Hello to you, my lovelies! Did you miss me? I can sense that you did, despite your objections! You know you love me! *evil maniacal laugh* Ahem, now on to further matters. I'm sitting here watching ghost stories on television. I think that might be part of my overactive imagination. It's just so interesting! I believe in lots of crazy things. Ghosts, aliens, Justin Bieber. (They're all real.) I actually believe with all the planets in the universe, and all of the facts, it's more impossible NOT to have aliens. But we're not here for aliens! We're here for this freakshow of a story! On to your love! Kira-Lime Orijima, sorry, love. It's deleted. It was getting too repetitive. You can always visit him in WTCF! DX HetaliaHour, you're quite welcome! PersonaNoir, what! They can't ban you! I'll send a stern letter! Singing Artist, thank you! Yes, it does explain Arthur's hatred for women. luckycat222, if sighing gives wrinkles, Arthur needs to be concerned! Dark Contrast, it's a good thing to be insane! It makes us more fun. Quiet. Crash, I'm not cruel! I'm cuddly and loveable! Rai Rai Blue, I did stop drinking Monster! I still want it though. I should really start a support group. Zombie flu? Huh. Hope I don't catch it! darkestlight96, thank you for saying you liked it! Fynniona, Arthur is a complex character, ugh. He's also stuffy, but I love him! hgge56, I'll try! Glad you love it! Enough rambling for now! On with the story!

Things That Rhyme With Orange

(I Set My Friends on Fire)

[I'm so iconoclastic; I'm clastic! I only want you to think I'm fantastic. I'll participate in what you believe, if you give me the attention! Yeah, yeah that's the only compensation! I wanna be included in your conversation. So am I "in" or am I "out"? What is there to think about?! What is that paint brush for? Are you preparing to draw me? No, wait, please don't! I am scared, of what I'll see... I'm not a perfect picture portrait, but I am working on it! I've been thinking about being cool; I must have to admit!]

The first thing Arthur noticed when he woke up was how cold he felt. He laid there for a moment, not sure why he felt the way he did. Then he rolled over, and realized Alfred wasn't there.

The second thing he noticed, was how…sad he felt.

Wait, was he sad? He couldn't remember the last time he was sad. He never even felt much sadness when he learned his mother died. If anything, he felt relief.

It was one less person alive to hate.

But here he was, mourning the fact that a noisy American git wasn't here to annoy him.

Upon further inspection, he learned Alfred wasn't anywhere in his home. The younger man had left.

Not that Arthur could blame him. Such a young kid probably had better things to do.

He got ready for work, same as he did every morning. It took a moment for him to remember why he was so sore. But then, he saw his reflection.

His face looked like it had lost a battle with a brick wall. His left arm was bandaged, and was stinging profusely. Of course, it could've been a lot worse. The American had told him he pulled glass out of it with his surgical tools.

Arthur sighed as he observed his face. One of his eyes was almost closed from the swelling. It was beyond a purplish bruise, and was well on its way to being black. His other eye was bloodshot, no doubt from the amount of alcohol he had consumed the night before.

What made everything worse was the fact that Alfred wasn't there. Had he really grown so accustomed to the other's presence? Was that really why he felt so disappointed?

He pulled on his coat, and ventured outside into the chilly air.

There was quite a bit of hustle. He observed a crowd of people by the newspaper boy, craning their necks to get a good look at the article the child was waving around.

The doctor's curiosity got the best of him.

He walked closer, standing just at the edge of the crowd. He just barely managed to make out the text.

Another "Ripper" letter was sent to the police.

Again? Really?

Were people so bored with their own lives, they had to take credit for someone else's work? It must have been a sad existence.

He should really feel sorry for them.

As it was, he didn't really feel anything. He wasn't angry this time. In all actuality, he had come to expect it. There would probably be more letters sent. There would be books written. He was becoming a legend.

He left the crowd, smiling slightly to himself. It was a sign that the city was even more terrified now.

When he arrived at the office, he shook his coat off, and went to his desk. Michelle ran into the room with a confused look on her face.

"Arthur? Why are you here?" she asked.

"Well, my parents decided to have me for whatever reason, and I happen to be alive today, so naturally-" he started.

"No, no, you imbecile. Alfred said you were too ill to work."

"…Is he here?"

"He went to get some more paint supplies a little while ago. He should be back soon. You're late, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," he huffed, secretly grateful that the American was coming back, and was trying to look out for him.

"What happened to you two last night?" Michelle asked.

"What? What do you mean, 'what happened'?! Nothing happened!" the doctor yelped, feeling his face grow hot. She stared at him.

"Something had to have happened. You and Alfred both look like you went through a meat grinder. His glasses are broken. I'm amazed he's walking around without bumping into everything."

Oh. She meant their injuries. For a second there, he was hoping he could kill her.

Arthur went to his desk, and had just opened a file, when the door opened, and Alfred walked in.

There was an awkward pause as the two stared at each other, and Michelle stared at them.

"I…thought you would still be asleep…" the sandy blond muttered.

"It was rather hard. My bed was cold," the doctor replied.

Michelle shot another quizzical glance, and then went into the other room murmuring something about a file she needed.

"I thought you'd be happy I wasn't there," the American said. "You didn't act like you wanted me there last night."

"Alfred…"

"No, gimme a second. I didn't come here to impede you, and I didn't come here to bother you. I…just like being with you… But if you want me to leave, I will. Just say the word."

Arthur observed him quietly. He looked so…vulnerable. The doctor couldn't resist vulnerability. It was when people were in their purest state. Laying everything on the line, bearing their souls.

Arthur could cut him now, deeper than he ever could with any knife.

But…he didn't want that. He didn't want to hurt Alfred. The truth was, he liked having him around, and the git was quickly becoming a permanent fixture in his life.

He didn't want to wake up cold anymore.

In fact, he might actually like to wake up…next to Alfred next time. Even if it was only once.

So when Michelle walked back in the room, and asked if either of them were leaving, there was only one answer worth giving.

"We all work here. None of us are leaving. And…I don't want any of us to," the doctor said shortly, going back to his desk. As he passed the sandy blond, he clasped his shoulder briefly, meeting his bright blue eyes.

Alfred's smile was blinding, and breathtakingly beautiful.

[It has to be a unanimous determination, because one opinion would be a pointless appreciation. Yeah, sure thanks for the invitation! Don't want to be included in your conversation... It's too late! We've over thrown, I took all your friends, and you're all alone! Blame it on the corporate skyscrapers in the clouds, but if wasn't for you, we wouldn't have all these multiple crowds. How am I supposed to choose, which one I belong to?]

Sachi: Yay! Arthur wants Alfred! But we all knew that. Hell, the summary says UKUS, so we knew it was coming… Still, yay! Plot development! Review for love! As always, you know you want it! Also a quicker update of the next chapter might be thrust upon you! And a wonderful happy birthday to my Bunny-chan! Hope your day was fantastic! And thank all of you for reading~!