A couple of days later they returned together to the library where they made a card for Arthur for a whole year and Alfred let him wander in the building for an hour before reminding him on the institution's closing time. It was obvious that it was a hard time for Arthur to leave the library, he kept sighing and he was looking at the ground like a child who wanted to go back to the playground. To show his understanding and also to cheer him up a bit, Alfred put his hand on the Englishman's shoulder when they stood at a crossroad and Arthur smiled back at him, calm and peaceful, holding the pouch with five books in his left hand.
The quiet and resigned man knew that without his energetic and so positive employee he wouldn't go to places like these; the library, the tea house and the park...
And the New Year started with the same morning rush just like before, however Alfred expected some change from Arthur. The shop ran in the same routine like before and they haven't talked much during the time before noon. Somehow at that time Arthur seemed to enjoy the simple duties, when Alfred left for lunch he made his own sandwich and did his cross stitching in silence until a customer came.
The new pattern on the white fabric was two cats, one Scottish fold and one Ragdoll cat, sitting beside each other and looking at a flower. The flower was a simple yellow tulip but one small fairy was sitting on the leaf (this tiny creature was the challenge in the whole pattern) and the smaller cat lifted its paw as if pointing at it. When he showed the pattern to him, Alfred smiled in approval.
Even though they functioned perfectly in the shop something made the air tense and for a couple of days Alfred couldn't tell the reason. He paid special attention on his work and Arthur didn't correct him or scolded him for anything in return. The blonde spent most of his time behind the counter, read a book from the library or continued his needlework. Nothing seemed to be wrong but Alfred knew that something was up. Underneath his eyes, Arthur had dark shadows and his complexion was paler than usual. He became off-track more and more often, forgot the requests of the customers or mixed them, these times Alfred had to save the situation and serve the person. Arthur just sat down and sighed.
In the afternoons Alfred sat beside him and watched him work since Arthur was humming peacefully to a song and smiled in his close presence, he always seemed to calm when Alfred was near to him. These times the American leant back to the wall and closed his eyes, imagining himself like this at home, listening to Arthur's soft voice while sitting in a couch, covered in blankets.
. . .
By the end of January Alfred was able to tell that he didn't have any common thing with Sandra anymore. He tried to ask the girl out several times, he tried to invite her to the tea house or to take a walk but she simply refused to accept these attempts. She wanted to go and get drunk with her girls or visit a basketball match to gaze at her favourite basketball player. She made faces when Alfred asked her to go to cinema, telling him that she can download those movies and they can watch it at home as well. For that, the man simply shook his head in resignation because long ago Sandra loved to go to places, and now nothing interested her better than parties, fashion and television programmes. This wasn't the girl he fell in love with, back then. Shallow as the thought was, he felt like he was no longer her hero. Her personality changed and Alfred stayed the same. He was the problem in the relationship, the one who was unable to move on.
When he told this to Arthur, the man paid attention and hummed at some points but never agreed on Alfred's accusation of his own person, being too late or not enough to save his own relationship. Arthur sighed and gave him strict, almost teacher-like looks instead of telling him to stop; but these messages in his eyes expressed the utmost caring and calmness that Alfred felt a strange kind of peacefulness in his heart. It didn't matter how hard he tried to blame his childish and naive side during his time by Arthur's side assured him that he had someone to rely on.
His brother could also reach that level of understanding. Matthew offered to help him if he wanted to go back to his hometown and live there with his mother again until he stands up on his feet after he separates from Sandra.
Arthur asked him questions about his hobbies and his preference among women and when they were sorting the fresh and the hard buns, Alfred told him frankly; he had a thing for blonds and this made the Englishman smile and look fondly at him. Alfred couldn't stop the feeling that grew in his stomach every time Arthur smiled or looked him in the eyes with that accepting and forgiving love he couldn't miss, which made him stay long after closing to tell him his ideas about comic books and their stories in his energetic (mostly demonstrative) way or simply be around him and prepare for the next day. They took long walks around the park and in several streets close to the shop just to be outside and feel the fresh air while Arthur was listening to his stories and often helped him to understand the events better.
In fact, Arthur Kirkland was a great storyteller. After Alfred excitedly told his boss about the latest chapter in his favourite comic book series, it was Arthur's turn to tell a tale of his favourites and the American enjoyed each and every one. During the tales he often bumped into people on the streets and forgot to stop at the lampposts because once Arthur began a tale Alfred felt entirely involved so after a few days of experiencing the same accidents, Arthur suggested to go to the tea house where they could sit down and beside two cups of tea they could enjoy the tales better.
With this idea, their tea house attending routine began and it made Alfred's heart dance every morning on Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning. He knew that in the evening he will meet Arthur personally and not professionally, they will have a great time discussing comic books' stories and original English, Welsh or Irish tales (which Arthur knew by heart). The crew of the tea house remembered them after two weeks and prepared an Earl Grey for Arthur and a simple latte macchiato for Alfred but in a huge cup.
Alfred decided to tell Arthur about the Marvel universe. Once he started talking, there wasn't anything which could have stopped him. These times Arthur often shook his head and held back a smile as the tall and slightly muscular American explained him battleships and galactic relationships among super heroes with an absolutely charming, still childlike enthusiasm but as their discussions went on, he began to babble about the characters' backgrounds.
"That's what his shield looks like!" Alfred brought up a picture of Captain America's famous shield on his smartphone and handed the device to Arthur. "It's from an alien element called 'vibranium', stronger than diamonds and it has special power. It can cast or dodge all kinds of attack, let it be bullets, lasers or anything."
"This sounds interesting though a bit cliché." Arthur said, handing back the small phone before looking back at his teacup, "It's easier to make up a new element than digging into chemistry, isn't it? Oh, the beauty of artistic license."
Alfred continued, his hands moving wildly as he spoke."Captain America was created in the second World War - I mean, in the story. The nation needed someone to look up to. That was the original idea, at least, but then you know, marketing. Now he's a part of the Avengers crew. A real leader!"
"In other words, he is like every other superhero, then. Getting DNA-manipulated, longevity, reliability, urge to save the world and protect the innocent, tall and muscular like a body builder..."
"In the movie he is not." Alfred lifted his index finger to call his friend's attention and he began typing in his phone again. "That's the great thing which I love about the movies, the men are not all steroid-addicted dumbasses, like, Steve isn't stupid at all."
"Right. But, in the comics, he…" Alfred rolled his eyes at that before letting a slight smile on his lips.
"In the comics he isn't stupid either but in the movie, they show his human side."
"There's a Captain America movie?" Arthur tilted his head on the right before leaning forward to look on the screen of Alfred's phone. "I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose. Hollywood is always releasing new superhero films. Hm. I can't say that I'm terribly interested in watching it, but it's much easier to watch a dull film than to listen to your whining."
Alfred blinked a couple of times before believing his own ears, and what he heard from Arthur's lips. For some seconds he couldn't come up with a proper answer either; just cleared his throat and looked up on the man in front of him, surprised and still hesitating. "You would like to watch Captain America?"
Arthur nodded with confidence in his green eyes, then with a light shrug he lifted his cup to his mouth. "I'm not doing it for your sake, of course. One has to be open-minded, after all."
"Good!" The Englishman's eyes snapped open in surprise as Alfred cheered on the other side of the table. "The first we'll watch Captain America, then Incredible Hulk - er, the second version, that is. The first version was kinda lame. Then, we'll watch Iron Man, Iron Man 2, then Thor, and then Avengers and the Green Lantern and all the Spiderman trilogy - well, maybe not the last one of the Spiderman trilogy - and then the deleted scenes..."
"May God give me patience for all that." Arthur rolled his eyes as he put his jaw in his palm, secretly finding it sweet as the twenty-four year old man counted all the movies he wanted to watch. "So, that is...?"
"Nine movies and the deleted scenes!"
"If it's like that we should start after closing and take it slow, like, one movie each day." The older man sighed at the pouting, begging face of the boy. "Don't sulk you git, I can't sit that much in front of the telly!"
"Yeah, sure, but when it's your stupid needlework, you can sit for days."
Arthur frowned and pounded his fist on the table. "Don't you dare calling it stupid!"
"Alright, alright..." Alfred averted his eyes from his friends, folding his arms and pouting. As Arthur watched him for a couple of seconds he couldn't take the man's childish behaviour, just from the look of his strong, now flexing arms and his broad shoulders. He didn't resemble a child no matter how he tried so he continued his quiet rambling. "Of course, after you watch one movie you'll say you're so tired and you can't watch anything else so I'll have to go home and when you will be relaxed again, you'll watch the rest without me."
"Trust me, I don't watch that Hollywood rubbish by myself."
"Hey!" At that high-pitched voice, other guests of the tea house turned to look at them and Arthur hid his eyes and forehead with his palm in embarrassment. This boy will ruin his standing in society. "They aren't trash. You haven't even watched them!"
"And there is a reason for that."
"Fine. If you're that stuck up, then I'll stop hanging out with you."
A couple of seconds had passed till both of them calmed enough and Arthur knew he had gone too far in sarcasm. Probably the English irony was beyond Alfred and it would be fine if he wasn't hurt by hearing it... but he was. Clearly, as he looked on the American and saw his resigned, sulking eyes averted to the ground and to the cup in front of him, Arthur let the air out of his lungs with a content, accepting smile on his lips. He tried to reach out for Alfred but the man pulled his arms away from his touch and seeing the genuinely hurt, resigned sadness in those sky-blue eyes, the blond man bowed his head before he stood up and took Alfred's hand in his. The boy swallowed before taking a short glance up on his friend, then shrugged. "What?"
"Look, I want to watch the films with you, all right?"
Alfred sighed. "Mh... All right. We'll watch them for a week because an old man like you can't stay in front of the TV for too long."
Arthur frowned again and held back a retort. "O...okay." He took a deep breath before answering, keeping his voice calm as far as he could. Beside a grown-up man he never expected himself to let the other have his joy over such simple things, but Alfred's eyes were still avoiding him in such manner which didn't let Arthur's heart shrug it off. Good Heavens, he always lost the battles against sad puppy-eyes.
"Alright. I will watch the movies with you, but it would be easier if we watch one movie every evening, so we can discuss them, and not have to run out the night of and get the next one. What do you think?"
Alfred mumbled something under his breath. Then, without much hesitation, he turned their hands over so now he was holding on Arthur's upper hand, caressing the skin with his thumb as he did before. Maybe this offer was acceptable for his pride and childish self and he agreed on starting the marathon on Friday evening after closing the shop. Arthur nodded and let out a sigh while he shook his head. Alfred still avoided his gaze because, as he murmured, Arthur stole his idea.
. . .
It was easier to send Alfred to the post office or to the city hall, to handle official papers and before Arthur could have explained to himself the reason for that, Alfred already guessed and told him; the people remembered him after a few encounters and they trusted him enough, not to check the contains of the envelopes on the spot. The boy loved to befriend people, not only costumers but office workers as well and this affected their work in general. The more friends Alfred made on his way, the more people came in to say brief 'hello' to him and to Arthur, occasionally buying something from them. Not so surprisingly, most of these new friends of Alfred were... girls.
As if someone could stop him when his cool mode switched on? Arthur let his head fall and cover his eyes or clutched at his temple as if he had terrible headache when the younger man openly flirted with a girl in front of him, somehow with this ridiculous game of his, making Arthur jealous. When he was at work, he shouldn't play around after all. This was a bakery, not a dating service!
"Don Juan, don't forget you have some things to do over here!" He reminded the boy from time to time, and by addressing him like that he made the girl chatting with Alfred blush, while Alfred played cute, shrugged his shoulders, and went back to work.
"Right, right, no need to be so impatient." He said, taking the huge wooden box in his hands to carry it back on the corridor.
"You, and your ridiculousness. Look what you have done! When we're about to close, three girls are waiting for you outside to entertain them. I shall open a circus with you instead of a bakery shop."
"Come on Artie, you're just jealous."
The Englishman tried to articulate a retort but his voice failed him; instead he felt his cheeks burn and all he could do was to slap the taller man's shoulder.
"I'm not!"
"Yes, you are. I bet you don't know how to compliment a girl! Your early years must have been tough, huh?"
That comment, as far Arthur was concerned, warranted another slap on the shoulder.
…
On Thursday evening, Arthur opened his William Shakespeare collection and turned to the opening page of Henry IV with a couple of sheets of paper beside him on the table. He had to find retorts and names for this twit, but not some colloquial slang words. Not that he tried to impress the young American, but to encourage him to read actually worthy literature and improve his vocabulary. The next day was Friday and as well as writing small notes for himself, Arthur decided to clean up and provide a neat atmosphere to his flat by the time Alfred will be there.
He didn't understand himself. It was the first time that Alfred had fun with an other person in front of him, and he felt completely bewildered, he couldn't take his eyes off the girl and from Alfred's face. That annoying brat face of his, beaming and blabbering all the time.
In his reasonably offended scoffing Arthur didn't pay attention enough as he was vacuuming the carpet in front of the television, almost letting one of his flower-pots fall from the bookshelf. His fumbling was also Alfred's fault without question. The fairies were nodding too.
By the time he was done with the laundry and the dusting of the shelves his dinner got burnt but he ate it anyway. That's why he never cooked for himself, if there was a distraction and he completely forgot about the oven. Alfred's fault.
As he was chewing nervously on his slightly burnt food and watched the fairies play mid-air, Arthur moaned something which sounded like; "insufferable git" before shaking his head in frustration. Back then Francis had the same habit, standing in the costumer's area, chatting with girls and in the end they bought a lot of things because Francis convinced them without noticing it, but Alfred?
Arthur held back a yawn as he looked at the clock to see it was already around eight in the evening and he was still nowhere in his job. He had to clear his clothes and books from the sofa, clean and re-clean the bathroom... It was so troublesome to have a guest, after almost two years, Arthur thought. Worse still, he was the idiot who offered Alfred to come his flat. He had no one to blame but himself.
While eating, he decided to check some issues from those blasted comic books as well, because he didn't want to sound like an old man from the prehistoric times. It's not as though he was interested in reading the silly things. Of course not.
. . .
The Friday morning came abruptly as Alfred switched his alarm off and prepared to dress. For that day he decided to wear a black long-sleeved tee with dark blue shirt on it besides his jeans. Normally he would ask Sandra about his looks and if he did fit for the workplace's morale but since she was still asleep, Alfred decided to let her rest for the morning. It was the day before the weekend, and even if Sandra was nagging about the idea, he wanted to take the girl to see the roller-skaters in the suburbs. She loved doing this when they were in Rochester and maybe she would start doing sports with him again if she saw some people actually doing things. If this plan would work, they could go jogging together again.
But Alfred sighed when he opened the fridge and found his bottle of cocoa empty. Sandra drank his chocolate milk during the night even though she knew, Alfred needed it every morning. The previous night he found all of his clothes taken out from the washing machine, still wet, because she needed to wash her uniform for a party, held by the company she worked for. Now all of his clothes were in the bedroom, waiting for the ironing some time at the weekend.
As revenge he put Sandra's ready-made sandwiches and her iced tea in his backpack before putting his jumper and the hardware with the movies in there as well. She deserved it... after living together for two years she should know that the morning couldn't start without his chocolate milk, and if she decided to start a passive aggressive warfare against him, who was Alfred to stop her? He'll definitely drag her along to watch football Saturday night, instead of going out with her "girls." Alfred almost imitated the way Sandra pronounced the word but he silenced himself quickly and left the apartment.
Even if his morning started with some resentment, seeing Arthur sweeping the pavement in front of his shop made Alfred's heart dance happily in his chest and he almost crossed the road without paying attention to the lamp. Arthur wore his usual black jeans with leather shoes, but under the coat he wore light green shirt with a darker vest and this composition brought the lively and gorgeous emerald shade of his eyes along with his shiny, hay-blond hair. Noticing Alfred on the way, the Englishman waved at him but Alfred could see that his boss had already planned some tasks for him to do that day, judging from his frown with those heavy eyebrows and how stiff his lips were. He looked paler than usual and Alfred couldn't miss the shadows beneath his eyes either, but decided not to say anything about it.
"Morning, Arthur!" He greeted the man with a bright smile on his face, ready to seize the day as he was.
"Morning, morning, now change your clothes and get to work. Yesterday you left all the remaining buns on the shelves and didn't collect the breadcrumbs. When I wanted to wash up this morning, the cloth got totally ruined I think we have to buy a new one," grumbled the blonde, following him in the shop and put the broom in its place.
"Finally, it was very old anyway," smiled Alfred back at the smaller man, but Arthur seemed to be in a grumpy mood that morning.
"Should I deduct it from your paycheck then? Don't be careless if you are here, perfection and attention run the best business and you are supposed to know that already. You've been working here for almost half a year. It's simple logic, Alfred!"
"Alright, alright. Whatever, Eyebrows." The taller man just waved at his friend after unzipping his jacket and hanging it on the wall, but when he reached to get his apron his eyes met the Englishman's, and he nearly jumped to the wall in panic. "Jesus Christ, what is it?!"
Arthur held his fists beside his sides and had such an expression on his face which could have been envied by a mad lion. The smaller, but not so much weaker man stepped closer to Alfred, who took his back pack in front of himself as if it could protect him from a flaming Kirkland. "Jeez, what did I say? What have I done? I'm sorry!"
"Do not dare to call me Eyebrows, or I swear to bloody hell I'm going to kick your arse out of the shop!"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Will you remember not to call me that with your tom-tit sized brain?!"
"Yes, yes! I'm sorry!"
"Now get to work!" The boy disappeared from his sight, tying his apron on his back in the split of the second before starting to clean the shelves at record speed while Arthur leaned at the doorway of the costumer's area and massaged his temple with his fingers of his left hand, hugging his side with the right. "You... insufferable brat. Don't let any of them fall, okay?"
This is how their day started on a Friday, in the end of January... on the day when things began to change and either of them knew actually who held the steering wheel anymore. For an hour or so Alfred looked at his friend like a traumatized, kicked puppy with such eyes that often Arthur thought about himself as a cruel and horrible person. How could he hurt Alfred in such way, how could he talk to him in such terrible manners? Poor boy, he kept the shop in perfect cleanness and did the chores without asking for them (alright, accidents happened) so all Arthur had to do was to serve the costumers and check the cash register.
Although he had definitely harrowed Alfred's feelings in the morning the man sat beside him during lunch-break and looked at him, checking Arthur's food and the way he ate but when a new costumer entered, his eyes kindled and he sprang up to help the person in need.
Around three in the afternoon, Arthur doubted if an energetic and hyperactive Alfred was worse than a sad and hurt Alfred?
He even let Alfred go out early for donuts, as if the American's diet wasn't unhealthy enough. How could someone eat like that for long?
When the time to close approached the clock, Arthur shook his head affectionately and let the man change his clothes and have a cup of coffee first, so this time he started to clean the shop, leaving Alfred to pull himself together. Fridays were always exhausting and now they prepared to watch movie together... as the blonde realized the situation, his eyes lit up and looked back to the corridor which led to the storage and the changing room. "Alfred?"
"Coming!"
"No, I just wanted to ask, that... did you bring the movies?" The man's voice came from the back of the building, a bit distant but Arthur understood it.
"Sure thing, man. I promised, after all."
Great. Now he'll lead him up the stairs and show him around in the flat. Luckily he could finish sorting and cleaning yesterday so there wouldn't be any "inappropriate objects" left in the living room.
When Alfred appeared in the hallway Arthur put the mop aside and watched as the young man made his looks perfect; caressed the shirt down on his sides to prevent them from crinkling, stroked his hair on the left side and checked his jaw with his fingers too... the scene was somehow too familiar to Arthur but before he could draw parallels with the past, Alfred took his backpack and signalled to be ready. "Shall we, then?"
"Sure. This way."
Arthur stepped aside the American and led him to the narrow line of stairs which led up to his apartment; that staircase was his secret entrance to the bakery every morning. That place was small and narrow. For a second, Arthur was wondering if the tiny space was comfortable for Alfred to follow him, but when he opened the dark green wooden door to enter the flat, he heard Alfred gasp almost silently behind his back.
As they stepped inside, Arthur guided his friend and showed him where to put his shoes and jacket, and offered him a pair of slippers for the time being. As the young man looked around, Arthur was flattered and quite glad with the sight that welcomed him. Of course, after a few instructions his friend made his way in the living room while he walked in the kitchen to put some water in the kettle. He saw Alfred, putting his backpack on the sofa and pulling a small black device out of it he turned to the television and looked for the remote, probably. Arthur didn't have much experience with this kind of technology but he was certain that Alfred must have known what he did.
In fact the man sat up the system quite easily and told him, according to the plan they'll start with Captain America and by hearing the title, Arthur's mind rushed back to all the information he gained from the previous night's secret comic book readings. Of course he warned the enthusiastic lad about the fact that until his tea was not done, he wouldn't make himself comfortable so they had to wait a few minutes. Alfred accepted this and leant back on the sofa.
When Alfred asked for popcorn, and Arthur turned back at him with raised eyebrows and with a confused look on his face, the American pouted.
"You don't have popcorn and you want to watch a movie? Why?" He whined, but the Englishman shook his head in response.
"Why would I have popcorn with me if I don't like it?"
"You invited me over and you're acting selfish. I like popcorn! Most people do! Why do you only think about yourself?"
"Alfred, start this movie already. I promise next time that we will have popcorn for you."
"I like buttered popcorn, by the way," Alfred added. He pushed the Play button on the remote control. For a couple of minutes both of them were silent as the movie showed its beginning scenes but soon Arthur found himself somehow a bit... bored. Though the storyline was something that he could predict and heard it already, watching it and seeing Alfred absolutely involved in the story did worth the time. Yes, the movie did have some interesting scenes but all in all the plot was everything that a Hollywood-made film needed; a weak guy who struggled to defend justice and freedom, he was righteous and caring - and suddenly, he became the hero and saviour of a whole nation.
Arthur tilted his head on the left as he examined Steve Rogers' character from a closer point of view. On the inside, the guy remained a boy who was still afraid of women and he was naive to realize their attempts, he was enthusiastic in his job and... yes, he did have a crush on his workplace. However he did his best in organizing the actions and carrying home victory with his friends as if he came home from a football match, Arthur found it curious in the movie that besides his personality and his gained super-human strength, Steve wasn't good in anything else.
"Seems like this super-soldier is a bit flat in character," he commented, when Steve just dodged a dozen of the enemy's attacks, and from his peripheral vision he could see Alfred's head shaking in disagreement.
"Look closer."
Arthur clicked with his tongue and took the pillow from behind his back into his arms, while Alfred shifted and pulled his legs beside himself, pulling his shoulder down from the arm of the sofa and he sighed when he found his most comfortable position; adjusting his feet to Arthur's thighs and hugged his sides. The two remained in silence for a great amount of time after this, for which Arthur was thankful and tried to find those hidden points that Alfred already knew. He shouldn't have been surprised at that; the man has probably seen this movie a couple of times before.
"So..." He wished to start elaborating on the idea aloud, but the American interrupted him.
"Shhh!"
"Alright."
The story continued in a pretty dynamic way and Arthur found himself frowning when Steve got in trouble in the base of the enemy's leadership; even though he looked prepared and calm enough to hold his composure. The arch enemy's identity, now seeming to reveal made him gasp quietly and the Briton bit his lower lip in confusion. Will this lead to an identity crisis for Steve, it is such a cliché that it would be almost expected... to be an experiment for the government...
"Alfred?"
"Shh."
"No, wait..."
"Shh."
"But—"
"Dude, please pay attention. This is serious!"
Arthur blinked a couple of times before taking in a sharp breath. Did Alfred just silence him because of the movie? It was serious? Well then!
"You see, he explains it now."
Oh.
"He has something that most people lack."
"Let me guess, pureness, honesty and he is righteous?"
"You clearly didn't pay attention."
At that point Arthur frowned and turned his head to try and face the other, but Alfred was still laying on his side and hugged himself, eyes fixed on the screen and he just blinked every now and then. The blonde's heart sank as he saw something dark, almost bitter but very much sullen expression of his friend, his eyes were sorrowful and disappointed for some reason.
"The doctor said it a couple of times," the man continued, carefully timing his sentence when the characters on the screen were silent, "Steve has heart. He didn't join to the military for fame and success." He was silent for a couple of seconds again, when Arthur averted his eyes from his shape but looked down and saw those black socks pressed to his legs.
"Steve didn't join the military to work out or to have salary. He volunteered around ten times before, you saw." He said.
"Yes."
"Okay." Alfred cleared his throat, now closing his eyes for a couple of seconds before continuing, "He wanted to be accepted because he wanted to go and fight. He didn't want to hurt anyone, but stop the madness in the world. He wanted to put an end to war, even if this means sacrificing himself. You can say that he took the serum to make himself better, but if you look at it, he made a tool of himself. He was a tool to get money, then a tool to carry out victorious missions. And he didn't think about his soul at all, nor his parents or anyone. He wanted to go and save people, no matter what. He ran into that factory, and saved his best friend from a burning and self-destroying complex."
Arthur bit his lower lip in confusion as he watched the man laying beside him and he couldn't miss the way Alfred swallowed before taking a deep breath, now forcing himself to blink and keep his lips in a straight line.
"Steve is not famous for being righteous or I don't know... pure. He killed people, he destroyed things. He never said he was pure. At times, when he stayed in silence he kept his opinion for himself. But he never gave up on himself; he never stopped being Steve Rogers for the sake of anything. He tried to be there for his friends and when he was hurt, he didn't want to bother anyone with his pain."
"Alfred."
"I'm saying that Steve is much more than a super-soldier. He is loyal to the most fundamental principles of his life, and you will see later, he is the one who can stand up anytime, and run into buildings to save people. No matter how injured or exhausted he is. If there is someone in need, Steve Rogers' will not waste a minute to come and save the person. No matter how injured he is."
The Englishman hummed in agreement, even though his gaze was wandering on different dimensions of sight by then. Listening to Alfred's slow and so deliberate explanation, his attention was drawn from the happenings in the movie to a much more frequent phenomenon that lay right in front of him. In the sunset, Alfred's hair gained an almost glowing shade of gold, above his ears it was still darker, like honey. The man's shape slightly shifted as the younger man pushed himself on his back and looked directly in Arthur's emerald green eyes, telling him all by his gaze, sometimes looking down the place when their bodies met, and then he sighed. "I'm being sentimental, right?"
Arthur felt as a weak, but content smile crept up on his lips on the one side. "Definitely."
"I've always been."
"It's alright to be."
Alfred turned his head towards the screen again, leaving his hands on his flat stomach for some time before swallowing hard again. "I expected something like, 'yes, you childish idiot, blabbering about these silly American movies..."
"I guess, if we arrive to my favourites, you would hear the same blabbering."
"Oh." Alfred smiled at that, turning back on his back and nodded upwards, as if telling Arthur to go on. "And what is your favourite?"
"Doctor Who. Obviously."
"You're as British as they come, aren't you?" Alfred said with a laugh. Arthur frowned and almost spoke up loud when he noticed the mischievous smirk that Alfred had by the time he was about to tell him off. As the seconds passed by and both of them were smiling, Arthur ducked his head and shook it affectionately before looking up on the man again, who was now mocking him by pulling his left eyebrows up. He was acting almost like he was asking for some retort.
"Idiot."
"And because of you, slowpoke, we have to watch the previous ten minutes over again."
"Really now!"
. . .
To Be Continued.
A/N: I would like to say thank you to everyone who is reading the story. I'm sorry for the long break, I bet all ff writers are apologizing as well. :D
Please leave me reviews, it always help to continue when I see feedback, let it be good or bad. :3
I'd like to say a huge thank you, specially to my beta. Without her, I don't know where this story would be. XOXOXO
