Chapter 14

Alfred swung open the door of his temporary house, heart wildly thumping in his chest- because there was always the chance that Sefi was wrong, that Arthur didn't feel anything toward him, that Alfred was going to make a fool of himself.

But Alfred pushed those thoughts out of his mind, focused on what he wanted to say to Arthur as he walked to their room and pushed open the door ever so slowly. Arthur was sitting on the bed, eyes focused on the floor, and he didn't move when Alfred showed himself.

"Arthur."

Green eyes met blue. Arthur looked cold, emotionless, stony, everything Alfred feared he would be. "What?"

"I... I don't want this." That was all that Alfred could say. Arthur's eyes narrowed, and he laughed- short, sardonic, bitter.

"You think I do? I never asked for any of this bullshit."

Indignantly, Alfred took another step inside the room, snapping, "You won't guilt-trip me. Everything I did back then was what I needed to do, and you know that. You knew that."

Arthur was suddenly standing, hands curled into fists, and he snarled, "You needed to humiliate me?" His voice was rising, almost hysterically, and Alfred took a step back. "To break me into shards? To rip away every ounce of trust I ever possessed!?"

"Shut it! You brought that on yourself, bastard!"

"All I ever did was care for you!" Arthur looked dangerously close to hitting Alfred. "And you threw it in my face-"

"Oh, you're so melodramatic. I can feel my heart just breaking," Alfred taunted, shocked at the venom that dripped in his voice. Even Arthur stopped, his eyes round and jaw clenched. They stared at each other for a long moment, and Alfred wanted to break out in a string of curses. This was not how the conversation was supposed to go. Arthur was supposed to run to him, to love him, to live happily ever after with him. He wasn't supposed to accuse Alfred of destroying him, wasn't supposed to look like his world had just been shattered by 11 words.

But Arthur steeled himself, enclosing himself and his emotions behind walls. He quickly became indifferent, looked away from Alfred, and his voice turned monotone. "I understand now." Alfred inhaled sharply- Arthur looked like a bleak, lifeless doll. "And I was right. You were just trying to get close to me, to gain my trust, so you could break me all over again." His eyes were no longer fiery and defiant- they were dull, achromatic. "All of those things you did were just... just to trick me. To play me."

"Don't make assumptions." Alfred tilted his head, lips parted with all the words he wanted to yell but couldn't.

"What should I do, then?" Arthur's voice had dropped to a whisper, so suddenly that it took Alfred off-guard. "I-"

"Arthur. You know that's not true." I didn't play you for your kindness. I'm not out to get you.

"And why should I believe you? You played me once." Arthur's tone was still low.

Alfred didn't understand why Arthur couldn't just believe him. Anger started to well, and spurred him to walk hastily forward, grab Arthur's shoulders, and push him against the wall with all of the force he possessed. All of the life, the color, sprung back into Arthur's face, as if all his walls were being torn and broken down. He threw his fist at Alfred's face, but Alfred caught it and pinned Arthur's hands above his head, looming over him. "You listen to me," he snarled. "I never played you for a fool, not once. You always think that you're the only one who suffered during the Revolutionary War, the only one who cried, the only one who felt like their existence and soul was being stepped on and broken into bloody shards of glass." His voice was ridiculously, loudly emotive, but Alfred couldn't stop from yelling, "I wailed every night for you! I prayed I could see you and that you'd jump into my arms and everything could go back the way it could be! I felt my heart shattering every time I heard about you from someone else or passed you in the hall, because as much as I wanted you, I couldn't have you!"

Overestimating an empire (no less the British Empire) was not a smart thing to do, because as soon as he finished, Alfred felt Arthur's knee in his gut, and he drew back. Arthur was suddenly launching himself at Alfred, and the two collapsed onto the ground in a whirling fight of fists and knees and bodies.

"I hate you!" Arthur screamed, and Alfred bowled him over, pinned him on the ground, and realized with a start that Arthur's eyes were watery, bleary, on the brink of tears. Alfred paused, eyes wide, and Arthur's voice trembled as he struggled to fight off Alfred's heavy weight. "Damn it! You... you're... the only one..."

Alfred didn't understand and couldn't speak anyway. Thoughts whirling, he opened his lips, to force at least something out, but Arthur was suddenly throwing arms around him- completely, utterly defenseless. No more barriers, no more walls- vulnerable, open, something that Arthur never was.

And Arthur was shaking as he whispered, "Don't leave me again. Don't break my heart."

This was Arthur accepting him- this was Arthur conveying that he trusted him, however fragile, delicate, that string of trust was. There was a heavy strike of pain in Alfred's heart as he pulled away from Arthur slightly. Eyes met, and Alfred, still hovering over Arthur, murmured the only thing that came to mind. "I guess I'll stick around."

His lips spread into a broad grin, and Arthur was crying, laughing, and smiling all at the same time. They embraced, and despite the awkward angle and his aching back and neck, Alfred decided that this- wrapping Arthur's frame in his, laughing, sobbing, deliriously happy- was everything.