Because I'm a poop and haven't gotten the next chapter of The End of the Line out due to overwhelming lack of motivation and lack of confidence, I decided to clean up my writing with a good old 30 day challenge. Maybe I'll enjoy my work after this instead of this frustrating journey of backspace, backspace, backspace in trying to finish the next chapter of my apocalypse AU. I'm so sorry about that guys.
So OTP wise, I'm doing USUK, kinda obvious. If I'm still not happy with my work at the end of this, maybe I'll redo it with ereri or something. I wanna play with AUs as well, so the AU I'm writing in will be next to the challenge.
The introduction is a bit wordy, sorry. I love the sound of my voice (or rather the look of bolded writing).
Without further ado…
Day 1: Holding Hands (Modern Day Human AU)
Arthur was never really one for Public Displays of Affection (also known as PDA). This was a big problem as his lovely boyfriend, young Alfred, was very keen on the idea of it.
The lad was a young teenager of eighteen, fresh out of high school. He was ambitious, young, and frankly a very open and honest person. Arthur loved him very dearly, and found his honesty so naïve, yet charming. He had lovely features that matched his lovely personality: strong jawline, bright smile, hair of gold, eyes of the sky. Covering such beautiful eyes were frame-glasses that always rested just on the top of his bridge. He had a booming voice that seemed annoying at first (in Arthur's opinion) but still captivated all who would listen. His language was nowhere near the Queen's English, however Arthur loved listening to the boy ramble off about his hopes and dreams. The boy was altogether lovely.
This always made Arthur very self-conscious. After all, he wasn't much of a catch. Arthur was an old man, in Alfred's terms. He was a business man of twenty-four with choppy hair of wheat and eyes of bland green. It wasn't the special kind of green that sparkled in blues in the sun nor was it the alluring dark green. It was just normal green. It didn't really matter the color of his eyes, however, as the rather large, pronounced eyebrows took the spotlight off of them. They even distracted people from Arthur's nice strong cheekbones and rare, yet gorgeous smile. Not just looks, but even his personality couldn't shine like Alfred's. He was a cynical, sarcastic drunk who always ended up crying to poor Alfred about his childhood of horrid brothers. He was a boaster and one proud bastard. No, Arthur wasn't much of a catch.
Arthur loved to contradict this with outstanding confidence in his intellect and his fencing and soccer skills. It wasn't that Arthur was a really modest person (he really was very proud), but he knew that Alfred liking him was akin to a miracle.
His modesty when it came to the subject of Alfred, however, was what made him always pull away from Alfred whenever the lad grasped his hand. Arthur would hold it for a second or two before making a lame excuse, such as pointing at a bird or taking out a book from his briefcase to read while walking.
Alfred still tried (with such amazing persistence) to hold Arthur's hand. As months passed, Arthur began to accept Alfred sitting awfully close to him on the bus and even allowed the damn bugger to fall asleep on him on a trip home to Arthur's apartment. Alfred was a persistent kid and attempted small gestures of PDA every day. Then one day, he stopped. Arthur watched as the boy walked a step further away from Arthur than usual and seat himself an inch or two or three further away from Arthur. Not once did the boy grasp his hand or even attempt at reaching for it.
Days continued as Alfred began to distance himself from the Brit. It was driving Arthur mad. Why was this stupid Yank believing he could even dream about giving the two boyfriends distance. By week two, Arthur found himself looking longingly at Alfred. He found himself letting his hands rest in the open, not inside his pockets nor holding any books or bags. Arthur began to feel more insecure as week three came rolling around.
Alfred made no amend to the distance, but that didn't stop Alfred from meeting Arthur after work and going to his place for a cup of coffee. It was exasperating. Arthur was growing more and more anxious as the days passed by. It wasn't that Alfred was any less affectionate and he continued his playful game of how many cute nicknames were off-limits (Artie, baby, and babe were off-limits. Arthur particularly liked sweetheart). It was just that the physical contact drastically decreased. Arthur had enough by week four. It had been a month since Alfred even tried to attempt to grasp Arthur's hand.
It was one particularly cold afternoon that Arthur didn't longingly stare at Alfred's face as he usually did, but rather his hand. As Alfred pushed the button to cross the street to get to Arthur's apartment, Arthur tugged up his scarf, his cheeks burning. Nobody was paying attention to the two blondes as they crossed the street, however Arthur felt as if the world turned to look to the two of them as Arthur slid his hand into the pocket of Alfred's leather jacket. The two stepped onto the curb as Arthur's hand grasped Alfred's fisted up hand and slowly brought it out, entangling their gloved fingers together. Alfred froze still, as if the cold had turned him into an icicle. He gave Arthur a sideways glance, which wasn't returned by said man. He grumbled about it being cold and he just needed to warm up.
Alfred's face lit up like the Fourth of July was deciding to take place in the late November. Arthur took a shy glance at Alfred, but Arthur couldn't help but stare at the way the boy's features lit up.
Alfred's voice was warm, yet soft. It was unlike any Arthur had heard before.
"I thought you hated me touching you, so I stopped."
Arthur blushed, "I-I didn't mind… I just feel like… You are this bright light and I am just… Me…"
Alfred's face became serious, his hand tugged Arthur to stand in front of him and his free hand tugged Arthur's chin to look slightly up at Alfred.
"You are awesome, Artie! I love you a lot! So I just want you to know that if I'm the sun, you're a forest! Something outstanding and, well…" Alfred's face began to redden, "beautiful like that."
Snow began to fall and Alfred took the awfully clichéd opportunity to lean down and kiss Arthur in the snow. Arthur, however, turned red up to his ears, his face burning. Instantly, he pulled away, forcing Alfred to release his hand.
"J-Just… Wait until we get home, idiot."
Alfred's smile lit up the darkening sky. Their hands met again, gloved fingers once more entangling themselves in each other. Alfred began to swing the two lover's connected hands. Their arms gained momentum and they began their hurried walk to Arthur's apartment to get out of the winter storm, Arthur's complaints about the swinging arms and Alfred's laughter muffled by the large clumps of white falling to the ground.
Day one is over. I will do this every day, I swear. And sorry, I don't have a beta, so I edit it myself. If I missed any mistakes, I'm really sorry.
