Who's this wanker?
That was Arthur's first thought when he first met Alfred. I mean, straight-up asking for a date out of nowhere! Who did he think he was? Neverless, charmed by his bluntness, Arthur had agreed. And after an embarrassing first date and an absolutely incredible second, Arthur had to admit he was smitten.
The man was near perfect. He was kind, entertaining, amusing, and handsome to boot. He was built like a bloody model, in fact. However, that didn't change the fact that the American was denser than a brick, childish, stubborn, daft and an overall handful. Yet, Arthur would be reluctant to admit that he did in fact love him.
So that's why it was so confusing when Alfred turned into himself. Grew reclusive. He said it was the stress, but Arthur knew better. Alfred exercised his stress away. He didn't internalize it. Furthermore, Alfred grew distant. Too distant. The American was a very quick replier, it now took hours for the Brit to get a response to the most simplest of questions. Arthur literally had to drag Alfred into a date, when before dates seemed to be all they would do. It was very worrisome, and Arthur had begun to suspect the worst.
Alfred loves you too much. There's no way he's cheating is he? Of course not. You're being ridiculous.
But then again, was It too far-fetched? The American had seemed to be loosing interest in him. Especially since most of their conversations went like this:
"Hey love, how are you?
"fine"
"Where do you want to go?"
"That's great."
"I'm on fire and burning to death.
"Sure, whatever."
Because of this, Arthur threw all he had into spending time with his boyfriend, but no matter what Alfred just seemed bored and uninterested. Like he wasn't even there. It was frustrating. It was infuriating. And Arthur decided he had had enough. He was going to confront Alfred about it one day but then he saw someone in Alfred's arms.
And all that worry turned into pure rage.