Arthur frowned. Shoving America away from himself as he pushed past and strode into the hallway.
"I know it's okay you bloody idiot!" he threw over his shoulder. Behind him Alfred seemed to recover from the sudden mood swing and followed him into his sitting room.
Now with the gentle atmosphere so harshly broken by Arthur's sudden outburst an awkward silence once more descended on the two nations. Arthur kept his back to Alfred as he walked over to the french windows and stared out at his garden. The sun had begun to set and cast an orange light over the grass that was still slightly damp from the earlier rainfall and small glimmers of dew drops on his roses reflected the sunset back at him again.
"It looks nice, have you been working on it again?" Alfred had cast a quick glance through the window as well before he had moved to sit on the sofa beside the window that was cast in shadow by the heavy curtains.
"Mmm," Arthur gave a vague answer and didn't turn away, continuing to stare out at his garden. Truthfully he had worked on it, roses took a lot of work and he loved to keep them in perfect condition, the small compliment from America gratified his efforts and cheered him up slightly.
Soon Alfred grew tired of the silence and pulled out his mobile. Arthur heard the strange blipping noises and scoffed when he turned to see him on the device.
"What?" Alfred glanced up, disturbed and annoyed by the sound Arthur made before returning his attention to his phone.
"I knew you couldn't go more than a few hours without resorting to some form of electronic drivel." Arthur smirked and finally turned away from the window fully to frown almost absent-mindedly at the younger nation.
Alfred rolled his eyes at the condescension. "Whatever old man, sorry if stewing in my own misery was getting a bit too depressing for me." he continued to press on the screen eliciting more beeps from its speakers.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Your misery?" he asked disbelieving.
"Uhuh," his fingers paused but he didn't look up.
"And exactly what do you have to be miserable about?" Arthur's fingers twitched, he was just itching to grab that phone and throw it across the room to force Alfred to look at him.
"You." came the short offhand reply, as if he didn't really care or was trying very hard to seem that way.
England didn't notice this though, all he heard was the implication that he was in some way making Alfred miserable. It stung. A sharp pain twisted in his chest and he felt his stomach drop. To hide the sudden unwanted feelings Arthur masked them with anger.
"Me?" he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at America. "What the hell? If I make you so goddamn upset why don't you bloody well bugger off and leave me alone!" he shouted.
America looked up in shock. England continued to glare at him for a few more seconds before attempting to once again storm away.
"Urgh! This is what I'm talking about!" he yelled back. England froze in the doorway.
"What?" he asked confused, still with his back to America.
"You always call me the idiot but you never stop to think either do you? You just get it into your head that everyone's against you and you don't need us anyway but you're wrong. You complete moron Arthur!" he stopped and gulped some air before forcing himself to calm down and talk calmly, "It's not you being with me that makes me sad, it's that you're not."
Arthur turned to face him and noticed the tears about to spill down Alfred's cheeks. Alfred blushed and turned his head to the floor as he quickly wiped them away before meeting Arthur's gaze once more.
"It doesn't matter what I do does it? Will you always see me as a kid? Someone too young to understand the complicated thoughts of an adult, someone you can't confide in because I won't get it. Arthur I'm not a child!"
Arthur stood there shocked. He knew Alfred wasn't a child, he had known-been forced to acknowledge-since the revolution, but that didn't make talking to him any easier. Arthur was so used to pushing people away, to being alone, that having someone like Alfred around trying to get him to open up was terrifying. He had gotten so used to bearing his problems himself over the years it was difficult to even think of letting someone else share the burden. Yet somehow he still seemed to have forced it onto America. No not America, Alfred. This had nothing to do with their nations, this was private and even more painful because Alfred, Alfred was the reason he couldn't have children.
When Arthur still said nothing Alfred grew more upset and the tears began to fall quicker. He wiped them away again in frustration and balled his hands into fists at his side.
"You know what? This was obviously a waste of time dude. I gotta get home to Tony anyway and... yeah okay." this time it was Alfred's turn to push past Arthur as he rushed into the hall and towards the front door. Arthur was still rooted to the spot and didn't seem to take in what was happening.
Alfred didn't know what to do. He had come here to try to sort everything out, apologise and maybe even admit to Arthur the feelings that had tortured him for such a long time but all he had managed to do was embarrass himself. Of course Arthur still viewed him as an incompetent child, of course he would refuse to see him as an equal. Just what had he been hoping to achieve? Not just today but... ever since that day when he had tried to prove his strength to England and the world, everything always seemed to backfire.
His thoughts were completely overridden with grief and embarrassment and anger. Without thinking he ran out of the house into the fresh burst of rain leaving his bomber jacket still hanging up on the coat rack.
When the door slammed shut Arthur was finally jolted out of his shock.
"America? America wait!" he turned to the front door and ran after him.
Stepping out into the downpour he glanced around. The sun had finished setting and with the new rain clouds everything became that much darker. Arthur couldn't see Alfred until a car pulled up and illuminated his form. A taxi.
"America! ALFRED!" he shouted as the nation climbed into the car, Alfred didn't seem to hear him.
As the car pulled off Arthur made a mad dash to stop it but ended up just watching as it drove away back towards London.
"Al..." he murmured dejectedly as he saw the red lights turn a corner and fade from view.
After a few minutes Arthur pulled himself back together and trudged slowly back into his home. Once inside he stood there letting the rain water drip from his hair down his face and into his clothes before it splattered onto the floor. He stood in confusion in the growing puddle for countless minutes before he sneezed and realised just how cold he was.
He dragged himself further into the house before something brown and fluffy caught his eye. Alfred's jacket. It was still hung up on the wall.
Arthur grabbed it and pulled it into his face. He could smell leather and hamburgers and... "Alfred."
It took a second for Arthur to realise the wet streaks on his cheeks were not just from the rain.
:) I feel bad for Alfred because England always seems to treat him like a childish moron and even if he has his moments I don't think that's all America is and I don't think Arthur really believes that either.
Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter you guys made my day! I even had a little dance (if you can call it that :/) so thanks!