It started on a day that really was just as much like any other day, Arthur waking up with the sun as he usually did, and Alfred sleeping in until nearly 8:30 before he was up. Arthur was already at the table, dressed and ready although he had nowhere to go that day, what with not having an out of home occupation and it still being summer vacation for Alfred in Kindergarten. Having been alternating between skimming the pages of the local newspaper and sipping his tea, the Brit heard something slightly odd from upstairs, where his son was drowsy from waking up a few minutes prior and from the sounds of it brushing his teeth. Although it wasn't odd for Alfred to make random sounds to amuse himself when his father wasn't in the room, it sounded like the lad was carrying on a conversation with someone, even though Arthur knew for a fact that there was no one else in the house but himself and his six year old son.

It worried him all the same though, so after listening for only a minute or so more, he set his cup of tea down and started towards the stairs. Heading up them he took a right and went down the hallway there until he reached the upstairs bathroom that the gurgled voice of Alfred's was coming from. Giving a slight knock on the door before pushing it open, the blonde granted a small smile of amusement to show at the sight. Standing on a stool so he could reach the sink was Alfred, who although having a mouth full of toothpaste and a toothbrush in one side of his mouth, was somehow able to garble some words out, glancing every so often over to his left side as if he were talking to someone. He didn't seem to notice his father standing there, and Arthur was content to watch on in an amused silence, original intentions for leaving his tea forgotten.

Leaning forwards to spit out the toothpaste foam, and to take a moment to rinse his toothbrush out, the little blonde continued on his conversation. "And Ivan—I told you about him, right Mattie? The creepy tall kid with the weird talking."

"Yeah, I knew I told you about him! But anyway, he can throw the ball really high, and I mean really high! It was a good thing though that I was on his team, because no one else can throw as high as he can. I mean, I could if I wanted but-"

Here his words become garbled again by the toothbrush, and it also seemed that after he took it out of his mouth and put it back into the cup he stored it in, he still hadn't noticed his father watching, amused at his sons' behavior.

It was when Alfred was pushing his small stool back against the far wall again that he stopped his conversation, head tilting as he looked to his right now. "Huh? Mattie, did you just say that someone was watching me?" Arthur took this as his cue to straighten up from his leaning position on the doorframe, smiling still as the younger blonde turned and gave a sharp giggle of laughter.

"Daddy!"

Turning his head once again, Alfred sent a questioning look to the air to his right.

"Why didn't you tell me it was Daddy, Mattie? You scared me!"

And with that, the little one sped over to his father enveloping his legs into a hug as Arthur bent down to scoop him up into a large spinning hug, propping him at his hip for a moment, before setting him down again. That was an old habit, one he hadn't quite gotten out of when he hugged his son like that.

Alfred didn't seem to have minded, though, and simply giggle again, hugging his legs once more when he was set down before sending a grin up to him.

"Daddy, what are we having for breakfast?"

At this, the Brit laughed lightly, giving a light shrug at his son. Despite what some would say, he could actually cook fairly well. Just not large meals. Or really anything beyond basic meals. But he could cook.

"Well, what do you want to eat?"

At the return question, the little boy paused, holding a hand up to his father, as if to tell him to wait a moment, and turned to his left, conferring in a whispered voice as if somebody was there.

Arthur, finding this rather curious, was about to interrupt the young blonde to question it, before stopping as his son turned back to him, large grin on his face.

"Eggs, please!"

"Alright then, eggs it is!"

Alfred, always the energetic little boy, took off running right away, racing to get down the stairs and to the table so he could have breakfast. Arthur, on the other hand, simply walked briskly, used to it.

Just as Alfred was probably used to being told not to run on the stairs, although he rarely had time to not run when he was going that fast.

It was when Arthur was beginning to clear up the dishes, a half hour or so later that he remembered what he had been wanting to ask Alfred in the bathroom. Filling the sink up with water, Alfred pulling a chair over to 'help' (read splash some water about, and keep talking with his dad) had been watching, though he was quiet through the water filling, as was usual.

"Alfred," Glancing over to his son, to make sure he had his attention, Arthur continued.

"Who were you talking to in the bathroom this morning?"

At this, Alfred brightened more, and pointed back to the table, directly at one of the chairs not usually used.

"Mattie. I was talkin' to Mattie."

Raising a (rather bushy) blonde eyebrow to this, the Brit decided to question the four year old more, curious about this 'Mattie' his son had come up with.

"Mattie? Is he one of your friends?"

Alfred nodded at this, pointing to the chair once again. He couldn't seem to see why his father couldn't see the other blonde boy sitting in the chair, legs swinging and hair falling in his face.

"Mattie? He's my bestest friend, Daddy!"

"Bestest friend, hm? Where does Mattie live, then?"

"In the spare room. He says it used to be his room, before it got all changed around. He's sitting at the table now, see?"

And so Arthur did turn to look, turning the tap off as he did so, at the circular kitchen table that took the part of the kitchen, if only to at least humour his son.

And he really wasn't surprised when he saw nobody at the table, even if Alfred's eyes locked onto thin air. Arthur was logical after all, and wouldn't be surprised if this was the start to something many young children had- imaginary friends.

Alright so, I found that copy and pasting to update works better then just uploading the document! Plus, it doesn't mess with my spacing.

Anyways, this is all based off an idea a friend of mine and I had late one night, and I sort of stared writing on it. Not too sure how many chapters this will have, but I do have it planned out, although not at all written yet, which is a bad habit. Updates will in no way be regular, simply because my writing motivation is as moody as a cat dunked in water.