Yay, next chapter! We see a little bit more of Vanya, and no worries y'all, he'll be appearing a lot more in just a little bit.

BIIIIIIIIIIIIIG thankies to all of my fabulous reviewers: YesorNow, Raisuke143, LiveLifeLong, deathray101, and Fynniona! I love you guys for taking a moment and dropping me a comment or two, this story's for you guys after all~~

Nothing big in this chapter, but be prepared for ah... the rating to be upheld next chapter.

DISCLAIMER: So, my season 4 arrived two days ago~ haha suckers, I got mine eeeaaarrrrly~~

Chapter Three: Morning, Work, and Night

The ceiling flickered back into its general shape, appearing much better lit now compared to yesterday's darkness. I stared at it for a while longer, waiting for my limbs to feel reattached to the world and for sudden inspiration to lift me from my cozy resting place and throw me full-throttle back at the living. For now I just rolled over into a cocoon of sheets, reaching sleepily for my glasses on the bedside table. It was never amusing how things didn't want to work with me in the morning. The clitter-clatter of my glasses hitting the ground made me groan in annoyance, my sheet sling tightening as I tried to reach them on the ground without falling out of bed. With luck I managed to graze them bodily and not flick them farther away, so I moved to reset them on my face with ease. Straightening out again to relieve the tension in my warm, deep red covers, I checked my watch with my replaced vision, the world snapping back into clarity the moment I read the time.

8:42 AM.

Not bad, actually. It surprised me that I managed to sleep so long, normally there's the dull aching from whatever events transpired the day previous, or work to be done or something that would keep my stress levels up and my number of hours asleep down. It felt so nice to relax every once in a while.

But, no rest for the wicked or the good, right? With a burst of energy that left me the moment it was used, I flipped the sheets off and sat up swiftly, ignoring the brush of cold air against my toned arms and clothed figure. I raised my hands up towards the sky with systematic practice, opening my white tank-top covered chest to the ceiling and marveling at the grand feeling of my shoulders popping. A couple twists side to side and I deemed my back well stretched, shifting to dangle my legs off the edge of the bed and set my bare feet on solid ground again. I glanced around the tidy cream colored room a bit before noticing a neatly scrawled post-it note on the bedside table.

'Went to work already, there's some fresh ice in the freezer for you' presented itself pleasantly, as if notes like these were left around all of the time. Which on second thought, they were.

Standing up and stretching my back and arms again, I hobbled out the door and stumbled sleepily down the stairs, instinctively going for my trusty good morning beverage maker. Pouring myself a cup of the thick brew, and after a quick addition of a little milk to lighten the taste, I sat down and stared blankly across the room. I yawned. I took another sip of coffee. I wondered desperately about how to get a hold of Vanya, and quickly.

If Arthur left a note, that generally meant he wanted to make sure I was okay, so it would be risky to work on any murals until he decided to stop coming home early. If Vanya met me at a mural, I'm sure that's where he would look when he realized I couldn't contact him first, like I said I would. Or (oh gosh, Heaven forbid), what if he thought I did that on purpose, as a way of rejecting him?

Feeling even worse than most mornings, I finished my coffee and got ready for work, changing into a crisp white button up with rolled up sleeves and slimming black pants with shiny black shoes in the process. I walked into the bathroom and nearly gasped at my face. An ugly purple bruise (that luckily didn't hurt very much) had blossomed overnight on the cheek that had been hit, at least two inches in diameter at the largest part. If I didn't have to worry about looking like a presentable waiter in a family-friendly restaurant, I'd admit that it sorta made me look badass. I checked my watch again, figuring that fifteen minutes of some good icing will at least let the swelling slow down. I unhooked my phone from the bathroom wall charger and headed downstairs again, tapping a little ditty with the clicka-clacka of my shoes as I went, dancing with myself in what resembled a form of joy.

After bounding through the downstairs hallway and back into the kitchen, I set some bread into the toaster under the microwave and set to opening the freezer side of our large refrigerator, using a foot to keep it propped open. At the same time my right hand went for the ice drawer, my left hand fumbled with the drawers beneath the marble counter, searching for the one that held plastic baggies. Grabbing one and shoving some of the chilly ice inside I shut the drawers and freezer quickly, sealing the bag and pressing it to my cheek. Cool relief immediately washed over me and I wandered over to our dark wood antique table and plopped down in a red cushioned chair, blankly staring at the time tick by on my wrist. The scar there lay a faded purple dash, the scab having been scratched off so many times before that it simply remained as a distant memory. Just looking at the wound trailing parallel to my vein made me shiver, that incident from so long ago that would forever be locked in my memories.

A memory I desperately wanted to forget. I hated that time of my life so much, how it hurt me beyond bruises and beatings. That time, when my mother had just passed on, how I had to watch her wither away into a husk of her once beautiful, young self. The cancer had eaten her lungs and her mind, and I could do nothing to save her. I remember all of her pained smiles, up until the day she suddenly had no idea who I was anymore. Her fragility had baffled me, how could my mother, my care taker, have gotten so weak? Where did the loud, outspoken and energetic woman who had taught me to smile disappear to? How could anyone take her away from us, from me? I dealt with the cancer, with watching my mom slowly die, but when I found her body that morning in our living room, hooked up to whirring machines and looking like she has simply fallen asleep, I felt like I was the who who had died.

I looked down at my wrist again, frowning slightly at the thoughts running through my brain. Then I realized the time.

"Shit!" I dropped the bag of melted ice and ran out the front door.

9:31 AM.

"Alfred! You're late!" I gasped, completely out of breath as I stumbled into the back entrance of the restaurant I worked at, a little place owned by two Italian brothers but was really run by the guy standing over me, all dark and angry-like. I closed an eye in a wince as my side cramp intensified, barely managing to lift my head to face my pseudo-boss.

"Hey, sorry Mr. Beilschmidt, I totally forgot the time, it's all my fault, sorry I'm late," I rambled off, straightening up and giving a rather breathy smile, my cheek aching. I knew the sudden increased blood flow probably irritated the sensitive area back to an ugly dark purple; it certainly throbbed obnoxiously at me. I noticed the hitch in Ludwig Beilschmidt's breathing, he probably started rethinking the lecture he had been planning for me. I smiled nervously up at him, admiring distractedly at how smooth he managed to slick back his blonde hair, his bright blue eyes calculating but not necessarily cruel. With a defeated sigh and a hand to his head, he waved me on to work.

"I know it's a bit out of your control... but do you think you could not, err, injure your face?" he asked weakly as he walked on ahead of me into the kitchen, his shoulders tense and an uncomfortable expression on his face. My co-workers knew a little bit about my situation, and some even have tried to help me out of it, but since it's my choice most just give in and offer me a shoulder to cry on if I ever need to. Which, I don't think I've ever used. I smiled cheerily and greeted my other companions, them all smiling awkwardly and trying not to meet my eyes. Throughout my shift I constantly checked the time, feeling hurried and rushed for some reason. At eight o'clock sharp, the end of my work day, I nearly sprinted out of the restaurant, ignoring the distant calls of people demanding I slow down. This antsy-ness felt strange, I felt like I could run a thousand miles an hour and still not be going fast enough.

Switching to autopilot, my legs carried me far away and the city transformed into a blur of neon lights and speeding cars, darkness settling over the hustle and bustle like a calm blanket being fluffed up so that is flutters down smoothly. The uneasiness rush I felt oozed into me from the air, and even with my glasses fogging up I suddenly attained a clarity unknown to me.

I rounded one corner, and then the next, a path created with every sure-footed step. Cross this street, turn left then right; instructions I had drilled into my mind unconsciously. Cars passed me by quickly as the clock ticked away; eight ten, eight eleven. I hung a turn into the next alleyway, registering it as my alley, the one with my hidden ladder and nearly completed mural.

The one in which my childhood crush stood in.

I smiled breathlessly, hands resting on my knees after my sudden exercise. Vanya seemed to be lost in a daydream, his pale face complacent and calm; faraway violet eyes appearing to take in every minute detail of my mural, every gentle brush stroke and color in the dim lighting of the alleyway. I smirked as I stood taller, taking a few steps forward.

"I didn't keep you waiting did I?" Vanya quite literally jumped, startled and panicked. After the initial shock and the blank moment it took for him to recognize me, he smiled widely and rushed up to me like an eager, overgrown puppy that had waited for its master to return after a long day. He stumbled as he very nearly entered my (nonexistent) personal space bubble, a rosy red gracing his cheeks just so as he fumbled with what I imagined he wanted to say. I smiled a winning smile and took an easy step forward, giving the awkward atmosphere a more friendly vibe. He smiled back before shyly wrapping his surprisingly strong arms around my shoulders and drawing me flush against him. The bird that was my heart fluffed its feathers and paced in its cage with newfound energy. I pat his back slowly, rubbing tiny little swirls into him with my fingers.

"I-... I missed you, Alfie," my friend mumbled quietly, his naturally mellow voice a little high and childish sounding. I displayed my winning smile as he pulled back, a lone finger idly brushing my cheek unsurely.

"And I believe you owe me a phone number," I replied casually, my words friendly if not a little sarcastic. The rose color deepened a little and the arms around me disappeared, only to reveal that same bulky phone from our last encounter. Paying no attention to the sound of a car door closing behind me, I took the device and brought forth my newer model, fiddling with the old technology before finding what I wanted and typing it in with skilled fingers. I frowned when I realized 'Vanya' sat at the bottom of my contact list, so with a small, devious smile i tacked on an asterix at each edge of the name. '*Vanya*' now resided even above Arthur's dominating name.

"Uh, uhm... A-Alfie, I was hoping that we might, ah, catch up? P-perhaps later this week, or...?" Vanya trailed off, a smile that didn't manage to hide his worried look on his face. I smiled back.

"Of course! We're best buddies forever, remember?" we smiled brighter in unison at the happy memories that phrase brought back to us. "I'm in a bit of a hurry to get home tonight though, but I'll call you, okay? This time for sure."

Another smile.

Another gentle hug.

"Alright... I will wait for whenever is best for you."

Another goodbye, after another too-short meeting.

Yaaaay~ did you like that? do you want me to love you even if you didnt? catch a mistake i didnt? Tell me tell me

TEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLL MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

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