Arthur couldn't remember why they were fighting. He expected Alfred, who started this stupid reason, began spewing ridiculous accusations again. From what he recalled, his boyfriend yelled something about the jam bottle had run out. Arthur, without a doubt, knew Alfred had simply finished the damn jar and couldn't find any more to withstand his pit-less stomach!

However, this was not the problem he faced: it was the fact Arthur kept hearing 'blah, blah, blah' over and over. That was it. Arthur only heard those words whenever they started a row. No matter it being the TV left on or the toilet not left un-flushed. Blah, blah, blah was all he could hear... It was tiresome. Maybe his ears only heard those words because Alfred just annoyed him so?

Right in front of him Alfred flexed his jaw, arms in the air as though trying to punch something with his fisted hands but Arthur took no heed in what he said. Then, out of nowhere, Arthur spoke up.

"You know what, git?" Arthur spat heartlessly. He didn't care about Alfred's feelings right now, so of course he was going to cry! But what was the point stopping now? Arthur's blood raced within his veins, his heart pound with rushing fury and the color of his lime green eyes sparked nastiness all over Alfred's poor innocent eyes which stared back in shock. "I am sick and bleeding tired of your stupid accusations of me! I can't stand it! How can you say all those things when it is clearly not my fault? I don't even use jam, so what is the whole point getting into this fight?

"Every time I hear you argue or yell," he continued, "I only hear these little three words. Do you know what they are? 'Blah, blah, blah'! All the time, without fail! 'Blah, blah, blah, I'm the hero. Blah, blah, blah, I can eat as much shit as I want! Blah, blah, blah, I love America' and so forth!"

He could see Alfred's horrified face, and something deep down told him to stop. But no he wouldn't. Oh, he was getting started.

"So what the fucking hell am I supposed to do with you? I have to do so much but gain so little! I made sacrifices and yet you use your ego to make everything 'okay'. But I don't care; you do what you want, because I have no intention in believing that everything is going to be okay when it's not! Oh what, are you going to cry now? Oh boohoo, the poor brat decides to cry cause he can't handle an adult telling him his faults, that it? Well let me tell you something, I am the adult of this house and since I am, you have to just get over it and admit I was not the cause for any of your bloody mistakes!

"Did I make myself clear? Or do I have to talk in your incoherent language?" Arthur sneered at that last end…and regretted what he said.

Arthur, watching his boyfriend's cheeks soak themselves with tears; his nose runny and his shoulders shaking...realized what a huge mistake he had made... Slowly, his face softened from the wretched anger to an agonized realization of terror. He made Alfred cry...all because he was tired of the arguments. Why did he let this fuming, retarded argument spew out of nowhere?

"...A-Alfred...I, I'm really-" Before he could finish, Alfred ran away upstairs, covering his face with his bomber sleeve as though he was ashamed of his teary face.

SLAM! The door upstairs echoed in Arthur's ears... It almost sounded like his heart: shattered and breaking to pieces.

It had been two days since their fight. Arthur bothered counting the minutes, the hours, and eventually the days which passed too suddenly. He felt as though the years floated away, and yet it only happened those two days ago. What was he going to do? How could he even begin to apologize? Arthur wanted nothing more than to embrace him, calm him, touch him sweetly and tenderly, and say he was—no—is so sorry about how much of an idiot he was.

The day after the fight, Alfred showed him what he could truly do. In the morning, Arthur woke up in the couch (Alfred locked the door and refused to let him in) and noticed Alfred was avoiding at all cost to stay in the same room. When he went to the kitchen, Alfred dropped whatever he was doing and left the room. No eye contact included.

On the next day, he didn't come down at all. It was worrying as Arthur knew it was a Monday and though Alfred dreaded those days he knew going to the conferences would make him feel special. But now, Alfred had no interest in the conferences and avoided everybody. Occasionally, Arthur would go upstairs and tried knocking on the door. But he either received a 'go away' or nothing but incoherent noises. Arthur made sure to slip in important papers under his door and, while sitting on the floor, contemplated what was would happen next. Alfred pushed the papers back out from the crack under the door and when Arthur retrieved them, he saw a yellow sticky note…and it broke his heart all over again.

It said: 'Work's more important than apologizing, huh?'

That note felt like a deliberate slap on the face; an invisible mark left on Arthur's cheek ached tremendously as he touched it gently. But it wasn't a physical strike; it was more like an emotional wording of karmic payback. From their fight to Alfred's isolation in the bedroom and now the silence which implanted the whole house. Arthur never understood why his acrimony blow to kingdom come so severely; he stared at the note with watery eyes during the time of his quietness until, miraculously, an idea surfaced in his head.

XxXxXxX

Alfred managed to survive with all his secret stash of junk food behind the closet for emergencies; he glanced down at the floor where scrunched up wrappers laid distorted and his heart wasn't healed. From the previous days, Alfred had nothing but misery filled within. After sending that note under the door, he sat on the floor, glaring under the door as though Arthur would do something. But hasn't… He had no idea there would be a fight but then again, he was at fault for starting it. Just yesterday when he went to the kitchen, he found a jar of jam behind the McDonald's ranch packet towers…

However, it was Arthur's blunder for arguing back. Why did he bark right at him when Alfred was upset like that? Okay, maybe it was my fault after all… Now when he thought back through what happened long ago it was rather…stupid of Alfred to make that argument… Maybe he should go out now and apologize—

Just then, beside him, he noticed a small slip of paper slither inside with Arthur's name on it. He picked it up, curious filled his blue eyes, and opened it to see what Arthur had written.

Dear Alfred,

If you are reading this and are still upset of what happened, then you have every right to be furious as I am of myself. When I think back to what my voice spewed out, I couldn't believe all the things I said and deeply regret it. I would apologize to you in person with my voice (not as loud and angrily as before) but you locked yourself away from everyone... Away from me. Just thinking about the two days of separation makes me feel so terrible, so distraught, and above all regretful to treating you in such a un-gentlemen like way. When I go to bed, I hoped you would be there beside me, holding me close to the point of desiring to hold you tight...but I'm sleeping in the couch. Now I know from our last arguments before this one whenever I make you sleep in the couch, I can understand why you complain about having back problems.

Alfred took a brief moment to chuckle from that stupid but adorable sentence. Despite their argument, he remembered the funnier things from them. It was true he made him sleep in the couch, but now he felt guilty locking the door of their room. He looked down at the letter and continued reading. His face was growing to smile again.

You may not believe me what I am writing to you but all the words I wrote here are from the bottom of my heart. It was so hard writing this. I threw away at least five pieces of paper! So much for the poor trees and the environment... Whenever you finish (or if you ever read!) this letter I'll be outside the door waiting for you. It may take months, hell, years until you can forgive me. I understand if you don't...but please forgive in some way. Not seeing you tortures me; forbidden to touch you or see your lovely blue eyes makes me sick. And, not hearing your high, strong voice in my ears sounds like complete silence. It fills hatred, the silence, in me because you can't say anything and I hope you can say something, anything! So please, open the door and tell me you forgive me...I really feel like I'm breaking into pieces...

Yours forever and more, Arthur.

Alfred was a sucker for love stories. Often times, he would cry his eyes out seeing a couple doing dumb but wonderful things to win their hearts. But now, reading this letter, it made everything he thought he knew about Arthur completely wrong. This kind of letter which he wrote multiple times proved it. Lightly touching the engraved words, his heart pounded heavily. Love...the words had been made with all the love Arthur could write.

Slowly, his body pulled himself upward and he stood, leaning his back on the door's surface. Was he truthful at the last sentence? Was he breaking inside...because of those remarks? Alfred took all the courage he could to turn, grab the doorknob and open the door at last.

And behind the door was Arthur. His beloved Arthur, patiently waiting with a scared expression which turned into a surprised one when he saw Alfred crying while smiling. Before neither knew it they hugged between the door that separated the two...and they knew one forgave the other.