Make a Wish

Give Me Hope, Story One

Overview: Part of a series of stories inspired by the "Give Me Hope" posts.

11:11 p.m. Great.

Arthur's phone rang. He grumbled at the unexpectedly loud music blaring from his phone's crappy speakers, and patted his hand around, feeling for it. He flipped it open, not caring about who it was, because he had a piece of his mind to give whoever it was.

"'ello? Do you know wha' the bloo'y ti'e it is?" he blearily, half-shouted into his phone. He was too sleepy to muster enough volume to yell.

"Arthur! It's 11:11! Make a wish!" Alfred's voice was way too jolly for such a late time at night.

"„," He called him for that? What time was it…? He wanted to sleep…

"Arthur?"

"…hnn?"

"Arthur! Wish!"

"…di'…." Arthur mumbled into his phone. Darn it, he wanted to sleep. But if Alfred was going to call his name every few seconds, then sweet unconsciousness cruelly slipped from his grasps.

"Yeah?"

"…—ah…yeah," Arthur flipped onto his back, throwing an arm on his forehead and pressing the phone to his ear with his other.

"Well? What was it?"

"Isn't that not the point of making a wish? Isn't it supposed to be kept secret?" He was really tired…

"Aw, you can tell me!"

"It's bloody eleven at night and you're pestering me about a wish?"

"Wishes are precious!"

"…nn…"

"Arthur…" Alfred whined.

"I wished that I could go back to sleep," Arthur grumbled.

"What? You couldn't!"

"…wished you were here," Arthur muttered, his eyes refusing to open at all, his fingers ready to close the phone. …that'd be nice…

"Well," Alfred drawled out, sounding way too pleased, "Come to the door, babe."

"What?" Not only did he wake Arthur up, but he was going to make him get out of bed, too?

"C'mon, just do it, darling."

Arthur muttered under his breath, something akin to don't call me darling, as he grudgingly swung his legs off the bed and pulled the sheets to the side.

As he unlocked the door and opened it, he wasn't surprised that the American was actually standing outside, but he did wonder why the hell he was there. And why did it look like he was shivering?

"Why in your blasted mind are you standing outside my house?"

Alfred grinned, though his teeth were still clattering, and he produced a box of tea from behind his back.

He looked absolutely ridiculous.

"…What?" God, the passing wind really was cold.

Alfred stepped up and wrapped his arms snugly around Arthur, who hadn't the heart to push him away in his just-awoken state. It had been a long month. And Alfred's arms felt great around him…

"I'm sorry," Alfred said. "I don't really know which tea you like, so I just chose one that a lot of people seemed to like. But I know you hadn't been feeling well lately, so I thought I'd come."

Arthur rubbed his face against Alfred's cold hoodie. "In the middle of the night?" he muttered against the fabric.

Alfred hesitated and smiled ruefully. "Well…I wanted to give you a surprise. And I only got here a few—uh, I just got here, and wanted to know if…you wanted to see me. 'Cause I would've left if you didn't…"

"You got here a few hours ago? In the cold?"

"Well…uh, no."

"You're lying."

Alfred laughed uncomfortably. Arthur squeezed his arms tighter.

"And you were going to stay out here if I ignored you."

"Well…"

"You're a downright idiot."

"If it makes you feel better, then yeah, I am." Alfred hummed happily as he set his chin on the crown of Arthur's head, and after a short silence, he asked, "Can we get inside? I'm freezing here."

Arthur lingered a moment longer, before reluctantly pulling away, and they hurried upstairs to return to bed. For the first time in the last few weeks, Arthur felt content and happy, lying in Alfred's arms and falling back into the sleep he had missed for a while.

Alfred placed a light kiss on Arthur's forehead and mumbled, "Good night, Art."

Arthur fidgeted slightly to get closer to Alfred, and right before he fell asleep, he said, "Thank you…love…"

Alfred caught all of it, and smiled. He would do anything to make Arthur feel better.