was comfortable enough, a leather bomber jacket was carelessly thrown across it. Someone must have left here during their stay. And though it wasn't my usual attire, it was dry.
Slipping it on, I found that I liked it even more. It was like an embrace from an old friend, the worn insulated lining smelled like upturned earth after it rained... And maybe a dash of coffee. But I found myself inhaling deeply once more before lying out on the bed, staring at the blue ceiling. I should send a text to Francis, he'll come pick me up tomorrow and I can get that piece of shit car to the auto shop. But for now, this bed seems to be doing wonders for my mood. All I need is a nice nap.
"Whoa, dude what're you doing on my bed?"
With a less than manly scream, I jumped up from the bed. In the doorway stood a fresh faced youth, his golden locks hanging around his face. He seemed to not care that he was sopping wet, an amused gaze fixated my, probably red, face.
"I'm so very sorry," I managed to blurt out with very little stuttering. "I thought that no one was here!"
The blond ran a hand through his bangs, water dropping down to the floorboards. "Yeah, I went out in the rain to cool off... I must've missed ya." He looked me from head to toe. "And it looks to me like you need somewhere to stay tonight."
Well, this idiot didn't seem like too bad of a guy... And well he was one of those people so there wasn't much harm he could do to me.
I shifted uncomfortably under his blue eyes, "I-If it's not too much trouble," great I sounded like a pansy.
A booming laugh shook through the house, "Of course, dude! Why kinda person do you think I am?" He grinned a shoved a calloused hand in my face, I took it hesitantly. "Nice to meet cha, name is Alfred F. Jones!"
"Arthur," I released his unnaturally warm grip.
"Cool, ya don't mind me callin' ya Artie, do ya?" Where did this random southern accent come from!? He still continued to smile as if he just won the lottery. "Artie~" he sang childishly.
Of course I don't want him to call me the name! I just gave him my name, he should address as me such! And I opened my mouth to tell as much, but once again he looked me up and down.
"I like your jacket," he remarked with a smirk, the southern drawl gone.
"Well I-," I flushed, I had completely forgotten about that blasted jacket. And though I did not want to lose the only article of dry clothing I had, it was rude of me to use another man's clothes. A began to shake the jacket off, "I'm sorry, it slipped my mind."
"No, you keep it. It suits you more," he grinned and I found it impossible to make eye contact. He turned on his heels before he added in a mischievous voice, "Artie~"
Smart Ass.
Well I wasn't expecting to be conversing with you so soon, I swear it's been nearly four hours and rain still hasn't let up in the slightest. I have school tomorrow and I still have no clue how to get home. Much to my joy my phone would normally get reception here, but the storm seems to be having other plans.
Though this series of unfortunate happenings isn't why I am currently marking up your blank pages... The origin of my musings is none other than Alfred F. Jones.
He truly is a strange one, first of all his utterly clueless to his predicament... Though I hate to admit it, but he is a fairly attractive lad. He also can't sit still for the life of him... Er, scratch that.
Anyways, he often just gets up and dashes off to do some harebrained activity that usually ends in him getting frustrated. Just a moment ago he tried to see if he could lap around the room on his hands, that ended with a damaged couch and a pouting American. And now he is trying to see if he can backflip off the couch... Which is why I have a moment to document this all down.
When he isn't trying to break the furniture, he is talking up a storm. He is quite a vocal one, complaining about the heat, trying to figure out why I try to avoid him, complaining that his brother isn't visiting him... Very vocal indeed.
And even though I know befriending him won't do me much good, there is a certain irresistible quality about him. I bet he was the kind of guy everyone wanted to be friends with and-
What the hell?
A warm body rolled over top of me, blue eyes incredibly close to my face and hot breath on my neck.
Blinking once, and then twice just to make sure what I was seeing was the absolute truth, I stared up in shock at the idiot pinning me down. I had been laying on my stomach, writing, and Alfred had managed to somehow collide into me and flip us both in a very compromising position.
"Oh shit! He sat up, my legs still pinned but at least I could prop my arms under me and glare up at the idiot. "Are you okay?! I swear I didn't mean for that to happen! I-I-"
I decided to cut the boy some slack, "My legs."
"What?" Oh he wasn't the brightest one.
I gave a smirk and shifted my legs which were still under his body.
He blushed for the first time, "Oh." He scrambled up and gave me a hand. I grasped it and he pulled me up rather forcefully. The force caused me to stumble into him, his arms automatically caught me before I could fall.
Against my better judgement, I found that I didn't dislike this very intimate embrace with an almost complete stranger. My arms were in front of me, the only thing keeping me from being fully against Alfred. Alfred was staring down at me, a crooked smile and glasses lopsided. Finally common sense returned to my brain and I loudly coughed.
His blue eyes snapped back to reality, releasing me, he sheepishly scratched his cheek, "Sorry..," that small hint of his cowboy accent was back. He looked away, suddenly very focused on his feet.
I do have to say that it was odd, in the past three hours Alfred had only stopped to take breaths very rarely, so this silence was off putting. And I was slowly finding myself getting attached to him, not just pitying him for being all alone. "It's a good way to break the ice. Nearly crushing someone to death, I mean."
His oceanic eyes flitted up to look at me, his clueless smile slowly returning. "Really? I've been trying to get you to talk all night! So you're going to loosen up now? You British dudes always confuse me!"
I tried to ignore the insult and gave him a small smile, of course it was my flimsy upturned smile. Compared to his beaming toothy grin it was merely a grimace. How ironic I was befriending someone who could smile like he did.
Before I did anything else, I sent Francis a text.
Hey, I know it's late, but when you wake up I need you to come pick me up. My fucking car broke down, but I found a place to stay for the night. I'll give you a ring if I need to be picked up earlier. Here's the address...
I looked up, Alfred's eyes, now the color of a calm sea, watching me patiently.
"You can talk my ear off if you would like," I groaned, a toothy smile appearing on his face. Tonight was going to be really long.
"And he won't even talk to me! I'm still living here and Mattie is renting the place out, what kind of brother does something like that!?"
For the past hours Alfred and I had been talking about everything under the sun. And that was a fitting term as it was slowly approaching early morning. Four of five o'clock if I was correct. The rain had ceased, but I hadn't found the will to tear myself from the conversation. For the most part I listened to Alfred, but oddly enough he managed to get a few personal pieces of information out of me.
I had ranted about having to move the week prior, my parents all but kicking me out of the house. And he truly seemed concerned as I told him about my abusive siblings, except for my youngest brother (I clenched my teeth, hoping he wouldn't ask about him). And of course I ranted about Francis and my idiotic college. But then that cursed question left Alfred's perfect (shit! why did I think that) lips.
"So dude, you said you have a younger bro?" He smiled cheekily at me, but currently my heart was dropping to the bottom of my stomach. "So how old is he? Is he still in England with your mom?" He leaned forward, truly interested.
"Had a younger brother..." I trailed off and looked away. "He... He died a few years back," bile rose from my throat, my eyes misting over.
I heard Alfred's in take of air, the gasp the only thing audible in the otherwise silent house.
"Oh my God," his voice was somber. He sat up, his hands fluttering over me. "I-I had no clue, Arthur..." A gentle hand placed itself on my shoulder. It was radiating warmth.
A pushed it off, trying fake my best smile. "It's quite alright." No it's not, not at all... I can't do this again. Never again! "I think I should get my things and take my leave."
Suddenly to very strong arms pulled me into an embrace, my face buried into a broad chest. Warmth surrounded me, pulling me into a safe aura. I hadn't felt this feeling, whatever it was, in a long while. Every portion of my brain screamed to push myself away, but I found myself leaning into it. I could smell that odd woodsy smell, without conscent from my brain I inhaled deeply.
"Arthur, I'm so sorry. I-I've been complaining about Mattie this entire time a-and you... God I'm an idiot, aren't I?" His tight grip on me loosened enough so I could look at him.
"Of course you are," I smiled, a true smile I might add, and I fondly rubbed the top of his head. "But for a completely different reason. You're the first person to treat me normally in a long time, it was quite refreshing."
He smirked, releasing me from his grip. Loose locks of his hair fell around his face, it took every bone of determination in my body not to brush them away from those wonderful blue eyes.
"I dunno why anyone would treat you differently, Artie," he continued to smile. "You're a really good listener!"
I snorted partially at the stupid nickname, partially at his idiotic notion. "Well when you were in a mental hospital and on top of all of that, gay, people tend to treat you differently," I spat it out a little too maliciously.
Alfred's eyes widen, the blue orbs intensifying. His mouth opened as if to say something, but then quickly closed. He reminded of me a fish flailing out of water, dying if he didn't get back... However that might entirely be a good metaphor.
Oh God, I really did it now. The one and only person who treated me like a normal person, I ruined him. But I like peace and quiet, remember? An annoying blonde teen would just irate me... But why were my eyes getting dewy once more?
I quickly stood to leave, Francis should be up by now. He was always an early riser, surely I would be able to give him a ring. Then this misadventure of mine would fade away in my mind... Of course I was lying to myself. Those oceanic eyes, sandy blonde mop of hair with the random gravity defying curl... They would haunt my dreams. Their owner, merely a high school aged boy who had managed to prove everything I thought about myself wrong, he would surely be stuck in my mind.
I quickly brushed by Alfred, who was still trying to process through his thoughts. Before I could make it to the door, his strong grip snagged my wrist.
I still faced away from him, but I could imagine his sad expression, like a child who just lost his favorite toy. The word was barely breathed, but it sounded as loud as a freight train, "Arthur." I was really starting to hate my full name since he seemed to only use it when something serious happened between us.
I tugged at my wrist feebly, too scared of rejection to do much else. However Alfred's fingers still held me securely.
"Arthur." This time he managed to say my name more forcefully.
"What do you need, I need to return home," I hated the unintended poison that laced my words.
Suddenly the fingers broke away, and I held back a sob. So he finally gave up? Perfect, my heart clenched as I tried to step away from the American. Before my foot could even leave the floor Alfred had me in another embrace, this time from behind.
"What are you doing, you git?" In truth, I could have easily have broken from his loose grip, but we both knew I wasn't going anywhere.
"Arthur," his voice rumbled, close enough to my ear to send a shiver down my spine. That idiot! This was way too intimate of an embrace for people who hadn't even known each other for a day. The he said three words that I hadn't heard in a long long time. "I don't care."
Those three simple words caused me to rip out of his grip and spin around. With my brow furrowed, I glared up at him. "What," I demanded.
He grinned that impossible grin. "I don't care. I don't care about your past because I believe in the person standing right in front of me. And he seems to be a super awesome dude, even if he doesn't talk that much. I used to be a huge douche in middle school and at first no one would give me the time of day when I tried to apologize. But a few people believed in the person I had become, not who I was, and now I want to be a hero that everyone can rely on."
I continued to frown, trying to weigh my situation. Of all the people who could have treated me like an actual person, it had to be him. I couldn't do it again, it would be like my brother all over again.
Alfred pouted, apparently he wanted me to be jumping for joy at his little speech. Then I saw bright red coloring sneak into his cheeks. "And... Well..." He scratched one of his cheeks apprehensively.
His current state had my absolute attention, forgetting my pessimistic thoughts. "Go on," I tried to be as encouraging as possible.
His eyes shifted to mine then away. "Heh, well... Just so ya know," his voice seemed to slip into a slight southern drawl when he was nervous (which I did not find endearing at all!). "I'm bi so... Ya never have ta be worried about that around me..." He looked down to his feet, a sight I knew all too well. Then a thought crossed his mind, he looked up with an angry glimmer in his eyes, "But don't ever say my brother is more attractive, ya hear me?"
I don't know if it was lack of sleep or that adorable angry cowboy voice that sent my over the edge. "Pffffft," my lips could no longer concealed the laughter that erupted from my chest. I felt much lighter then I had in a while. I snorted a few times, causing my nose to crinkle and my abdominal muscles to hurt. I swiped a hand to wipe away the tears forming, not from emotional turmoil like usual, but from an unnatural giddiness.
"Thank you, poppet," I said once oxygen returned to my lungs. "I haven't had this fine of a time in quiet a long time." My cheeks tingled, I probably had a horrible rosy hue to them.
Alfred stared at me, eyes wide as if he had saw a ghost... Er, what was he looking at anyways. "Dude..." I suddenly felt hesitant. "Artie..." He broke out into a luminescent smile, one I hadn't seen before, and he had been smiling quite often this night. "Arthur! You need to smile like that all the time!" He gripped my shoulders, "You have like a totally awesome smile, like the most awesomest one I've ever seen!"
My mouth defaulted back to its original thin line. He had to be toying with me, "Don't kid with me."
Alfred also mirrored my image and frowned. "Dude, get over yourself and smile~" His smile returned as he took his fingers and stretched the corners of my mouth upwards.
"Shtop dat," I said while he continued to play with my face. I gave my usual flimflam smile.
"Nope, you gotta give a real smile again, not that fake, weird one. It's creepy, you're never gonna make friends like that." Why did I end befriending this buffoon? "All you got to do is smile, bushy brows," oh now he had crossed the line. I swatted his hand away and flipped him over the back of the couch.
While he was surprised by my full strength, I grabbed a throw pillow and forcefully whapped it onto his face. I hope it didn't smother him too much.
"Bwhahahahaha," an annoying laugh was barely muffled by the decorative plush. Scratch that, I hope the pillow crushes him.
"Iggy," oh good, another pet name (sarcasm intended), "You're totally somethin' else, ya know that?" He pushed the pillow to the floor and propped his elbows under him.
I looked down at him and smirked, "I know."
Alfred's smile stretched even farther, "There that smile is!" He seemed to say something else, but a loud doorbell rang.
"Arthur, are you here," a French accent came from the front of the house.
"Oh my ride is here," I played with my bangs, pulling them over my eyes so Alfred wouldn't notice the disappointed look I was giving. I walked over to my shoes, they were in front of the door. A silhouette of a tall man with wavy curls could be seen through the frosted glass.
Footsteps thumped behind, alerting me to the fact that Alfred was currently standing right behind me.
Well, better get this over sooner than later. "Thank you for letting me stay overnight," I turned to face the sun kissed American one last time, careful not to look him directly in the eye. "And I am very thankful for being able to get to know you." I braved one look into those childish blue eyes. I thrusted a palm forward, hoping he would shake it and we could go our separate ways.
"Artie," he looked like I had just kicked a puppy and set it on fire in front of him. "Don't act like we're saying goodbye... We just met a-and you should visit and stuff."
"I've got school and you-," well I couldn't say his real predicament, "You've got your brother to handle." I tried to move my hand closer.
He shoved it away, looked me over like he had when we first met, gave me a peck on the forehead, and then pushed me out the front door. Before I could register his movements, he stepped back into the house and clicked the lock of the door tight.
I gave a bewildered look to an equally bewildered Francis who I had bumped into when Alfred kicked me out. My heart hurt, while I put a hand to my forehead, it burned where his lips had quickly brushed.
Francis coughed uncomfortably. "Arthur, what are you wearing?"
I looked down, realizing that Alfred's jacket was still snugly wrapped around me. "Shit!" I banged on the locked door. "Alfred, I still have your bloody jacket, let me in!"
Silence.
"Alfred," I shouted louder. "Open the damn door!"
"Oh no," Alfred's voice sounded distant, but over dramatic like always. "My favorite jacket, what ever shall I do without it?!" I could imagine him throwing himself over the couch like the drama king he was. "This is the worst thing that could ever happen to me! I love that jacket more than my own son!"
"You don't have any fucking children Alfred!" Francis looked bemused and slightly confused. Alfred was acting very much like the frog at the moment. "I'm leaving it on the front porch," I yelled.
He paused, probably thinking about what he could do next. "I hope Artie didn't leave it on the porch! It'll get sooo wet! If he is a proper English gentleman like he told me, then he'll get my baby dry cleaned first!"
He had to pull the gentleman card, the bloody fucking genius! I had told all about my gentleman complex and now he was using it to his advantage.
"Fine!" I stomped down the stone stairs, pulling a confused Frenchie behind me. However a smile played across my face. I jumped into Francis' car, he ambled into the driver seat.
"So what's going on with your face?" That stupid frog!
My smile was quickly replaced by a frown. "Nothing," I growled. We sat in uncomfortable silence. If it had been anyone else besides that stupid American, Francis would've been going on about l'amour and all that shit.
"What about your car," he finally spoke up.
"I suppose I'll have it towed when I come back with that blasted jacket." I smirked. "Plus who would steal that hunk of metal."
He coughed and nonchalantly asked, "And who were you talking to?" He turned the key and the ignition roared to life.
I watched the quaint house blur away as the car moved down the street. "Alfred," I tried to answer just as nonchalantly.
The car came to a stop, the four way stop was empty and allowed Francis to glare at me. "I love a tragic romance as much as the next person, but you can't put yourself through this again. You remember how hard it was to say goodbye to Peter."
I glared at him, looking into his sky blue eyes, wishing there was another pair in its place. "You don't have to remind me."
Francis sighed and flipped a hand through his long locks. "I won't push you, but please be careful mon'ami." The car began to move once more, Francis turned the radio on. Some sappy ballad filled the silence.
I grumbled under my breath and turned into Alfred's jacket, my sleepless night finally catching up to me.
It has been only two days since I encountered Alfred F. Jones. I know that he should be fading from my mind, but the urge to see him is just getting stronger... How cliché of me. However, I still have to return his sodding jacket which I may or may not have been wearing this entire time... Shut up, okay?
Though I have decided to help the chap, save him from his loneliness... And of course to spend more time with him. Against better judgment, I have am not only going to help him, but befriend him. Now I know what you're thinking, "Arthur, don't do it! It will just hurt you in long run and cause you to be even more depressed and shit!" Trust me that's what I've been trying to tell myself. However since I 'hung out', as Alfred said, I haven't felt as cynical or depressed. This seems like a rather unusual way to move on with my life.
Also... Alfred is one of a kind, the kind that even though I know I might get hurt... He's worth it. Seriously, I've known the bloke for a day and I am already attached. So I have a half-concocted plan that may be able to help the both of us!
Well, I need to go back to there now
Arthur
Feeling like my entry was satisfactory, I stood to leave the school library. I had taken a sick day after my all-nighter with Alfred (no sense in missing sleep when I usually teach myself anyway) homework wasn't too difficult to catch up on, but I had spent quite a while in the library. However that wasn't unusual for me. The towering bookshelves seemed to seclude me from the rest of the world. No problems, no worries, no cares. I could study or get lost in a world of white pages and black ink. This was my sanctuary. Yet the prospect of seeing one certain American had managed to have me leaving, and that is something that never happens. Usually I'm here until they close for the night, the librarians even left my corner alone. So the fact that I was leaving had their jaws dropping. I tried not to snigger as I walked by them.
Pushing pass lingering classmates, I made my way to my recently fixed car (Francis may not be a TOTAL frog, but I would never say that to his face). It sputtered to life, reminding me that the quick fix was not permanent... Shit, I don't have that kind of money, I swear I have put more money into this car than what it was worth!
Alfred's small house appeared, pulling me out of my money woes. It turned out that my school was actually closer to Alfred's little complex than it was to mine... Lucky bastard, gas is expensive here! Ehem, lest I get on my money problem again, maybe I should continue onto my current objective. I drove by the house and up to the large house residing a ways behind it.
Now before my parents had so graciously "asked" me to leave, they had promised to fund my education. Then they found out that I had aced all my tests, made it into the school of my dreams, and had a full ride, they opted to paying for my boarding. I could live wherever I desired, within reason of course. This kept my parents from feeling too guilty about abandoning me.
I pulled to a stop in front of a grand house, WILLIAMS was printed boldly next to the door. Well, it was now or never. I brought myself to knock against the solid wooden door, my knuckles stung as I knocked a bit too excitedly. I waited a moment, no one came to the door. I knocked once more... Still no one. Then I resorted to banging the door, aiming to break it down. AND STILL NO ONE FUCKING ANSWERED THE DOOR! As I brought my fist up to knock once more a meek man peered from the side, cowering from my fist.
"Oh, hello." He finally decided to show up! "I couldn't seem to get your attention," I tried to keep too much venom from entering my voice.
"Uh, I've been here the entire time... Uh I-I'm Matthew Williams." God, this boy seemed invisible compared to his brother. His violet eyes shot up to me. "May I ask why you are here?"
"Oh, sorry. Where are my manners." I outstretched his hand, thankfully he (unlike his brother) understood the concept and shook my hand. "My name is Arthur Kirkland. I would like to know if that house is still up for rent?" I tried my best to give a warm smile.
Matthew released my grip and his lit up. "Of course, come in!" Rather forcefully, apparently he and his brother shared their strength, he pulled me into his house.
I stepped into a grand room, tiled floor met high arched walls and a white crested ceiling. It was like I had stepped into a palace. Every piece of furniture was pristine and spotless, at the head of the room was a massive fire place. A family portrait hung over it, three people looming in the painting. A blonde man and women, and of course Matthew, around his early twenties. They all wore somber expressions, Matthew's pale eyes didn't even seem to be focused.
"Lovely home," I whispered, feeling that if I spoke too loud the palace-like atmosphere would disappear.
"Ah, thank you," Matthew was currently buried in a secretary desk. "Where are those blasted papers..." A faint beeping echoed. "Oh hockey pucks! Um, I need to get the oven. Be right back!" Matthew disappeared, not really an astounding feat for the man. I was left to wander aimlessly around living room. At one point I had thought of sitting down, but then I discovered some gigantic white creature had made its home there. It raised two beady black eyes and glared at me, and I knew better than to mess with that behemoth of a dog... Or a bear, I'm not really sure...
"Oh, Arthur. You can come join me in here," Matthew's voice once again resounded through the house.
"Alright," I responded, still not breaking eye contact with the white giant. "Be right there." I backed away slowly, trying not to startle it. Then, not fleeing, but retreating (because that sounds less girlish) I made my way to the kitchen.
Now the kitchen and the grand room were night and day. The room I had just been in was empty and dark, clean and nothing out of place. The kitchen, just as big, was the complete opposite. I could tell this was were Matthew felt more at home The kitchen was filled with pans and batters while family pictures littered the walls in no distinguishable pattern. Certain pictures had expensive oak frames while others were cheap store bought plastic cases. A recent picture of a smiling silver haired man and Matthew caught my eye, he did indeed look very happy. Good for him.
"That's Gilbert. He's an odd guy, but he's mine..." Matthew quickly covered his mouth, not realizing what precious information had just slipped.
"It's alright," I tried to play it suave, but my eyes caught hold of a faded picture. A mother embracing a set of twins, both children were wrapped up tight in scarves and hats, only violet and aqua eyes were visible. I could almost hear the laughter of children as they played in the snow, the kind scolding of an overprotective mother as the father tried to capture the memory. He had been successful. That moment was forever suspended, never aging or fading.
"Ah, that's... That's my brother, Alfred. Um, I'm almost done, then I can go find those forms." He didn't voice anymore on that topic, and I didn't push. I hesitantly turned to watch the blonde, he seemed to making pancakes. It seemed odd, especially given the time of day. Though, he was bound to have a few quirks if he was related to Alfred. Actually he seemed very normal, perhaps I had the wrong twin?
"Oh," Matthew's face lit up. "I forgot! I put those forms in that closet right behind you!" He pointed a wooden spoon to the door behind me, "If you want to you can fill out those forms right now!"
I opened said closet, but before I could start to look for them a large net fell over. As I (gracefully) landed on my rump, the net and a few hockey sticks clattered to the floor. Who keeps hockey equipment in a kitchen pantry?!
"Oh my goodness!" Matthew rushed over and helped me up. "Sorry aboot that, I forgot those were in there!"
In my bewildered state, I forgot to screen my words before they left my mouth. "So you really are related to Alfred? I was worried, I thought there was no way you two could be related!"
His violet eyes widened. "Y-You knew Alfred?"
"Er, I guess you could say that. We didn't spend a lot of time together." I rubbed my neck sheepishly, probably a habit I had picked up from Alfred. I looked into closet and saw the pesky papers shoved under a hockey puck. It seems Matthew and Alfred shared their messy tendencies. "Ah, but he's a good kid."
Matthew's eyes softened, "I'll go get you a pen." He scurried away, leaving me all alone.
Hello once again.
I thought I would give you a quick update, I'm afraid my entry will be rather short this time around.
Why?
Because I am sitting in my car, parked in a certain blonde's driveway. If you guessed Alfred's driveway, then you are only half correct.
Starting today I am renting out this house. Today is the day I start sharing a house with Alfred.
Wish me luck,
Arthur.
Please review :D