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With just a book tucked under his arm and the weight of his backpack on his back, Matthew ran. He ran because he was late. Matthew was always late. What would Alfred think? Matthew had promised Al that he would be there on time for once. And now he was extremely late. He could only hope that Alfred hadn't left by now. Alfred wouldn't leave Matthew alone, right? Yeah, Alfred had promised Matthew that he'd wait. The last time Matthew had seen Alfred, he had promised he would wait for him by the swings.

And soon Matthew had arrived at that ever so familiar swing set, feelings of nostalgia welling up inside him. He quickly scanned the park, but was unable to spot Alfred. Did Alfred leave already? No, Alfred said he would wait, and Matthew believed him. Alfred would probably arrive late, so it would probably better if Matthew just sat on the swings and waited.

As Matthew waited, he thought about what he would say to Alfred. He was so nervous and had no idea what to say to Alfred, but it was always this way. Some how, Matthew would find a way to pull through. He always did.

He looked to his left, to the empty swing beside him. He could practically imagine Alfred sitting there, smiling.

Because Alfred was always smiling.

When Alfred was forced to leave, Matthew tried to turn his back on him. Matthew knew it wasn't Alfred's fault, and that Alfred wanted to stay. But Matthew couldn't help but hate Alfred. Hate him for leaving. But Matthew shouldn't have hated Alfred, because it wasn't Alfred's fault he had to go. Never the less, Matthew stopped coming to the swings for a while. But eventually the amount of guilt welling up in his stomach had been too much. Alfred had probably been waiting for Matthew all those times he never arrived.

Maybe this was justification. Maybe Alfred didn't show up because this is what Matthew deserved, for turning his back on Alfred and walking away. For walking away and trying so hard to not look back. But Matthew looked back. And he came back.

And Matthew was sure Alfred understood that. And that was why he was sure Alfred would forgive him. He was sure that Alfred would be here soon. Alfred had a habit of popping up unannounced. He always had to make a dramatic entrance.

The sun was now creeping above the horizon, and Matthew realized that Alfred wasn't coming at all. Matthew felt offended that he was stood up. Then again, it was unlike Alfred to not show up without saying anything. Alfred was probably busy. But what would Alfred be doing right now? Alfred had promised Matthew that he would wait by the swings.

With a sigh, Matthew slid off the swing and made his way to the church. Alfred was always at the church. He hoped Alfred wasn't avoiding him, and he prayed to god that Alfred didn't hate him. Matthew arrived at the church and searched for the familiar blonde hair and blue eyes that belonged to Alfred. But Alfred wasn't there.

Of course, Matthew should have known Alfred wouldn't be here. There were people here, and whenever Alfred wanted to pray, he would do it some place quiet, some place secluded.

Matthew made his way around the church and back to the cemetery, looking above the tombstones for that familiar face of Alfred's. And then he found him. A small smile escaped his lips, as he treaded over to where Alfred was and silently apologized to all of the dead people he walked over. With a thud, his back pack landed on the ground, and soon after Matthew was sitting beside it, legs crossed and leaning back on his hands.

"It's okay to cry Al. It's perfectly okay to cry; even the manliest of men cry. So don't hold it in."

Alfred said nothing, but it was always this way. Matthew would always find Alfred at the cemetery, but there would be no actual conversation between them. Usually it was just Matthew rambling on and on and then leaving to give Alfred some peace. Matthew couldn't remember when Alfred had changed from his boisterous and loud self to such a quiet, and silent person.

Maybe it was death. Death always had a way of changing people. And maybe Alfred just couldn't cope with death.

Then Matthew remembered something. Something that would definitely make Alfred smile. He dug deep into his back pack and pulled out the single sunflower he had been carrying. It had become a bit crushed, but it was still something.

"Ivan couldn't come, but he gave me this."

Matthew placed the sunflower on the ground, in front of the tomb stone that read;

Amelia Jones
Wonderful Wife
Loving Mother

"There," Matthew stated, as he tried to lean the sunflower against the tombstone. "I'm sure your mother would have loved it."

Matthew couldn't see Alfred's face, but he was sure he was smiling. Smiling through his tears.

Matthew sat closer to Alfred, and leaned his head against Mrs. Jones' tombstone.

"I guess it'll be just me again doing all the talking today."

Alfred still didn't respond, but that was okay, Matthew was used to it by now.

"Now, where should I begin?" Matthew scratched at his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. "Oh yeah. Ivan said that you read my journal. I really wanted you to read it. Even though I said some really harsh things about you, I really wanted you to know, just in case I never got to tell you myself, how much I loved you." Matthew chuckled to himself. "But now I practically tell you how much I love you every day, so I guess you didn't have to read it. I bet you made fun of me for naming it Kumajirou, though."

Matthew then searched through his bag and pulled out his sketch book. "See?" he said, raising it high above his head. "Remember how you asked me to draw a comic of my journey across Europe? Well it's done now. I wanted to give it to you for your birthday, but I couldn't wait." Matthew tossed the sketchbook on the ground, in front of Alfred, but Alfred didn't bother picking it up. He just left it there. But Matthew was sure that as soon as he left, Alfred would start reading it. The last time Matthew talked to Alfred on the phone, Alfred had been begging him to show him the comic.

Then Matthew picked up the book that he had carried all the way here, and turned the cover towards Alfred.

"Look. Arthur even wrote a book about us. It's called-" Matthew flipped the book over quickly to glance at the title. "-Happenstance. I love the ending. The way he wrote our reunion was flawless. I'll read it to you the next time I see you."

Matthew quickly glanced at his watch, and gasped. He was going to be late. Sofia would probably forgive him, but Gilbert would be giving him hell. He quickly packed his belongings but left the sketchbook on the ground. When he stood, he turned back to face towards Alfred.

"I really have to go now Al. But tomorrow, I'll be waiting at the swings, so you better be there, okay? Don't stand me up again!" Matthew's voice began to waver as he continued. "I mean, I'm sure your mom would want you to be happy, right? She wouldn't mind if her son was gay, she would love him no matter what. She would want you to be happy. So we'll be together okay? Not right now though. I can't just leave Gilbert and Arthur by themselves. But soon we'll be together! And you promised you would wait for me at the swings!"

And after a small wave, Matthew hastily walked away from the tombstone with the name Alfred F. Jones engraved on it.

A/N:

Have a nice day everyone!