Losing Grace
By Ryukansen
Chapter Twenty One: Disgusting Smile
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Author's Notes: Sorry this chapter took some time. It was writer's block, or I guess, it was also the difficulty of writing this chapter since I wasn't planning to do "the other side" of Alfred F. Jones. It's complicated, and my brain hurts because of trying to think of the perfect scenarios. Unfortunately, this is what I came about. But I hope you guys like this one~ Like always, please read & review!
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"Mattie, it's okay…forgive and forget, right?"
"Eight years ago." The blonde whispered softly as he grazed his frail fingers against his plump, pink lips. "It's only a few words…but in it, those words constitute many troubled memories."
The American was reduced to silence as he took a goblet of Francis' fine wine- drinking it to the last while leaving no sign of nausea or vertigo. He bit his lower lip and lolled his head downwards, letting his bangs fall graciously across his lavender eyes. His hands softly clutched onto the edge of the mahogany table nearly scratching the surface from an invisible pain. The Frenchman was only left to silence.
"When you are down…what do you do Francis?" Matthew asked on a first-name basis while gazing at him with trembling lips. His words were warm but hid a dark, uneasy feeling behind them all. "Would you get sad like everyone else? How would you get rid of it? When do you start feeling better?" The words suddenly get heavy and filled with meaning but Francis' has no response.
"Alfred…" He began while staring hard into Francis' lavender pools, "Alfred…when he gets sad he dies a little inside…" Matthew murmured. "But he, secretly, keeps it to himself."
"Hey…don't look at me like that." The boy whispered gently. Matthew stared at Alfred who was sitting on top of a stone and gazing out at the far west of their fields. A smile was curled up onto his face, albeit it was fragile from what Matthew could tell. "It's alright…I was made this way, Mattie…I'm fine." He murmured with a hoarse and disbelieving tone. The other child continued to gaze at him as he walked up to sit next to his brother.
That smile. It was haunting. It always scared Matthew, because beneath it lay a new emotion he could not understand.
"Alfred…if you want, you can always ignore them." Matthew remarked sheepishly and held onto his brother's hand with a hint of support. Alfred continued to smile again; his blue eyes shining with so much happiness and yet a strange aloof depression lingered behind them. "Those people - they don't know anything about you! How could they treat you so differently?" His heart was aching whenever their eyes locked - and somehow it was easy for him to get depressed as well.
"It's already done Mattie…I was made this way…whatever they say about me may be true…but it's always up to me to accept it or not!" His brother replied confidently while squeezing his hand a little stronger. "Besides…whether or not they think I am a freak of nature, means nothing to me." He added and shifted his blue pools towards the horizon where the sun was setting.
"…Alfred…can you honestly shrug it all off?" Matthew went with rage, his brother blinked back what could have been tears, and only let out a feigned smile (again) across his face. "For heaven's sake Alfred, they think you're an abomination!" He shouted, pointing at the freakishly pale and thin child.
His brother's face; however, continued to smile nevertheless.
Matthew hated that smile. It was beautiful and disgusting at the same time. It held so many meanings, and yet it always made Matthew's blood boil…
Alfred F. Jones was a meek twelve year old at this time. He was born with a strange disease, and at this moment the doctors couldn't even identify what was causing his body to develop so poorly.
He had beautiful golden wheat hair, unusually bright and healthy with a matching pair of innocent, sky blue eyes that were intense and naturally glowing. And yet, they were always ignored when one would stare at his underweight figure and strangely white pasted skin.
He was long limbed, uncharacteristically thin and white as paper.
And because of his appearance, adults tended to treat him differently - not as harsh as the children, but they would treat him like a flower. With great…feigning care. They were no gardeners. The children however; they spoke their minds.
Matthew remembered how a small child, three years younger than them both, mockingly destroyed his brother's pride and hope by calling him foul names .His favorite seemed to be "abomination" and other's concerned more drastic and devilish terms that Matthew found his heart shaking. Alfred however, accepted those names openly, but inwardly he was crying. He could tell himself.
He was his brother.
"They called you the 'Devil's Creation', for goodness sakes, Al!" Matthew cried as he took his brother from the collar and gritted his teeth - trying to make a statement all the while with his intimidation. "They hate you Alfred, they loathe you, they think you're queer!" He continued on, unknowingly showing his tears as he bit his lower lip in confusion.
"…Matthew it's alright…I am what I am." Alfred whispered gently as he took his brother into his arms and sighed painfully. Matthew remembered how he could hear his heart, beat slowly in a tormenting pound.
That day, Matthew felt something small and wet slide down on his mop of hair and yet that smile was still there. He closed his eyes too, holding ever so more tightly onto his sibling.
"I am…what I am…"
"Alfred…when he's sad, he keeps it all to himself." Matthew repeated while staring into Francis' widened eyes. "Is he really a coward?" He cried and looked him in the eyes with fresh tears ready to whip out any second.
"He accepted that he was a freak of nature, and to who?! People who don't care! Ignorant people…" Matthew replied trying to calm himself down as he held onto his position in a strict composure.
"That is because he is a coward, who can't stand up for himself." Francis corrected through grinding teeth. "He can't stand up for himself. He is nothing but a dog." He replied nonchalantly and began to pick up his cutlery to clean.
"No, Mr. Bonnefoy…" Matthew murmured through clenched teeth, "My definition of courage is not standing up for oneself…that is too common of a definition." He scoffed while staring at the silvery goblet in his hands. "This courage, I'm speaking about is different." He whispered. "My definition of courage, is the will to live despite everything you are."
Francis halted in his steps in the middle of the kitchen. He says nothing, but keeps Matthew's reply in mind.
Continuing to stare at his empty glass, the young American smiled bitterly while remembering more of Alfred's courageous and pathetic moments.
"And if he wanted to get rid of the sadness…he would be so much more terrible to himself than the children who constantly pestered him." Matthew replied with a smile that was reduced to a bitter frown. His index finger silently traced against the edge of the cup; smearing the goblet with a stain of wine.
Francis sat back down, staring absentmindedly at the young man in front of him. He seemed so sad. So very depressed the way he spoke, the way his eyes shined at every memory and the way his figure seemed to look exhausted over remembering everything.
"Matthew, it's alright, everything is fine." Alfred muttered quietly while staring at his reflection in a muddy pool below their galoshes.
It was winter time, and yet the sun still shone ever brightly - melting the morning snow with relative ease. The two were walking back home after buying a few supplies from the nearby market, and happened to come across a huge puddle that separated them from the other side of the pebble path.
"What do you mean everything is fine?" The younger twin asked with vile, obviously irritated at his brother's previous action. "Mother and Father…if they knew what you did, you would be in trouble." He replied flatly, glaring at the older sibling who seemed to be the most childish of the two.
"I didn't think it mattered." He responded automatically, still gazing at his reflection.
The two then begun to stare at one another with empty gazes. Matthew's hand suddenly, instinctively cups Alfred's cheeks as he leans towards his brother with a sad expression written all over his eyes.
"Of course it matters, Alfred…unlike them, our parents, they care." The young one whispered, his lips kissing the left side of his brother's face.
The two remained quietly beside each other's side, while holding one another's hands. They skipped into the puddle, smiling silently, but with aching hearts.
During this time, Alfred had gained substantial weight and muscles. His body was slowly developing; showing good signs to his parents who seemed cheerful over his sudden growth; however, he was still not good enough to his neighbors and classmates who still meddled into his business and joked him around.
Today for example, Matthew remembered how they had made fun of his brother who was the tallest in the class. In fact, the second tallest was two feet less than him! But, he was not as freakishly thin as two years prior to entering the school; however, his appearance was still long-limbed, thin and fragile to everyone in the small community.
A boy, today, had caused extremely bad luck for Alfred. He remembered how everyone in the school gazed at his brother with mocking gazes.
"Isn't he your brother?" One girl asked him once. "Aren't you supposed to look alike?" She smirked while skipping away with her friends to the nearest restroom in order to run away from his stoic gaze and possible outburst.
He remained silent the whole day, ashamed for his behavior. Too ashamed that he couldn't help Alfred out in the least bit.
But it was his brother who remained tall, unflinching, and unwavering. And still holding that disgusting smile..
"Mattie, if they make fun of you…come, run to me." The boy whispered quietly as they sat in the children's playground, ever more, holding tightly onto each other's hands. "It's not right if you're pulled into…my business." He replied, ruffling his brother's hair with a small smile.
"But Alfred…I'm your brother, I can withstand their teases!" He tried to assure the other one, but his voice was so weak. So frail, it was easily shrugged off by Alfred who wasn't at least convinced in his words.
"Everything's fine. Mattie, I'll help you."He whispered, as if Matthew was the one with the problems.
They arrived home that day, and were changing their snow outfits into comfortable shirts and jeans. The two huddled closely to one another as they began to watch television despite their parents calls of dinner being already prepared.
Matthew remembered Alfred's gaze, how much it seemed to differ from that of his usual. He seemed empty, aloof, and Matthew remembered how scared he was to leave him even for a fraction of a second.
"You two, come downstairs, it's dinner time!" Their mom replied from the first floor; obviously irritated at her two sons. They eventually came downstairs in awkward silence.
When dinner and chores were done. Matthew recalled how Alfred went to bed early. He, also went to bed quite early due to his stomachache he had developed from eating, too little - making both their parents confused and concerned.
Midnight arose, and he had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. The younger American twin decided to see what was going on and slightly opened the door to his brother's room for comfort.
It was dark. Pitch black, unlike the pristine, flawless white that always was mentioned because of the room's strange brightness.
The window was open, and the moonlight gently subsided on the edge of Alfred's bedpost. A figure was hunched in the corner of the room as light slowly flooded his sight.
"A-Alfred?" Matthew called out, walking over to the figure with hesitation.
It was when the moon shined, he stopped to find his brother staring at him helplessly.
"Shouldn't you be asleep, Mattie?" He asked with a fragile smile curling up on his pale face.
Alfred looked beautiful in his white nightgown, but beneath all the pure white. Matthew could see what was under the fabric.
"What are you doing?" He asked, diving towards his brother who seemed uncharacteristically careful with his left arm. "Show it to me!" The younger twin hissed, while the older one pulled his arm farther away.
It was about a minute later, Matthew took his arm and uncovered it from the white wrappings only discovering a gash across his pallid skin.
"W-What is this?" The young one cried gazing at his brother with horror. Alfred quickly gathered his arm back into his chest, and looked at his brother with that same fragile smile.
"It's my salvation." He replied, weakly.
"For what?" Matthew sobbed hysterically, clutching onto his brother's free arm which was oddly limp.
"It's the only other thing I would want to feel besides all the bad emotions, Mattie." The boy whispered, gazing at him with unwavering eyes.
"If I feel this pain…I can forget all they have said. I can forget everything." He replied with that disgusting smile. "And best of all…it's what I owe you…for shaming you." He whispered.
His heart curled up in anguish, and his nails dug into his brother's flesh as he gazed up at him with terror. "But what about me?" His brother cried while holding onto his arm gently and sobbing. "What about me? What do I feel?" He asked, holding onto Alfred who seemed puzzled - but kept that smile on his face.
"…You?" He whispered gently and took his brother into his arms. "You can just be…happy." He replied and snuggled himself against his brother.
For some reason, Alfred's thoughts was very disturbing especially to Francis. But to Matthew, those thoughts were personal and comforting, and just…Alfred.
"You mean to tell me, your brother would punish himself for doing nothing?" Francis asked while gazing at the man who seemed to dream about the past albeit his expression seemed to be that of horror.
"Yes." The American muttered quietly. "That is his character."
Matthew was fidgeting in his seat while playing with his thumbs. "He may be a coward to you…but he is the most bravest person I know." He replied sweetly. "Despite his perverse thoughts…he is…the bravest person out of all of us in t his weird connection." The man confirmed.
"His character is disturbing." Francis muttered, all the more unconvinced for Arthur to be with Alfred.
Although…there was something to be respected about the said man.
Alfred was undeniably…pure and heartwarming.
And in this imperfect world…this chaotic world. Who was better for an exhausted celebrity, but a pure…person?
Francis smiled softly as he gazed at Matthew who was ranting on about his brother in admiration. "I understand." He whispered softly, his eyes gazing at the lavender pools of the American who stared at him for some time. "Even though your brother…may have a twisted definition of courage…" He inhaled, "He is still the only one."
Matthew closed his eyes in relief as Francis gently touched the side of his cheek.
They remained like that for one moment.
"…Be happy…that's all I want you to ever be." Alfred whispered as he clutched onto Matthew who had fallen asleep. "I want you to be everything, that I can't be. Everything that I will never be…" He sighed and rest his head against the wall paneling.
"…Should I find happiness…Mattie, I hope you find it first."
'Alfred.' Matthew whispered to himself as he fluttered his eyes open to see lavender eyes watching him. '…I have always found happiness…with you.'
'Maybe to you, I was asleep…but in reality…I was awake…happily with you…despite your choices.'
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"Bloody hell!" Arthur shouted as he dove out of his bed and into his closet, looking for something clean and sheen to wear. He was late, and he knew that he would end up with more than glares from Roderich, Seychelles and Francis. But he had such a horrible nightmare…
He shook his head, trying to remind himself that there was a last interview to do to confirm things.
Standing in front of the mirror, the British celebrity adjusted his tie and smiled awkwardly as he gazed at his perfect self in the cracked mirror.
"It's my time to shine." He whispered solemnly. "It's my time to shine."