Cigarettes and Valentines-short side story-ish.
Alfred and Arthur had come back late that night. Very late. And also very drunk. Letting the two sleep it off had seemed like the best idea in the morning when the normally early riser England had failed to get up, and when they woke up Francis had hopped on the excuse of needing to purchase more groceries and despite Arthur's late night jaunt outside had accused him of not leaving the house enough and forced him into coming along. This had left Alfred and Mathew alone in the house together for the first time in a while. And one of North America's favourite pastimes is videogames. Mathew would later, if asked, that he'd been roped into it.
"Hey, Mathew, would you like to go to the park?" Alfred asked as they were playing videogames together, a random RPG that Alfred had brought over when he and Arthur had gotten there earlier.
Mathew took the cherry sucker he'd been gnawing on for the past while out of his mouth with a pop and leaving his lips stained bright red so that he could talk freely.
"The park, Alfred? We're not little kids anymore, you know that right?"
"Maybe we're not little kids anymore in body, but I totally am at heart." Alfred declared with his ever present grin on his face.
He took one last shot at Mathew's character, killing the avatar, before pausing the game.
Mathew gave him a scandalous look before setting down his controller too.
"I guess we might as well then." Mathew mused as he stood up and stretched.
His back popped several times, evidence that they had been sitting there for a very long time.
"Alright!" Alfred shouted gleefully as he jumped to his feet. "This will be so much fun."
"Right, fun." Mathew agreed with a weary sigh.
America/Alfred's POV
They were sitting on the swing set, barely even trying to swing back and forth because of the effort it would cause. They were just enjoying each other's company like they had back in old times when they were still colonies together.
Then Alfred broke the silence that had before only been intruded on by the slight creaking and screeches of the rusted chains. "Hey, Mattie?"
"Yeah, Alfred?"
"What- do you? Um, that is to say-God I sound like Arthur, uh, actually, never mind. Just forget about it. It's stupid anyway."
Mathew still stared curiously at his twin brother despite his last few words. "Forget about what, Alfred?"
"Just, forget about what I was saying. Just forget that I was about to ask you something, alright?"
"No, what were you about to ask?"
"Do you hate me, Mathew?"
Mathew froze. It was spring time, and yet he had stopped doing everything at that question like a cold spell had sprung up and froze him to that spot. He had stopped doing everything but breathing at that question, like he was now made of glass.
'Maybe he is both now.' Alfred thought to himself. 'Maybe he is both cold to everything and made of glass. Now everything can break him and shatter him easily. I wouldn't be surprised if it did.'
Alfred felt the irrational urge to reach out and touch his brother to make sure his skin was not freezing cold and was still warm, but he checked it. The feeling that is, not his brother's skin. Because that would be weird, and his brother didn't want him touching him already anyways too.
'That had been a silly idea to think of.' He decided to scold himself with instead.
Mathew still was not responding.
'Did he really need to think about his answer to that question? This was why he called Mathew slow! It should have been a simple question to answer with ease. Yes-he'd break his heart if Mathew answered that. And no-he would feel assured with that answer that Mathew wasn't trying to kill himself in part because of him.'
This was really only a question meant to sooth Alfred's feelings of guilt.
There was still silence from Mathew, so Alfred started babbling in an effort to encourage him to open his mouth and say one of those two one syllable words. "'Cuz, you know, I wasn't too sure with how you act when Eyebrows and I are around. We just seem to always make you more depressed. So, I wanted to make sure that we aren't making you feel worse or anything. 'Cuz, I really don't want that."
Mathew was still silent.
'Come on, Mathew. Speak. Say something, anything, I don't care. I just want words to come out of your mouth.'
"I don't hate you, Al."
Relief.
'Thank God.'
"Thanks, Mattie!"
Alfred launched himself at his brother. The swing set chains entangled them, and it was likely the only thing that stopped him from crushing Mathew and bearing them to the ground. But, it still let them feel connected, bound together, and it just felt so warm that Alfred momentarily tried to forget about his concern over how fragile he now viewed his brother to be.
Thank you for the reassurances, guys, on if everything was IC and the plot wasn't confusing. That helped.