Well everyone it's time for another Matthew diaries update. After seeing how well this series is doing, I'm excited that I posted this up.
Summary of the Last Ch: 1) Matthew ran home crying. 2) Carlos gave Matthew's notebook to Alfred and said blonde began reading the first entry. 3) Canada had of a memory of his childhood with his father, France. 4) Kumajirou was comic relief! XD 5) Matthew found his old blue jacket from his dream and sobbed over his father's words.
Does this about sum it up? Holy Hell I hope so!
Alright enough of that (if anyone is even reading), here's ch 4! BETA READ BY SARAQUITA~!
Enjoy!
It was a heartbreaking experience, knowing that you may be the cause for someone's suffering, especially when it was someone connected to you personally, like a twin. It took what felt like forever for Alfred to understand his brother's words...his twins crush. It hurt, not knowing what to do or what went wrong.
Alfred had done many bad things to his baby brother, like push him into dares he didn't want to do, causing invisible scars on the Canadian. But even with all that had happened to him, Matthew was smiling...a real smile...not the crap that he usually tries now.
The American wanted to cry at every degrading thing Matthew said about himself from 'a piece of shit' to 'a coward' to even questioning his life. Alfred understood that people were curious about what they were meant to do in life, though he didn't believe in all that "It's your destiny, you can't defy it" crap. You do what you want to do and that's it. But this writing was desperate, like Canada has waited all his life for an answer and wanted it now. He acted as if he were an old man on his deathbed wanting someone, anyone, to know of his life story. It just made Alfred's heart clench.
It was late afternoon as the meeting room grew quieter, emptier. Countries left in groups of two to four. Antonio hung around Lovino like a fly even after getting a black-eye by the brunette. Kiku and Herucles (Greece) were playing with a pussycat that had wondered into the conference before it actually began. And now America, picking up the notebook like a fresh feather, was walking to the door, not even realizing that a dirty-blonde British-man was shadowing him. His steps were quiet as he stalked around, trying to figure out what had changed in his sons mood.
What is it with him? First he's as happy as ever, and now he's down in the dumps, over what?
Arthur listened closely as something paper-like fluttered and the sound of Alfred's huffs and sighs filled his ears. A book? When the blonde men turned a corner, Arthur aimed his view to the American's hands, only to see a notebook with a red shimmering maple leaf on it.
Oh, it's just a notebook, but it doesn't look like it's his. Great, who did he steal from this time? It can't be Germany's, it's a little too...gay...flambuént for him.(?) Maybe Italy's? But what's interesting about him? He would just write PASTA~! across the page and be done. Or write about what he and Germany did the other night...*blush*? Ok, maybe that would be interesting to read about, but I didn't think that Alfred was into that...
Said American halted in front of him, causing the Brit to plow into him. Alfred turned to stare at the shorter man, still finding it hard to believe that at one time he himself was smaller than his father. Britain looked to his sons eyes and couldn't believe what he'd seen before Alfred turned away. He'd seen sadness and confusion. Alfred continued forward, ignoring the Brit even when the said Brit was tailing him all the way back to their house.
"Oh, come on America! There isn't anything you can't talk to your dad about. Please Alfred, I'm really worried about you." Britain's voice began to grow to a whisper as the American formed tears that rolled down his cheeks. He turned to the Brit.
"It's something you wouldn't understand."
Alfred burst through the front door of their shared house and tripped up the stairs, accidentally dropping the notebook. He ran into their bedroom and locked the door a few seconds before Arthur grasped the doorknob.
"Dammit Alfred, open this door! What's wrong?"
"Just leave me be for a while Arthur, I'll tell you someday but not tonight."
Arthur froze. Arthur...he doesn't call me Arthur...he calls me 'old man' or 'Iggy'. Ok, something was seriously wrong. But the Brit realized that without super monster strength like his son, he wouldn't be able to get to him.
"Alright, in fact, have the room tonight. I've been needing to catch up on some shows on the DVR anyway."
Arthur soon heard silence, and assumed the American was down talking.
The British man stepped away from the door and went over to the closet near the bathroom and grabbed a spare blanket and pillow for the couch. He began walking down the stairs and started thinking out loud, "Maybe I should feed him some hamburgers for dinner to get him to spill." He looked next to him, "What do you think Tink?"
The little imaginated fairy gave the Brit a huge smile, "That's a great idea Mr. Kirkland. Your a genius!" she spoke with excitment.
"Well thanks Tink, it means a lot coming from you. And I don't like to brag, but I defintally know - WAHHH-"
Arthur lost his footing on the seventh-to-last step and rode on his ass down the rest of the stairs. He stood and rubbed his posterior, forgetting completely about Tinkerbell. "The bloody hell?" He turned and looked up the stairs to see the notebook with the shimmery red maple leaf lying open face.
~!~!~!~!~!
"Owner, I'm hungry," the little imp known as Mr. Kumajiro cried, tugging off the Canadians blankets.
"Dammit Kuragy, we just ate pancakes you stupid glutton, now go to bed. I want to get to sleep."
Kumajiro didn't budge even after Canada had turned to dismiss him. Kumajiro slid down the door and covered his face with his paws. Canada turned slightly to hear hiccups and gasps. He soon realized the little gold polar bear was crying. Awe shit!
Kumajiro shot his head back and gave a scream, "WHY ARE YOU SOOO MEAN TO ME!?"
Canada jumped out of his skin, but soon regained himself and ran to the bear. The polar bear flinched, scared that the Canadian was going to hit him.
Matthew stared at the bear and began to remember a time like this. No, multiple times like this. He remembered how he used to say he was hungry as an excuse to get Francis' attention. But he was never hungry, he was just shy to ask if he could sleep with the man those nights.
Matthew sat on his knees and stretched his arms out. "Come here, fluff ball."
Kumajiro hestitantly leaned into his masters touch, and began to cry a little harder.
"Would you like to sleep in my bed with me tonight."
"Why would I want to do that, stupid owner?" The Canadian chuckled at the bears words. He used to deny it when Francis asked the same question, however Canada just didn't answer as rudely.
Cuddling Kumajiro, Matthew walked over to the bed and lay down with the bear. He pulled Kumajiro into a crushing hug and kissed the bear's eyes, wiping the tears away.
"Eww, stop that...that's nasty," Kumajiro huffed, slightly drousy.
"Just go to sleep, silly bear."
With that, Kumajiro was out like a light. Well, it was about damn time. I thought he would never shut up! Canada sighed.
Matthew looked down at the sleeping face that pressed against his collar bone, feeling a bit like...a mother. He let a smile spread across his face, his eyes beginning to blur.
Little strands of water fell silently from his lashes as he pressed a kiss to the bears nose.
"I love you Kumajiro. Good night."
Hey ppls.
I'm so sorry that it took forever to write and load this. So as an apology, I wrote another one-shot story called America's Lunchbox. If anyone ever heard the commentary with Eric Vale and Jerry Jewel talking about cocaine burgers...then this story is for u!
I promise to try to update regularly. And thank u all for waiting!
C:
