The air outside was chilly and cold, even though it was February already... by the time he arrived home, the horizon was dark and spotted with thousands of shiny sparks even though Arthur didn't care to wonder what sentiments they could have brought to his mind normally. If it was another evening. He quickly opened the door but as he stepped in the silent and still air, suddenly all that surrounded him slowed down in time and motion as if someone pushed a button to let his mind wander around the evening and all that happened to him in the tea house. His gaze stilled in the empty space and the forest green eyes stared numbly for long moments.

As slowly as the realization formed in his mind, that there was a chance of change, a change which would finally mean a tiny spark of a brighter future in his life, Arthur closed the door behind himself. For a couple of moments the whole idea seemed so clear, almost tangible until he looked up on the ceiling and spotted the small, weak light bulb. It was supposed to light the staircase which led up to his flat but since the bulb was heavily surrounded by cobwebs and lots of dust, it barely gave enough light, just a dim view of the steps. He should change it soon... but by the time he lingered on the surprising ideas that he had in mind, the whole seemed foolish and just a waste of hope. He had better things to do... like changing a light bulb on the corridor so he wouldn't fall on his face.

The flat was still and quiet just like he left it in the morning but this wasn't always like that. He flipped the lights on before taking his jacket and shoes off accompanied by his tired sighs, and then walked to the kitchen to open the fridge and seek some edible food in there. He didn't want to cook, he bitterly grimaced when he thought about the whole stuff; he just wanted to sit down on the couch and probably read something, spend the evening in peace and quietness... but when he prepared to do this his mind protested for some reason in a very annoying way; even though he read the sentences twice or three times, he couldn't get the meaning of the phrases. The words didn't reach his conscious which made Arthur make an annoyed face and sigh tiredly before lying down on the couch and cover his face with his hands.

He found himself quite frustrated and he couldn't tell the reason for it. He was worrying for Alfred of course, but the man was a grown-up just like him, and had to solve his problems on his own... he knew it wasn't easy like that.

There was something around the young man that didn't let Arthur's thoughts rest for a minute. Something in Alfred caught him and Arthur didn't know what it was precisely (beside the cliché still respectably attractive attributes of the man), however this evening had brought many surprises that he didn't assume about his friend. Tragically, one of this was the death of Alfred's father... he shook the woeful memories off his mind and let a resigned sigh out of his lungs before another thought crept its way into his attention.

Alfred was about to break up. Arthur shook his head with a sorrowful sigh and hummed in contentment as one light green fairy pretended to sit still beside him. The small creature acted as if she was watching the television screen (even though it was switched off) and when Arthur put his hand next to her, she flew up and decided to land on the top of the man's head. These little carefree things always helped his thoughts to lighten up, but this time even the presence of the tiny lady was insignificant to the blonde. Alfred was in trouble, he was ending a serious relationship which he struggled to save, but his own condition was the biggest obstacle of that, beside many other factors as well... the operation.

That, of which Arthur knew nothing about.

He hummed at the notion that Alfred might have many other secrets in front of him that he will never want to share still Arthur furrowed his brows slightly in disagreement since he really would have liked to know his friend's condition. Maybe he should pay more attention to him during the day or take some tasks out of his hands. If he knew what Alfred had to deal with, he could help and care about him better... but... for how long?

Arthur sucked in his breath and closed his eyes bitterly. Oh... right. Alfred moved in this town for his girlfriend only. If he breaks up...

The blond man didn't want to finish the train of thoughts. He didn't want to hear it from his own mind, from his self, that this all will be over. But again, why would Alfred stay? His family lives in Rochester... and there, since he grew up in that city, he could find a job easily... if he breaks up, he will look for comfort at his family, for sure... why would he turn to his boss for help? Why would he stay for him?

Arthur shook his head to clear his mind a little and calm his raging emotions. He had to take a deep breath, and actually talk to himself loud. "Calm down, Kirkland. Think a little."

What options did Alfred have? The obvious or the one Arthur would have liked better?

"It's okay, just think. Logic first, then emotions."

Alfred came to Rhode Island because Sandra asked him to, he had a hard time here to find a job, he barely knows anyone outside of the shop and Sandra's friends. He doesn't go to the gym or with Sandra to parties to meet people. He had enough of that, as he put it. His family is at home...

But... what if Arthur could convince him to pick a local chick that he likes? He... he would take him to... places that Francis showed him back then (hopefully they were still there) and perhaps Alfred would find someone as a reason to stay... Arthur let a sorrowful and resigned sigh out of his lips and brushed his unruly hair with his fingers to ease the desperation.

Why the panic? So what, Alfred would go home, and Arthur would stay...? He would continue the shop like before, and probably hire anothe—No. He wouldn't hire anyone. He would rather suffer alone than having someone else than Alfred... and at that, another idea stuck his mind and he tilted his head on the left, considering the spark in his mind.

What if Alfred would stay? What would happen...? He would be bitter and sad for a some time, disappointed in himself for having a ruined relationship behind his back but after a while he would move on and find a girl. Arthur wiped his eyes with his fingers to erase his heavy and piercing emotions just for a little more. Alfred would find a girl, would date her, then... leave with her, start a family and talk about her all day and be all lovey-dovey and that thought made Arthur sick. Once again, the bare idea of seeing other people having perfect lives and happiness, finding love and peace annoyed him to no end; while he sat in the weakly lit rooms alone every night, wondering about the past, the future... no matter how selfish and jealous he was these times, Arthur couldn't chase these darkening clouds away.

"No," he didn't want that torture to happen to himself, but finding someone again would be good for Alfred, he could see himself as a valuable person once again... he would stand up and be his old self, probably... Arthur cleared his throat to push that lump down and take another deep breath. He wanted Alfred to be happy, nothing else mattered... but he didn't want the other to forget him.

He wiped his eyes once more as if there was dirt in them and he winced when the pictures and fantasies filled his mind. Alfred, leaving with a girl for evenings; the tea parties together would cease quicker than he could actually notice anything, all because Alfred would be busy with the girl. One side of Arthur would blame him, get insulted by being neglected, maybe keep distance from him because Alfred would chit-chat with that girl, about everything then come and tell how proud and carefree he is with this newfound love.. and the distance between him and Arthur would grow and expand day by day.

Evidently Arthur would have to listen, because he was a good friend. Watch it, maybe observe it, imagine how good it was to be hugged once again, to feel close to someone once again, to feel warmth once again... and all expressed affection would remind him that these simple things are impossible and unreachable for eternity. He is left lone and all he has left is the shop to run. By himself, but if that means to maintain the business, he had to manage it all. Whatever life brought him.

Maybe it would be better if he left...

That was too much. Arthur stood up so fast that the tiny fairy tumbled off his head, fell in the air and got so scared that it fled back to the flowerpots to hide among the leaves. Arthur's fingers ached in the tight grip of his fists as he searched for his sane thoughts to see clearly again, above his sentiments.

Since when did he care so much about Alfred? Since when did he feel so dependent on him? He could go on for one and a half years without Alfred, he could do that again!

Who is he trying to deceive...?

Arthur sighed and walked in the kitchen to put the kettle on and prepare the tea egg but it was just a temporary distraction before his thoughts found him once again. The house remained silent and motionless and the ticking sound of the clocks echoed gloomily in the darkness since except for the living room, all lights were out. He was alone, and this time even if he tried to recall the feeling, he could hardly feel any better. The memory of Francis gave just a moment of peace before the thought of loneliness crept its way up to him once again.

It will be just like that. Francis left, now Alfred will be leaving too. Sooner, or later. He will.

And he'll remain alone till his end; it was determined to be like that.

To practically force his mind into concentration Arthur chose to continue the flower-pot embroidery pattern. He focused so hard on the little cubes of the linen that he even bit the tip of his tongue and furrowed his brows in such serious manner that Alfred would have fallen down of a chair from laughing. No, he didn't want to think about him. It would make things worse than they already were.

He didn't realize the time crawling slowly on the clock until the sound of the doorbell nearly caused him a heart attack. Arthur dropped his needle on the floor and in the sudden urge to find the small object the pillow in his lap fell to the ground with the linen and the thread as well. He gritted his teeth to hold back his sharp tongue from calling the intruder rude names since he had no idea who it was. Right.

Quick as he could, he collected his items from the floor and put them on the sofa then he stood up and strode to the windows but before pulling the curtains apart to look out; he pushed his back to the wall and peeked on the entrance of the house beside the fabric. He saw a man with two huge bags aside and a backpack on his shoulder. For the split of the second he frowned but then noticed how the lights of the streetlamp glowed on the golden hair of the guest...

Arthur's eyes widened in shock when he recognised the person; he pushed himself away from the wall and ran to the door to run down the stairs and open the front door too.

He had thousands of questions in his mind. What happened? Did he do it? Why did he bring bags? Why is he at his door? Did Sandra throw him out? Did she hurt him bad? Did they actually fight?..

..but all these thoughts cease to exist once Arthur opened the door of entrance and his gaze met two crushingly hurt and deeply sunk blue eyes, shining so sorrowfully that Arthur couldn't help but force his mind to slow down and he licked his lower lips in uncertainty. Alfred blinked, only to let his backpack fall to the ground and avert his eyes from his friend's figure.

He did it. And she threw him out in the night... he had nowhere to go. The time froze for the two friends in that very moment until Alfred gathered his voice to speak.

"Can I... can I stay at your place for a while?"

Oh Lord, Arthur thought, one hand still holding the door. The seconds of their silence grew into a miserable minute until Arthur kept searching Alfred's gaze and the answers in those ocean blue wells but the man couldn't hold the contact between their eyes. The smaller blonde after slowly realizing the entire situation of their meeting, gasped and with his green eyes wide open, he pulled the other into a tight and reassuring hug. The spectacled stumbled a bit: he dropped the other huge bag beside him and after a moment of perplexity, he gave in. His breaths were weak and trembling attempts at Arthur's hair and ear as he tightened his fingers into a fist. The other though, keeping him close and patting his shoulder after a while, even if his heart was breaking for his friend as well, hummed in relief when he felt Alfred's strong and confident hands embracing his back as well.

"Man, I don't know where I'd be without you," the younger bit his lower lip in order to control his shaky breaths and weak voice, like wounded and hopeless man would.

"No need to be devastated. Come inside, make yourself at home."

Alfred nodded at the last, still not leaving their posture but lowered his forehead on Arthur's shoulder to rest his head and mind there, letting his eyes shut and finally his thoughts arriving to a peaceful harbour. He knew Arthur would help him through this, he knew it in his bones... even through the quarrels he felt it inside as a calming notion, common sense and general logic. Arthur will be there for him, whatever happens.

. . .

Arthur had to admit: he didn't have guests for more than two years. When the realization struck him that he needed a clean and nice blanket, give a couple of his pillows, make place for Alfred's clothes and his stuff in the bathroom, he felt disorganized and puzzled. It was a sudden and rare occasion and it was Alfred! He definitely had to do his best.

He gave him a nice duvet with a nice cover of lavender flower pattern (that one was brought from his home actually), two pillows, one pair of flip-flops as Alfred called them because he seemed to feel better by the packing activity and establishing his new comfort place; put his mugs on the counter with his medicines, put the guitar in the corner beside the telly, collected his shoes in the entrance and the list could go on... all these which were completely missed from Arthur's life for two years. Living with someone again, even for a few days or a week suddenly seemed terrifying. He had to look after himself, not throw his dirty underwear in front of the laundry door but actually bring it in the basket, wash the dishes more frequently, clean more frequently, buy more food, not yawn freely as he did until now...

Even if Alfred was a man and his friend, Arthur felt the obligation to live up to his dignity and reputation, being an Englishman and Alfred's boss. Alright, he didn't have to pretend to like tea or enjoying to talk about the weather, he already had a special place in his heart for these activities... but how would Alfred accept him on the personal level...?

The flat and Arthur's inner storms seemed to quiet down after one or two hours of sorting and packing clothes and accessories of living, re-arranging the sofa in the living room and take the spare reading lamp from the storage... and Alfred laid down on the sofa, covered himself with the blanket up to his neck and like every time they watched TV, he pushed his feet to Arthur's thigh while the man was reading his Rutherford novel. The scene could be peaceful and idyllic if Alfred wasn't so silent... he just laid beside Arthur, held the blanket close and stared in the empty space, sometimes blinked... and the Englishman tried really hard to think of something which might lure his friend's thoughts away.

"Would you like to watch a movie?" He tried, he attempted to sound hoping and cheerful a little bit but Alfred closed his eyes and shook his head a little, then sniffed in the blanket. Arthur didn't get any spoken reply but he didn't intend to give up this easily.

"Then, maybe, you could install your PlayStation on my telly."

Alfred frowned for a couple of seconds, Arthur believed to see a little interest in him as he glanced on the television but the answer turned out to be the same as before. The spectacled man shook his head, and with the duvet pressed to his nose, took a deep breath. The steady ticking sound of the clock on the wall went on Arthur's nerves very fast in this unbearable dim silence, so he bit his lip from the inside to think harder...

"Did you bring your books too? You can read here with me if you want!"

"I don't want to," the low grunt of the sullen man broke Arthur's early hope.

"Then what do you want to do?"

The American sniffed again, closed his eyes for a second then looked back on the blonde, after a moment of consideration. "I wanna be here. Like this. 's good like this."

Well... maybe it was for the better to leave him lying there beside him...? Arthur unintentionally hummed and frowned upon the events and looked at the feet of the other, being pressed to the side of his thighs. The feet of the man were covered by the blanket but Arthur could feel and see that Alfred's toes were curled and as the grown-up, adult man pulled the blanket up even to his ears and sniffed in the fluffy linen of it, Arthur rolled his eyes in defeat. Alfred didn't want to play, or watch movies. Didn't want to read, nor have a discussion about anything. And here he thought, Alfred would manage this break-up as a mature man would...?

Arthur shook his head slowly and sighed before putting his book aside and put his hand on Alfred's shins to grab the attention of the other; he even cleared his throat and shifted an inch or two away from the taller man. The plan seemed to work, though the American frowned and grunted in dissatisfaction that Arthur had moved from the comfortable spot. He fidgeted some to push his feet to the other's thighs once again but for this he had to move as well, pull the pillow with his head and curl his toes with the blanket to have the same position from before. That made the older man raise an eyebrow curiously, a half-smile curling on his lips and he shifted away another inch to see the next reaction... but by this he went too far.

"You gotta hate me too, right?!" Arthur gasped and the innocent smile disappeared from his lips in the split of the second but Alfred just sat up, threw the blanket beside him and covered his face in his palms to hide his expression from the outside world. The blonde closed his eyes in sorrow and regret. He didn't want to hurt Alfred with this little game but he underestimated the pain in his friend's soul... he made a terrible mistake by misinterpreting the signs of a wounded man.

He quickly shifted to move beside him and in his embarrassment he grabbed his own knees and squeezed them, unable to say a word for seconds... Alfred sighed, defeated and exhausted light was seen in his eyes and this made Arthur's blaming on his self even worse. He glanced on the floor resignedly although his mind raced to find an apology until Alfred shook his head slowly and looked at his friend.

"Look, I... I'm sorry, I was playing," the smaller man admitted, still unable to lift his gaze to meet the sky-blue eyes of the other, only glancing at his feet in the dark-blue socks. "I didn't want to hurt you, Alfred. I'm sorry..."

The dark-blonde slowly nodded while his hands grabbed his own knees as well before sniffing in the cold air with his nose. He didn't expect Arthur to be so worked up on his misery... it was surprising to see and feel his caring but it filled him with a strange kind of perplexity. He didn't know what to say or do; his mind could only gather bits and pieces of thoughts, mumbling something like Arthur's muffled name and the fragments of "it's okay"... but then the man looked in his eyes and Alfred was swallowed up in the jaded regret which was mixed with the will to help and care. His heart sank and he had to swallow in order to resist the temptation to lift his hand and pull the other close.

"Arthur," he tried, but the blonde was faster and his plead only made Alfred's soul quench even more.

"Stay. Please."

He nodded and tore his eyes away from the Englishman's, staring in the blank space for a couple of moments before returning his gaze to the man, whose soul and feelings were just as deeply wounded as his own. He was just as lonely and bitter about the world as he was, still he had faith in his friend... and he needed him, just as much as Alfred needed him too.

"Of course, I stay."

In the end the younger man only hummed and squeezed Arthur's hand; the blonde's eyes softened and Alfred felt his insides loosen from the pressing grip of the day's misery, now feeling Arthur by his side and with that, recovering from the anxious thoughts of loneliness and disappointment.

When all of a sudden Arthur's eyes lit up with excitement as if he was a teenager who had a great secret to tell, Alfred smiled back at him and his friend chuckled.

"Hey, I have great wines in the storage, do you want to try one? I have like, ten types of red wines, Francis had a very good and sensitive taste about qualities, and they are all special and old ones!"

"I... I don't think we should drink, Arthur."

"One bottle won't hurt, now come and let's choose one!"

...

Thank you for reading, and still being here. I'm terribly sorry for the late updates. I have state exam in two weeks, but I want to make up for these absences. :3

Reviews and welcomed and appreciated, tell me your opinions!