Chapter Six.
1:00am.
Alfred dropped the alarm clock in frustration and turned over, eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to fool his body and mind into thinking he was asleep.
Naturally, it didn't work.
The American finally rolled onto his back in defeat, his cornflower-blue eyes staring up into the darkness.
He was nervous, he knew it; the only times he couldn't sleep were when he was nervous or anxious for something. It was ridiculous really- he'd always been popular in school, and he was sure he could make a good impression... But what if it was totally different to what he was used to? What if the people thought he was weird because he was American?
What if the classes were too hard for him?
What if—
"Fuck!" Alfred sat up and shook his head vigorously: This was totally pointless. Worrying about that sort of thing wouldn't change anything. With a defeated sigh, Alfred switched on his bedside light and put on his glasses. He looked tiredly around the room, and silently berated himself for having not brought any decent books with him, since that was exactly what he needed at that moment. It was then that his gaze fell upon the desk that sat on the other side of the room from his bed, the wood appearing even richer in colour in the warm light of the little lamp beside him.
Alfred quietly slid out of bed and padded over to it, trying his best to avoid the creaky floorboards beneath his bare feet.
When he reached the desk, Alfred paused for a moment, gently running his hand over the smooth, cold surface. He traced one of the knots in the wood, admiring the way it grew into a rich, dark disc and then seemed to dissipate away, thinning out to nothing. It reminded him of the satellite images of storms on the surface of Jupiter that he'd so loved as a child, back when he'd dreamed of being an astronaut for NASA. He smiled at the memory, trying to quell the ache in his heart that made him long for home and familiarity.
Finally, the American let his deft fingers slide to the handle below the drawer he'd opened that very morning: With a gentle tug, he felt the drawer inch open, its mechanism a little stiffer than the drawer above. Alfred persisted, gently tugging at the metal knob until the drawer was open wide enough to reveal….
More books.
Alfred tried not to be disappointed.
After all, this was what he should've expected- the first drawer was merely a precursor for what was to come… Alfred knelt down onto the hard, cold floor; upon closer inspection, these books were not the same as those in the previous drawer.
No, these were more like notepads.
Interest suddenly piqued, Alfred reached for the top volume, noting that his hands were shaking a little, though whether it was down to anticipation or excitement he couldn't be sure. The book was heavy in his hands, its cover stained and a little faded, but the design was still clearly visible- green threads woven together into the forms of mythical creatures that shone as they caught the light: Graceful unicorns, dragons and elves all shared the threaded canvas with their twisted forms. It was beautiful. After closer inspection, Alfred guessed it wasn't as old as it had first appeared, for when he turned it over to the back cover, the brand name in the bottom corner looked modern enough.
Alfred admired the design again for a few seconds, before opening the heavy cover to the very first page; to his surprise, he found a few lines of very neat handwriting; Alfred squinted to decipher the immaculate lettering- it read 'On a Misty Summer's Night'. There was a date below, also in the same swirling calligraphy.
Alfred got up slowly as he flipped to the next page, which was filled with writing; this was a story, he realised suddenly as his blue eyes scanned the page. As silently as he could manage, Alfred tiptoed back to his bed, tucking himself under the covers with the book right in front of his nose. It didn't take long for him to become totally engrossed in the story, and as the book finally slipped from his hands and onto his peaceful sleeping face, Alfred's dreams were filled with the beautiful creatures from the well-worn pages.