Also posted in my LJ, xparallelhearts. This one's set in an AU, obviously, and was very heavily influenced by Liete's 'Love Will Find A Way' series, but it's not quite the same, if only because there's like, one or two differences here and there. (L-Lol, and obviously this is too crappy to compare to her genius. ;_;)
Disclaimer: I don't own APH.
He's absolutely terrified, frightened and daunted and just plain scared. He knows that there's nothing to be afraid of, that Alfred would catch him should he fall, but that doesn't chase away the fear.
He knows that he's being stupid and irrational, that there's only one thing - one phrase, two breaths, three words - to say in order to achieve what he's been yearning for years now. He knows, but he can't act; he feels, but he can't express.
It's utterly frustrating, and seeing the bit of pain that always shines in those beautiful blue eyes, those breathtaking orbs that capture the azure hues of the vast American skies, never fail to wring his heart. He feels stupid and incompetent, and the unwelcome thought of Alfred in the arms of another - offering that smile, that laugh, that light - worms its way into his head again. It angers him, much more than it should, given what he could do and what he was refusing to do, and his inability just makes his mood worse.
He curses and drinks and yells and destroys, but nothing works. The burning anger, the choking frustration, the breathtaking love - all of it remains, intertwining and mixing in a way that they shouldn't. He tries to stop himself, tries to keep his distance and save the one he loves so painfully much, but he learns that he can't live without Alfred. He can't live without his sun, his light.
He's no longer desensitized to the pain of being alone, of knowing that he was born into this world by accident and that his birth had broken apart a family that had once been happy and content. Darkness scares him, now, and he finds himself blindly groping for the sun even with the calming glow of the moon hovering beside him. It's not the same, he doesn't want it to be the same, and so he searches, clinging and hurting and destroying as he tries to keep the light that he dims with his own hands.
Every bruise left on Alfred's skin is a blow to his mangled heart, and every laceration on the previously unmarred skin is just another spike through his chest. He knows that he should leave now, that he should turn around and run away and let the sun share its radiance and warmth with those who deserve it. He was born into this world unloved, and is fated to leave it unloved; he didn't deserve Alfred's affections for even the briefest moments, even if they were bound to recede in the future anyway.
But every time he tries to pull away, those hands, so warm and comforting and forgiving, always pull him back. His hair is petted and his lips are kissed, his cheeks are caressed and his hands held, all while a voice too gentle and loving to be a part of his life whispers, "It's okay, Arthur; it's okay. I'm sorry. I love you."
And just like that, he's back, once more staring up at the grand, unfaltering wall called fear.
He's absolutely terrified, frightened and daunted and just plain scared. He knows that there's nothing to be afraid of, that Alfred would catch him should he fall, but that doesn't chase away the fear. Because he knows, oh, he knows, that should he take a step forward and accept that he was in love and was being loved in return, everything will crumble beneath his fingers until they are nothing but dust. Warm smiles and inviting hands will turn into cold eyes and bloody fists, and gentle 'I love you's will turn into merciless 'Get out of my sight's.
He can't take that - not again. So he continues trying to escape, continues trying to soak up the pain and trying to get used to it, but every time, those beautiful blue eyes pull him back, and he finds himself in square one again - frustrated, angry, and unmistakably, undeniably, unbelievably in love.