Hi everyone! Sorry for the incredibly long wait. Things got really busy and...a lot of things were deleted. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the next chapter!


"Oh, will you please stop that tapping!"

Gilbert's hand froze, and he slowly drew it up onto his lap. Elizaveta's eyes flared again before she turned to Arthur, her gaze softening. "Sorry, dear. It's been a long morning."

Arthur shook his head, smiling slightly. "No trouble at all." His back rested against the mahogany bed frame as he looked out the window.

It was around noon, and Arthur still couldn't believe what had happened last night. His thoughts swam with Alfred, only thoughts of Alfred, how he was doing, what his change meant...and who he would be meeting in the morning. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Was it a dream? He couldn't sleep at all afterwards, and he hadn't remembered dozing off, so it couldn't have been a dream. Elizaveta came down just before the sun rose, and she seemed surprised that he was awake.

Gilbert was lounging on the chair across from the bed, his hand drifting down to the side of the chair again as he started tapping it unconsciously. He was buried in another magazine, although his eyes seemed vacant and a bit bored. Elizaveta came back from the kitchen with a frying pan.

"Sweetie?"

Gilbert's lips quirked up in a grin, but his eyes didn't move from the page. "Yeah, babycakes?"

Arthur froze, watching her with wide eyes as she encroached on him.

"You have three seconds," she giggled sweetly, swinging her hitting arm in a circle. "Three...two..."

Gilbert seemed to realize his predicament as he tossed the magazine to the floor, backflipping over the chair in his attempt to escape. He jumped onto the bed beside Arthur, pushing Arthur towards Elizaveta. "Take him!"

"Awww, are you offering a human as sacrifice instead? You know I'd never hurt Arthur dearest," she said, her voice sweet yet cold. Her eyes were dark as they flashed towards Gilbert again. "But you, on the other hand...might I remind you whose fault this all is?"

Gilbert's panicked expression dropped instantly as he frowned, his face falling. His expression was so uncharacteristically severe that he seemed years older. His gaze fell to the ground as he slowly shifted to the edge of the bed. "Yeah, I get it, Liz." He got up tiredly, picking up his magazine as he left through the hall, his steps echoing.

"I bet it was too much," Elizaveta whispered, a wistful expression on her face. Suddenly, she turned to Arthur, a bright smile on her face. "Anyway. Lots of work to do today! For you."

Arthur blinked. "Pardon?"

"You. Have. To. Survive." She pronounced each word carefully with a sympathetic smile on her face. "For all of us."

There were too many vague implications floating around since yesterday, and Arthur furrowed his eyebrows in frustration. Firstly, he didn't fully understand why they had imprisoned him. Secondly, he didn't understand Alfred at all, nor did he understand what had happened last night. His heart and his mind united in their refusal to let Arthur forget what he had seen, the tears, the emotion, the love that he had never seen in someone else before. And thirdly, he didn't understand why Elizaveta cared for him so much. If he was really such a threat, why would they not just...eat him, or dispose of him, or something or the sort? It was a lot easier than keeping him alive.

"C-Can I help you in any way? Or...is Gilbert all right?" he asked tentatively, standing up and walking towards her slowly. His arm felt surprisingly good, but echoes of the pain still remained. Still, it had only been a day, and it had healed unnaturally quickly. Arthur had never had a particularly sturdy body - his brothers jibing him for his "frail" stature had reduced his self confidence to nothing - but healing this quickly was simply ridiculous.

Elizaveta's smile faltered. "Hmm. He'll be all right. Just...lemon drops in the wound, as it were."

"What was his fault?" Arthur asked carefully, choosing a direct approach.

Elizaveta opened her mouth, about to respond, but clamped her mouth shut again as the two heard someone heavily stomping down the stairs. Arthur gulped, squeezing his hands into fists. He wasn't ready, but he had to be. He had to confront whoever was coming down those stairs. He suddenly felt cold, almost shaking in anticipation.

"That would be Alfred," Elizaveta sighed to herself. She suddenly looked lost, her eyes darting from Arthur to the doorway. "I-I'm here for you," she said softly, her eyes betraying a hidden confusion and weakness as she took Arthur's hand and gave it a squeeze. She quickly broke away and strode into the kitchen, leaving the door open to hear their conversation.

It's okay. It was going to be all right. Arthur took a deep breath, calming himself. He'd been so weak since yesterday that he was forcing Elizaveta to protect him - but he knew better now. He was strong. He was Arthur bloody Kirkland and he wouldn't allow this demon to push him around. But what if the other Alfred came instead?

But...that Alfred couldn't see. His heart began to beat erratically. He quickly quelled it by focusing on confronting the demon Alfred.

His resolve steeled, he eyes the doorway with a hard glare, and soon enough he was greeted by blood red.

"I see my little lion likes the morning," Alfred said, a slight smirk in his face. "Slept well?"

Did he not remember? Was it all a trick to unhinge him, to get close to him so he could exploit his weaknesses? Cold hatred settled in the bottom of Arthur's stomach.

"As well as can be expected, living in a house with three demons," Arthur sighed, looking Alfred up and down. "And yourself? Sauntering in here at noon...I suppose you had a late night."

Alfred's eyes flashed dangerously. "Ah, I remember...Liz, we need a collar for our pet, here."

Whether Elizaveta heard or not, she chose not to respond. Alfred didn't seemed fazed.

"And after that?" Arthur crossed his arms over his chest. No. You have to be bigger. He stood up straighter, putting his hands casually on his hips.

"After what?" Alfred seemed a bit annoyed, and took a couple of steps towards Arthur. Arthur stood his ground.

"You saw me. What happened then, may I ask?" Arthur challenged, his gaze unwavering.

Alfred blinked, and for a second Arthur thought he caught a sliver of confusion in his eyes. But it was quickly smothered by Alfred's endless supply of arrogance.

"Does it matter? That's a win for me, and nothing for you. So you starve today."

So that's how he dealt with problems. Ignoring them. Arthur could have laughed at his childishness.

"Fair enough," Arthur pretended to shrug, nonchalantly walking towards the kitchen. "I suppose I'll go let Elizaveta know, then. That you intend to starve your prisoner."

Arthur didn't make it very far before he felt his arms wrench behind him as he most definitely did not let out a yelp.

"What are you -"

"Come on," Alfred crooned, his nails digging into Arthur's skin, "Show me some of what you showed me yesterday. What you showed me last night," he growled as he spun Arthur around so that they were face to face.

Before he could speak, Arthur knew that Alfred read him like a book. Saw the fear, saw his ears go pink, saw his eyes wide and searching - anxious at what Alfred would do next. Alfred knew he had power, and he was enjoying it.

"Unhand me," Arthur said quickly, struggling to free himself. "I'm warning you now."

"Warning me of what, Arthur?"

Why did he always feel a chill shoot through his spine every time Alfred said his name? Arthur froze instinctually.

"T-That I'm tougher than I look," he managed.

Alfred laughed at that. Even Arthur knew he didn't sound convincing.

The strange feeling turns into an unbearable longing

I would follow you to the end of forever...

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, the words ringing in his ears as a searing headache almost made him collapse. But Alfred was holding him up, and Arthur quickly regained his footing, shaking his head to clear his mind. Why now, of all times?

"Not tough enough," Alfred noted, a twisted smile on his face.

Arthur's eyes darted to the kitchen, but he knew he shouldn't rely on Elizaveta. He had to stand his ground.

He suddenly gave Alfred the most gentlemanly smile he could manage as he rammed his knee into Alfred's leg, using Alfred's split second of surprise to yank his arms away and run across the room, panting.

But Alfred only seemed more amused, more delighted, as he strode over to Arthur again.

But Elizaveta came then, as promised, with a frying pan in her hand. "Al, would you be a dear and finish frying the mushrooms?"

Alfred stopped in his tracks.

"Finish frying them yourself."

"Al. You. Kitchen. Now."

Alfred made a tch noise as he spun around, skulking towards the kitchen as if his favorite toy was taken away from him.

"Elizaveta," Arthur sighed in relief, walking over to her. "Thank you, and I apologize for this...I really should be able to handle this sort of thing on my own, but I -"

Elizaveta smiled at him. "Call me Liz, Arthur. And...at least we know he won't kill you now."

Arthur frowned. "Do we?"

She smiled. "He likes you, our Al."

Gilbert came into the room, adding, "Yup, he definitely does. You know he gets tired of all the girls, like, an hour after he meets them? He's not even dating you and he's still teasing you after a day."

Arthur flushed at that. "W-Why would...what are you implying?" he spluttered, at a loss for words. "And that hardly qualifies as teasing! He's constantly threatening to kill me!"

"Nah, he probably thinks its funny watching you squirm," Gil said dismissively, sitting down on his chair again. He seemed to be in a better mood, and the darkness in his eyes from earlier that morning had seemingly vanished.

"Well, I certainly don't find it amusing in the least," Arthur snapped, sighing. "Nor do I understand why I'm being imprisoned here." He looked out the window wistfully, the verdant trees swaying in the breeze, so tantalizingly close...He could just smell the fresh air that he was denied. But every time he thought about escape, every time he yearned from his freedom, images of Alfred, his desperation, his sorrow, flashed in the back of his mind. He pushed them down again, refusing to devote any more time to the monster. Or was he?

He turned to see Elizaveta's reaction, and was glad to see that there was a hint of nervousness in her eyes. Was she feeling guilty? Would she let him go? His heartbeat sped up in anticipation.

He still had to convince himself this wasn't a bizarre dream.

"Sorry, dear," she said, two simple words that dashed his hopes unbelievably quickly. Arthur let out a sigh, looking around the room with tired eyes.

"Might I have something to read?" he asked after a while. "Anything will do."

"In that case -" Elizaveta cut Gilbert off before he could finish.

"We do have a small library," she said slowly, giving Arthur a sympathetic smile. "Why don't we head on over there after lunch?"


Five days. It had only been five days, and yet Arthur felt like it had been an eternity locked up in this quite literally godforsaken house.

Lounging in a chair in the library, he wearily picked up another book from the stack on the table next to him of works he had selected to read for the day. Anything to distract him from the fact that he was imprisoned by three unpredictable demons.

At least Elizaveta was kind to him. Gilbert often teased him, muttered vague phrases or simply left him alone, while Alfred...

A shiver ran down Arthur's spine just thinking about him.

He still wasn't sure whether Alfred truly did intend to kill him one day, or if Arthur was just an endless source of amusement for him. But Arthur did know that he was intelligent - a quick learner - and he was beginning to get a hold on how to handle the brute.

Step for step. Jab for jab. And no matter how strong Alfred was, he could always win battles with his wits.

He had gotten halfway through the prologue when his book was rudely snatched from him, and he looked up wearily to find Alfred gazing down at him, a bored expression on his face. And bored for Alfred meant cold, unamused, and threatening.

"Reading again? What's the point of this boring shit anyway?" Alfred asked, tossing the book over his shoulder. Arthur sighed, not bothering to stand up.

"Some people appreciate the finer things in life. Ah, pardon me. People, not demons," Arthur sneered, a cocky smile on his face. "So I wouldn't expect you to understand."

It was a game, really. Learning when to respond, when to ignore, when to force himself to calm down...it was a good break from the novels he'd been burying himself in.

Alfred's eyes grew a bit wider as a caustic grin lit up his face. "Understand? You're the one who doesn't understand, little lion. What situation you're in."

Arthur immediately stood up, challenging Alfred's gaze. "Oh? Pray tell."

Occasionally his eyes would betray him. Occasionally he'd see a flash of blond, a hint of blue, but all too soon he'd be reminded that the demon in front of him was merciless, sadistic, and had quite possibly played a nasty trick on him a few nights ago. His little stint, transforming, telling him he loved him.

But a part of Arthur knew that it wasn't a trick. He was just too weak to accept it, to accept the fact that there was so much more to Alfred than the cruel monster he had to deal with day after day.

Elizaveta had told him he had to survive. And he had a bad feeling that he wouldn't last much longer if he stayed involved with Alfred.

Alfred seemed to freeze for a second, not responding. Arthur frowned.

"There's a..." he trailed off, his voice, usually so confident, sounded lost and confused. "Why..." He suddenly reached out to Arthur's face, and Arthur instantly backed up, miscalculating the distance and falling back into the chair. His arms fell onto the armrests as he stared up at Alfred, waiting for his next move.

Alfred stared down at him, his hands leaning on the armrest, pinning Arthur's wrists to the chair, as he leaned forward, his eyes wide and fixed on Arthur's cheek. Arthur blinked several times, feeling heat rise to his face.

"Do I have something on me?"

Every moment, it's harder to restrain myself...

Arthur pushed the melody down; he couldn't afford to be distracted. "L-Let go of me!"

Alfred suddenly recoiled, releasing Arthur's hands as he reached out for Arthur's neck. His fingers danced across the bruises he had left the previous day, and Arthur winced as he recalled how Alfred had almost strangled him after he had talked back to him in the hallway.

"I did this."

It was a statement. It wasn't a question. But his voice was not triumphant, it wasn't gleeful, it held no arrogance nor sadism. It was empty. Why is it empty?

He suddenly jerked Arthur's chin upwards until they were inches apart, and Alfred had practically climbed onto the chair, his knee in between Arthur's legs. Arthur knew that escape was out of the question.

"Why aren't you afraid of me?" Alfred asked softly, almost gently, a slight frown on his face. His voice was lower than usual.

Arthur was paralyzed, his eyes searching, seeking as green met blue.

"Because you don't deserve it."

Their gazes were locked, neither backing down. Arthur felt as if time had stopped. Neither moved, each waiting for the other's response, in tune with each other for the first time, evenly matched.

It was only then that Arthur realized Elizaveta and Gilbert were talking in the hallway, and he could hear their voices clearly.

"...but he still wants to leave..."

"Give him time, Liz. He'll come around, you'll see."

A pause. "And if he doesn't?"

"We've come too far now. If he doesn't, we're all dead."

Arthur's heart thundered in his chest. What was the reason they didn't want him to leave? Alfred seemed to notice Arthur was distracted, and leaned away from him, although he still remained in his position on the chair.

Alfred, to Arthur's surprise, seemed interested as well, his blue eyes eyeing the doorway.

"I-I want to...believe, Gil. So badly." Elizaveta sounded broken. Lost. So full of sorrow that Arthur's heart twinged painfully.

"And you can," came Gilbert's soft response. "If it comes down to it, I will take responsibility."

A scoff. "You never take responsibility for anything."

"Don't I? Was this not responsibility enough?"

...

"And we've waited so, so long for this...and Al..."

Alfred straightened, slowly getting off the chair as he walked towards the doorway. He turned back to Arthur suddenly, a finger over his lips. Arthur felt a bit irritated - of course he wouldn't speak, he wanted to listen too - but he simply nodded, his eyes trained on the doorway.

"He isn't a monster, Liz."

"B-But...it's so strong..."

"What is?" Alfred interrupted, walking out the door and towards the hallway. Arthur sucked in his breath in surprise as he cautiously stood up and followed him, still staying hidden in the library.

"O-Oh, Alfred!" Elizaveta attempted a cheery voice. "Were you spending time with Arthur?"

"Hardly." Alfred sneered. "He prefers his books to me."

"Oh, I'm sure that isn't true," Elizaveta responded sweetly. "Right, Arthur dear? Come out, won't you?"

His heart threatening to leap out of his chest, Arthur came out guiltily, his arms crossed over his chest.

So Alfred didn't know what was going on, either. Although the three seemed to have lived together for a while, it seemed there were things even Alfred didn't know. That he was dying to know. He felt a little bit better, knowing he had support in his attempts to find out the secrets of the household.

"I guess we were a bit loud," Gilbert said after a while, his eyes locked on the floor. "Whatever." He yawned, turning around. "None of your business." And later, quieter, "It's all mine."

Nobody stopped him as he walked away. Seconds later, Elizaveta smiled at Arthur and Alfred before she followed him.

Alfred stood motionless. Then he whirled on Arthur, reckless fury in his eyes. He cornered Arthur against the wall.

"What is it?!"

"What is what?"

"What is it you have that they want?" Alfred hissed, punching his fist to the right side of Arthur's head. Arthur could feel himself beginning to sweat as Alfred leaned closer, way too close...

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Arthur retorted, pushing on his chest. "And get away from me!"

"Always to your lonely little books," Alfred crooned condescendingly, pushing on Arthur's hand and regaining the small distance between them.

Arthur frowned, thoughts racing. Alfred was attacking him out of defense, as an alternate path to let out his confusion and frustration. Arthur's eyes softened considerably as he thought about it, and Alfred's eyes widened in response, confusion evident.

In the end, Alfred just didn't know how to deal with himself. His feelings. His thoughts.

That made two of them.

"How long have you been with them?" Arthur asked.

"Those two? Why does it matter?"

"You answer me, and I'll answer you," Arthur said, huffing as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Alfred seemed amused. "All right. I'll bite, little lion. In this house...ten years. Maybe twenty. Give or take. But we're demons. Time doesn't really matter."

Arthur couldn't believe they had been living there almost as long as he'd been alive, but for some reason it made sense. With what Elizaveta was saying earlier, about having waited "so long" for something.

"And you don't age?"

"Nice try." Alfred smirked. "Your question is over. My turn. What do you have that they want?"

"A heart," Arthur blurted out without thinking, and he looked up at Alfred, surprise evident in his eyes.

Alfred stood dumbfounded for a couple of seconds before bursting out into laughter.

"A heart?! If they just wanted a heart they would have killed you and took it! A heart, he says!" Alfred hunched over, laughing for a good minute before he stood up again, his eyes slightly brighter - but not in a terrifying way. He regarded Arthur with amusement before he suddenly laid his hand on Arthur's cheek.

"A heart, huh..."

His hand dropped quickly as he spun around and walked away. Arthur followed him, thoughts muddled, as he wondered what he had just gotten himself into.