By the time they arrived at their destination, the sun was already rising and the sky had turned a pale shade of red. Alfred was awoken by the stopping of the taxi and looked at the driver to see him looking back at him, making a hand symbol which asked for his due payment. Alfred stretched himself, shifting his brother off his shoulder and onto the taxi seat as he dug around in his pockets pulling out his black leather wallet. He pulled out the required sum as well as a little extra for dealing with his brother's loud snoring and handed it to the driver. He opened his door, climbing out before slamming it shut, which finally seemed to awaken his brother from his comatose state.
"Here already?" Matthew said as he got out of the taxi and went to the boot to pick up his suitcase, stretching and popping his muscles as he did so.
"You've been sleeping for six hours, Matthew." Alfred responded dryly as he opened the boot and took out a suitcase and briefcase, one of which housed some clothes and other things and one which he used for business. The letter was hidden inside the latter of the two.
"Six hours, dude that's not nearly enough time, a hottie like me has gotta have his beauty sleep, eh?" Matthew responded, adept at ignoring his brother's attempts at outwitting him. "Oh, and by the way," he continued, suddenly right up in his brother's face, licking his lips as his almost purple eyes flared with lust, "you wouldn't mind calling me Mattie, would you?"
Matthew suddenly felt something punch him dangerously close to his crotch and he doubled over, looking up at his brother, whose eyes were filled with anger while his face was as bright red as a Christmas tree light.
"Hah," Matthew half-gasped and half-said as he tried to recover, winded by the blow "Such a virgin."
"Shut up!" Alfred said, leaving Matthew to get up and grab his own cases. Matthew, when he'd sufficiently recovered enough to stand up without falling down, closed the boot and watched the driver go off into the distance, down an old road which weaved in and out of the forest, quietly scheming as to how to get his 'dear older brother' back for almost depriving him of his reproductive system.
Meanwhile, Alfred was looking at the place where they would be staying, smiling. The team that Alfred would be managing was located in the more rural parts of Britain, his higher ups saying it worked better for productivity to work in an environment which most cultures knew about, and so, when Alfred had been given the order to move, he had just so happened to get the one place he thought he would never see again.
In front of him was the cottage he had left twenty years ago. Most of it was the same as it had been back then, though slightly worse for wear. The walls were still a warm cream, though the paint had discoloured in places and in others seemed to have disappeared entirely, leaving only the white stone behind. The roof, once excellently tiled, had had some of the tiles fall off to the ground, leaving bare patches. The windows seemed to be okay, though Alfred knew he'd had to get them double glazed to reduce energy costs.
By now, Matthew had come to his side and given him a harder than necessary nudge before walking ahead of him.
"Stop gawking like a retard Alfie! We got some work to do!"
Alfred grumbled slightly at the comment and shouted back at his brother,
"I know that, and stop calling me Alfie, I outgrew that name long ago!"
Of course, Matthew just laughed, disappearing into the building. Alfred followed after him, grumbling curses.
When they were inside at last, it seemed like they'd entered a different world. A rather old-fashioned world. Everything had been kept almost exactly as it had been before, though there had been some new things installed over the various years and owners.
Matthew dumped his stuff in a messy pile in the middle of the hallway and walked into the living room, where a flat-screen TV and couch and various other things were that had been moved here from their American home, all wrapped in plastic, just waiting to be torn open.
"Yay, TV!"
"At least try and be an adult." Alfred said as he walked in, his cases stacked neatly on the floor.
"At least try and not be a wet blanket!" Matthew shot back, "you try and not be amazed by one thousand channels-"
"Of shit…" Alfred added
"Don't you dare insult the TV, poser. You may have had shit cartoons when you were little, but this is cable TV!"
"Yeah, whatever." Alfred said, smiling smugly as he rolled his eyes. In truth, Alfred didn't hate TV, (hell, he loved watching movies on it) but he never revered it as much as his brother did, a quirk on which he blamed America's overly high use of TV on children at a young age.
"Anyway." Alfred said, swiftly moving on before his brother could comment on something else "we have got to get this plastic off."
"Aw, so we don't get to watch TV and sit on a couch through plastic? I'm disillusioned."
"Shut up…" Alfred said as he started to take the plastic off the couch.
A couple of hours passed as Alfred and Matthew removed stuff from their plastic wrappings, boxes and other containers and put them in their rightful places. The cottage had seven rooms; two bathrooms, two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen with space for a table included and an office. After Alfred had finished placing the last few bits of cutlery in the kitchen drawers and wiping down the table top of the kitchen, he breathed out a content sigh and looked around. He already felt at home here, which wasn't very surprising.
He walked into the living room to find that Matthew had fallen asleep on the couch in a rather undignified position, half-his body hanging off the side of the couch with his stomach exposed. Alfred massaged his temple. No wonder he hadn't heard anything from the other in the last thirty minutes. He walked over and thought of carrying Matthew to bed when, out of the corner of his eye, something ran by a window in the living-room.
Alfred, curious, forgot about his brother for a moment as he looked outside, moving towards the window. The window didn't look out onto much; just the blue sky and the dense forest that surrounded the cottage.
It couldn't be… could it? he thought. He looked around for any hint of life. He was about to give up when he saw some bushes rustle unnaturally. He felt as if his body was moving on its own as he left his brother snoring on the couch and went straight to the front door, opening it without caring to get the keys from his brother and ran out, slamming the door behind him.
He ran towards the forest and the bushes he had seen rustling. He pawed through them but found nothing, then saw some sort of tracks in the moist ground.
Human foot prints? he thought as he started to walk into the forest, following them. His clothes weren't meant for the forest, overly casual and shoes not hard-wearing. He didn't care though as he continued to follow the tracks, squeezing past the trees as he went deeper and deeper into the forest.
At some point, the tracks stopped and Alfred thought of giving up and turning back, knowing Matthew would have a field day, wondering why he had left. He was about to go when he heard a noise. Laughter. He turned quickly and everything was silent, except for the slight rustling of the branches above him.
There was another sound and this time it sounded like someone speaking.
"Hello?" Alfred shouted.
A pause.
"Hello." He repeated.
Another pause.
"Is anyone there?"
Silence.
Then, "A-Al." The voice was stuttering, coming from nowhere place and yet everywhere at the same time, like it was reverberating in Alfred's skull. Alfred twitched, his serious persona slipping slightly before he drew himself up to his full height.
"Hello, who are you?"
The voice laughed and then the branches moved erratically. Alfred looked up to see a shape in the branches, rapidly moving away from him.
He grit his teeth. Who was this person?
He started to run now, not caring about the obstacles in his way as he ran through the forest, past animal dens and holes in the ground and tree trunks, twice the thickness of Alfred's body. He didn't care about any of those as he followed the figure in the branches, who looked little more than silhouette from Alfred's perspective.
"Hey!" he shouted towards the figure. "Stop running! What are you doing on my property!?"
The figure didn't answer, leading him further and further into the forest.
Eventually, he came to a clearing, where the trees parted and there was only grass, wild flowers and a small but deep pool which seemed to have been made by collected rainwater.
Alfred stopped and looked around frantically, trying to find the silhouette in vain.
Where are they?
As he looked around, he took in the clearing with all its beautiful plants and the sun glimmering off the pool of rainwater. It was a nice place and so… nostalgic. Alfred smiled, a strange fuzzy feeling in his chest and mind, and turned around to see two gleaming emerald eyes right in front of his face.
"Ya-hah!" he shouted (not screamed, not at all) as he jumped backwards, stumbling and falling down. He was now by the pool's edge as he looked up at the figure in front of him. The man wasn't wearing much in the way of clothing; only an old pair of jeans which were torn every which way. He was a thin figure, though not unhealthily so and was fairly tanned. Alfred looked up farther, becoming more and more confused as he recognized the man's features one by one. The man had emerald eyes, human in appearance but mystical in feeling, the iris slightly more acute and fox-like. The man also had sandy blond hair, tussled everywhere with no sense of order. Though, most notable were three features. One, his eyebrows, which looked like fuzzy caterpillars had crawled onto his face and died. Two, were the fox ears, which he sported, almost hidden among his hair except for their white tips. And three, and strangest of all, was his two tails – yeah, two fox tails. Both were the same colour, sandy blond with white tips.
Alfred was shocked, unable to speak or even breathe as the man stood in front of him, the tails swaying and the ears flicking as he started to say something. He pronounced his words slowly and carefully as if a single misstep would cause Alfred to flee like a frightened animal.
"Hi… Alfie…"
The voice was quiet, soothing and most of all… British.
It was too much for Alfred. His mind, practically being torn apart by the conflict between his logic and the impossible sight before him, began to shut down. As he felt his consciousness slip away, he thought.
Arthur…
Then he fell unconscious, snoring quietly as the man approached him. The man sighed as he looked at Alfred, then smiled and chuckled quietly.
"You did that when we met for the first time too."
Alfred, through his absent mind, felt himself being moved and placed against some sort of hard surface. Two soft tendons were wrapped around him, warming him gently as well as tickling his nose slightly. He relaxed, slipping fully into sleep, leaning against the warm body next to him. He questioned, hazily, how long it'd been since he'd slept so well.
