Alfred sighed as he glanced solemnly out the window, the scene outside was of powdery snow drifting from the heavens and painting the ground pure white. The bare branches of the leafless trees were brimmed with snowflakes and a pale blanket of snow covered all of the roof tops of the neighboring houses. It would've been a beautiful sight for anyone who bothered to stop and look at it. Not Alfred, though. He blinked wearily at the scenery outside; his fingers were tapping apprehensively on the window pane.
Alfred was never very fond of winter; he couldn't cope with how cold it was. It also made him feel lonely, unwanted…unloved. Every time a wintry breeze ruffled his dark blonde hair, every single time he felt the snow melt against his skin, this feeling of yearning would well up inside of him…But for what exactly? He would always search for it in his thoughts, but it would only reveal itself as a disfigured silhouette, Alfred knew it was there, yet he couldn't figure out what it was supposed to be, let alone reach out for it. But maybe he was looking in the wrong place all along. If the answer wasn't in his thoughts, maybe it was in his memories…?
It was a long time ago…a little over 200 years. Alfred woke up to something just like this; the world just outside the window was pure white and only the dark branches of the trees peeked out from under the massive layer of snow. This younger Alfred had never seen or known anything about snow before, but he's curious. The first and only thing that crossed his mind when he sees this is: "It looks fluffy."
Alfred blinked the sleep out of his sky blue eyes, and jumped out of his bed, not bothering to put on some extra clothes, since he's not aware of how cold it's going to be. He raced down the hall, making sure his footsteps were soft, being careful not to wake anyone (Arthur) up. He reached up for the brass door knob and flung the door open, seeing nothing but white, which just made him more excited. But then, when he raced out the door, the cold hit him and he fell down face first into the snow. It was anything but fluffy, he realized.
When he came to his senses and opened his eyes, everything was blurry. He shivered and felt tears rolling incessantly down his cheeks. His hands and face, he noticed, had gone completely numb, his hair stuck uncomfortably against his cheeks and his clothes were all wet. Alfred sat up straight in the snow, trying to get up, but failing to do so each time. He started wailing loudly when he finally gave up, sitting dejectedly in the snow.
"Alfred? Alfred?" the familiar voice was coming from inside the house, gradually getting closer. Alfred automatically stopped crying and tried standing up again. He didn't want Arthur seeing him this way.
"Alfred! What in the world happened to you?" He could hear the snow crunching under Arthur's feet. Alfred's fear of embarrassment suddenly went away, replaced with hope that his older brother would save him.
"I'm sorry," the little boy sniffed as Arthur picked him up, "I've never seen the white stuff before." When he pressed against the older nation's body, his warmth washed over him like a wave.
Arthur was using his sleeve to dry Alfred's face, which was wet with melting snow and tears. "It's okay," he murmured reassuringly, hugging him tightly before checking if his little brother was injured anywhere. Alfred felt so much safer now, in his arms.
The older brother carried him into the house and had him change out of his wet clothes. After Alfred switched into something drier, Arthur settled him into his own bed, then climbing in with him, so they would keep each other warm. Alfred snuggled against Arthur's body as the older brother tucked him tightly into the bed. Then, he took Alfred's small hands in his and rubbed them together. Even though Arthur's own hands had also gone cold, there was still an incredible amount of warmth within his touch.
"What was the white stuff? Why did it come here? Why is it cold?" the inquisitive questions came automatically after young Alfred recovered from the shock.
Arthur laughed softly, and gently put the back of his hand to Alfred's cheek. It seemed like every time Arthur touched him, he got warmer and warmer. "It's snow, and it came here because it's winter time. It's naturally cold," he explained soothingly, "Winter's a really important season."
"It is?" Alfred didn't believe him completely, still resenting this 'snow' for causing so much trouble, "How?"
"Because since it's cold, I'll have a reason to cuddle with you all the time!" Arthur joked, hugging him tighter, and Alfred's doubt suddenly melted away.
Ring Ring Ring…
"Come on…answer the phone, will you?" Alfred murmured impatiently, away from the speaker, in case Arthur really did pick up just then. He sighed and tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind his ear. Just before he decided he was going to hang up, the receiver clicked.
"What do you want?" The accented voice on the other side was irritable, as usual, of course, "Do you have any bloody idea how late it is over here?"
Alfred mechanically glanced at his clock, which read 7 o'clock. 'New York and London…Five hour time difference…it's midnight in London, stupid!' he thought grimly to himself.
"My bad," Alfred laughed nervously, trying to hide his frustration at the bad start.
"You still haven't answered my question…" Arthur mumbled dully. Alfred could hear the other nation tapping his fingers impatiently on something.
"Oh, yeah…" Alfred paused for a moment, and then said hesitantly, "Do you want to…come over?"
"Why would I do that?" Arthur's voice sounded both flustered and severe. He really couldn't figure him out at all, but it didn't matter.
"It's cold here," Alfred blurted out, without considering his words more carefully. He didn't even realize that those words fell from his lips before he could even process them through his head.
"That's not a reason…" Arthur commented drily.
"Yes it is! I need you to come and warm me up."
An awkward silence came immediately after those words escaped his lips, and all Alfred could hear was Arthur's breathing on the other side of the line. Despite the lack of words spoken between them, Alfred could tell Arthur was definitely taken aback.
"Earth to Arthur…" Alfred attempted to continue the conversation.
"You are such an idiot," was the chagrined response.
"Just because I wanted to cuddle with you? I remember you telling me that you liked winter because it gave you a reason to cuddle me all the time," Alfred said, smirking to himself, he could just see Arthur blush furiously on the other side of the Atlantic.
"That was before," Arthur said coolly, obviously trying to hide his bemusement.
"Ouch," Alfred easily feigned the hurt in his tone, "So do you wanna come over or not?"
"And 'warm you up'? I think not, that'd be stupid," Arthur scoffed.
"Stop doing that! I know you don't mean it, I know you want to," Alfred laughed, "Just come over! Pleeeeaaaaseeee?"
He heard Arthur let out a heavy sigh, "Fine, then… I was thinking about going somewhere warmer for the winter, anyway."
Alfred rolled his eyes and smirked, 'What a lie!'
"But don't you dare do anything stupid. And I am not going to warm you up."
If only the older nation could see him now, Alfred was smiling so much, his mouth was starting ache. "Whatever you say, I can't wait."
"Whatever."
And Arthur hung up.
Alfred couldn't stop smiling, even after he put his phone down. He leaned against the window and ignored how icy cold it was against his skin. He closed his eyes and sighed, "Winter is the best season after all…"