Onwards to Chapter 2!
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This chapter is from Arthur's POV. The POVs will alternate!
Well, it had certainly hurt.
A lot.
But he would never let Alfred know that.
That insufferable, American idiot who had caused this mess in the first place.
Arthur sat on a chair by the door, his back straight as he stared at his wrapped up foot. The doctor had told him a couple days ago that he would need to use crutches for at least a week, and that the excess strain he had put on his foot after the accident had only made it worse.
He had also told Arthur to make sure not to put any more excess strain on his foot and to use his crutches.
But of course, Arthur couldn't afford to do that. He had lessons to teach, after all.
He could make it work. He had to.
They didn't call him Arthur Kirkland for nothing, after all.
He glanced at his watch.
4:58.
Alfred had said three days, hadn't he?
Arthur decided he'd wait another three minutes, and if Alfred showed up after that he wouldn't answer the door. He couldn't respect people who weren't punctual, after all.
He wondered if his father would feel happy, hearing him say that.
But soon enough, there was a knock on the door, and Arthur rose to answer it, wincing as he stood up and put pressure on his foot. He decided not to use the crutches to avoid worrying Alfred.
He couldn't afford to be selfish. He tried to ignore the pain as he limped over to the door, opening it slowly.
"Howdy, Arthur!"
"...Hello, Alfred."
He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, dressed casually, as he waved his extra pair of shoes at Arthur with a grin.
His blond hair practically glowed in the sunlight, and his eyes were a beautiful blue, as always. Arthur wanted to look away, but he couldn't.
"Brought my shoes this time!"
"Hm," Arthur grunted - the only acknowledgment he'd give Alfred.
He opened the door wider to let Alfred in.
"Hey, you shouldn't be standing around like that. Do you have crutches?" Alfred asked, his eyebrows knit in a frown, worried.
"I'll be fine," Arthur said, trying to keep his voice as even and disinterested as possible.
He had long since decided that making Alfred hate him was not the best way to carry out their lessons, although that setup was the easiest on Arthur. Instead, he opted for a cool indifference - after the lessons were over, they would hopefully part as respected acquaintances and nothing more.
"I don't think so..."
"You seem to be thinking a lot of things for someone who still hasn't learned to take off their shoes at the doorway."
"You got me," Alfred grinned as he quickly took off his shoes before entering the house again. Arthur shut the door behind him.
"Are you sure you're okay, though?"
"Perfectly," Arthur sighed. Honestly, why did this brat have to pick today of all days to be especially annoying?
"I really think you should get some -"
"How about we make a deal?" Arthur cut in, his voice harsh. Alfred fell silent, staring at him.
"If you can lead me and dance successfully for two minutes without a single mistake, you can leave early and I'll fetch myself a pair of crutches."
Alfred frowned.
"That sounds great and all, but you'll still be dancing with a sprained ankle. Dude, that's gotta hurt."
"It feels like nothing," Arthur lied, gritting his teeth. "So, what do you say?"
"I mean, I'd sure love to try out that new video game early...so, you're on!" Alfred said with a grin.
Alfred was...certainly enthusiastic. Surprisingly so. Arthur would give him that.
But he was an absolute mess, for lack of a better word.
Arthur was sitting down on a chair, watching as Alfred walked around the room.
He had told him to walk slowly, but Alfred seemed to be rushing as he shuffled clumsily across the room.
He had been walking completely fine in the hallway, so why on earth was he so awkward now? Although the exercise was a warm up, it was also for Arthur to study Alfred more in detail - how he carried himself, what kind of quirks or style he had when he walked. It wasn't terribly important, but Arthur thought it beneficial to make small mental notes, as some of Alfred's idiosyncrasies may slip into his dancing.
"Alfred," Arthur interrupted, and Alfred turned to him with wide eyes.
"Uh, yeah?"
"I believe I told you to walk slowly."
"I am!"
"Alfred, you're not here to impress anyone. Slowly means slowly. Relax. Get used to the room, the space you're going to be using. This is your time to get comfortable."
"Yeah, but I'm just walking normally."
"Alfred, I've seen you walk. That is not how you walk."
Alfred pouted. "Yeah, but I mean, what does this have to do with dance?"
"I just told you to get acquainted with the room. Do as I say or you won't even be home in time for supper, never mind your video game."
Alfred glared at him before walking again, but Arthur noticed, to his satisfaction, that he had slowed down slightly.
Alfred's shoulders slowly dropped as he relaxed more, and he casually strode across the floor. He stumbled less, and he appeared more and more confident as his eyes slowly rose from the floor to focusing on whatever was in front of him. Alfred's hands found their way into his pockets, and Arthur noticed that he had a certain...he hated to use the word, but 'swagger' to his walk. It wasn't obnoxious, like Alfred's voice could be sometimes, but it conveyed a certain sense of confidence that fit Alfred's character perfectly. He didn't have perfect posture by any means - his shoulders were a bit hunched forward, most likely from all the video games and computer games he played - but it was just barely noticeable.
Without a smile on his face, Alfred seemed to be very cool and composed, and he relaxed even more as he took more laps around the room. He stopped looking at Arthur every two seconds with a questioning look on his face like a lost puppy, instead taking the lead himself and getting comfortable with the task.
Arthur couldn't stop the smile that came to his face.
Alfred could do it if he tried. And he wasn't too bad to work with, either.
He let him take a couple of more laps before he stopped him.
"Good, Alfred."
"Yeah, I really needed help in the walking department."
"Shush. Are you ready to learn?"
"Yeah!" Alfred turned to him, a slight smile on his face.
"All right."
Arthur stood up with effort, struggling to ignore the pain as he walked over to Alfred as normally as he could. He noticed Alfred's frown, and he tried to ignore it.
"All right. Do you know anything about waltzes?"
"Uh...fancy music?"
"..."
Arthur groaned, and Alfred laughed at him.
"It isn't funny. Now, there are many different kinds of waltzes, and since your parents seem not to care, I will begin by teaching you the most basic."
"Isn't there, like, an American waltz?" Alfred asked curiously, most likely in an attempt to be funny, and Arthur stared at him.
"...There is, actually," Arthur said with a small smile. "The standard International waltz is completely closed, but the American style waltz allows for more...how would you phrase it...freedom."
"I knew it!" Alfred grinned. "What do you mean by 'closed?'"
Arthur rolled his eyes before clearing his throat. "Let's start from the beginning."
Alfred nodded.
"A waltz is one of the most typical ballroom dances. It's in three, and -"
"What do you mean by three?" Alfred interrupted immediately.
"...Have you taken music lessons?"
"Uh...at school, maybe. Ohhh, you mean like 3/4 time?"
"Yes," Arthur nodded, relieved.
That was another headache he did not want to go through.
"Lucky for you, the waltz isn't that difficult to master. It is as easy or as hard as you make it, and allows for a lot of freedom and creativity. Of course, there are different types of waltzes; the American waltz, as I mentioned earlier, is a popular example."
Alfred nodded again, grinning now.
"Are you paying attention?"
"Yeah!"
"Okay...In any case, as you know, the man leads. For your lessons, although we are both men, I want you to lead."
"Aww...can't do it with that foot, can you?" Alfred asked, winking, and Arthur felt his face flush slightly.
He hoped Alfred didn't notice.
"And whose fault is that?" Arthur hissed, and Alfred held up his hands in surrender.
"Anyway," Arthur continued, "The first step is becoming accustomed to the music."
Arthur walked over to the CD player, turning it on, and soon music reverberated across the room.
It was typical ballroom dance music.
"Tap your feet to the rhythm. One, two, three, one, two, three...like this," Arthur said, sitting down again as he tapped his good foot on the floor.
Alfred frowned, waiting for a while before he tapped his foot. But he missed the obvious beat, and there were times when he looked like he might trip, although Arthur didn't know how it was possible.
"All...right," Arthur said after a while. He changed the song, but Alfred was always early or late on the beat.
He turned the CD player off, stunned.
How could anyone have such a terrible music sense? How was he even able to pass his music classes?
He looked up at Alfred, who seemed to guess his thoughts.
"No good?" Alfred asked with a small smile.
"N-No, you're all right," Arthur said, frowning slightly.
How else could they go about it? If he couldn't tap his foot to the beat, there was no way he'd be able to sway his body to it...
Arthur turned it on again and acted as an example, tapping his foot perfectly and making sure it was loud enough for Alfred to hear.
"Tap with me," Arthur said, and Alfred tapped with him, in sync with both Arthur and the music.
"Hm. Good."
"Great!" Alfred grinned.
Arthur stopped tapping, and Alfred instantly fell off the beat, creating a rhythm of his own.
"..."
Arthur began tapping again, loud enough for Alfred to hear, and Alfred instantly matched his tapping. Arthur continued for a while, frowning slightly, before he stopped. This time, Alfred was able to keep up the beat for a while before he fell slightly off again, but not as much as before.
Arthur changed the song again, tapping to the beat. Alfred copied him, and when Arthur stopped Alfred was able to keep up the beat again. He changed pieces yet again, this time allowing Alfred to try on his own, and although he was still slightly off it was better than before.
Well, Arthur had his work cut out for him, that was for sure.
But they didn't call him the perfect gentleman for nothing.
He was going to make sure that Alfred Jones was the best bloody dancer on the dance floor.
All in all, it took Arthur around an hour to accustom Alfred to the kind of music he'd be hearing, as well as get him to pick out the beat and tap his foot to it.
"Very good, Alfred," Arthur sighed, feeling a headache come on.
He turned off the CD player, glad to have accomplished something.
At least the lad learned quickly.
"So, Alfred, your assignment for the week is to listen to more ballroom music."
"Aw, man, I have assignments?"
"Yes," Arthur said, narrowing his eyes. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"No, no...uh, hey, I know you're injured and all, but..."
Arthur looked at him, tilting his head slightly.
"I was wondering if...if we could meet more than once a week?"
Arthur froze.
Honestly, Alfred was impossible to predict. First he hated Arthur, didn't care at all about dance, and now he wanted to have more lessons than previously scheduled?
"I-I know that my parents are paying you, so I can ask them to -"
"They're not paying me," Arthur interrupted. "I'm doing this for free."
Alfred gaped at him.
"You're kidding."
"I'm afraid I'm not."
"But...but..."
"Oh, so the big cold Englishman can't do something out of the kindness of his heart?" Arthur responded sarcastically, sighing as he fidgeted with the CD player.
"I didn't say that," Alfred said softly, looking at the floor.
Arthur sighed.
Everything constantly screamed for him to push Alfred away, but he had forgotten that the American had done nothing to deserve it. It was all Arthur's problem and Arthur's problem alone, after all.
"I know. I apologize."
"No problem, buddy."
"I'm not your 'buddy.'"
"Bud?"
"What?"
Alfred laughed, shaking his head.
"Never mind."
"But the answer to your question is yes," Arthur said after a while, looking at Alfred. "Just give me a ring whenever you want a lesson."
Alfred's eyes widened, and he suddenly burst out laughing. Arthur stared at him, confused.
"What's so funny?"
"Oh my...oh, Jesus, sorry Arthur, I just..." Alfred guffawed, wiping tears from his eyes. "Okay. Okay, I'm good."
"What the bloody hell was that all about?"
"No, you meant phone call, right?"
"...Yes, that's what I said."
"No...no, it's nothing," Alfred said, a small grin on his face. "But can I text you too?"
Arthur blinked.
"I suppose you can."
"Sweet! What's your number?"
Arthur slowly stood up, and Alfred rushed to his side, a tentative hand on his arm.
"I told you, I don't need your help."
"And I told you to stop being annoying."
Arthur sighed.
But he didn't push Alfred away.
They made their way to the living room, and Arthur took his phone off the table.
"Here," he said, showing it to Alfred. Alfred eagerly copied down the number, then showed Arthur his own.
"So, like, what times are good for you?"
"Afternoons are convenient."
"Great! So is three good?"
"Is five too late for you?"
"No, I was just thinking...if I'm gonna get anywhere with this, we should probably meet for longer."
Arthur looked up at him, surprised.
Then suspicious.
"You seem a lot more...enthusiastic compared to our last meeting," Arthur commented, his eyes slightly narrowed.
Alfred stared at him before grinning.
"Yeah, well, I realized something."
"What did you realize?"
"It's a secret," Alfred teased. "Uh, so, should I get going?"
"Not unless you wanted some late afternoon tea," Arthur responded sarcastically, but Alfred took him seriously.
"Do you have coffee?"
"...I might."
"Can I have that? I'll go get it!" Alfred exclaimed, rushing away to the kitchen.
Arthur sat down on the couch, stunned.
Had he just invited the obnoxious American who hated him to tea, of all things?
"So, how long have you been in the States?"
"Not too long. It's a vacation, of sorts. My father's been busy with work here, as you know, and he decided to bring me along."
"Huh. So you grew up in England?"
"Yes. I spent my teenage years in London," Arthur said with a small smile. "Though my family is from the countryside."
"So, uh...they teach you all that gentleman-y stuff there?"
Arthur's lip twitched.
"Perhaps. Though the influence is mostly my father's."
"So he taught you everything?"
"No," Arthur said after a while. "It was mine to learn, through trial and error. Though none of that matters now."
Alfred leaned forward slightly, frowning.
"What does that mean?"
"What does what mean?"
"I dunno, you just seemed..." Alfred waved his hand in the air.
"It's all silly, isn't it?" Arthur asked, a small smile on his face. "Roles. Expectations." He clamped his mouth shut before he went any further.
Honestly, had he lost his mind? And Alfred was the last person he should be discussing his personal life with!
"And yourself? What have you been doing?" Arthur asked quickly in an effort to distract Alfred.
"Trying to avoid Natalia," Alfred admitted, making a disgusted face. "Like, she's great and all, but I'm really not into that."
Arthur chuckled.
"Oh? And what are you into?"
"Curious?" Alfred asked, winking, and Arthur looked down immediately.
"Well, I'll tell you."
"I don't care," Arthur said immediately.
Defensively.
And he'd never admit that it hurt him to say that.
"Well, uh...just in case you wanna know, for later...I like not-crazy chicks. Lighthearted, fun, not too stingy or overly-attached..."
"Hm," Arthur said, a sound of acknowledgement.
From what Francis had told him, he was the exact opposite of that. Insecure, a terrible drunk, and definitely way too attached although he pretended not to be. Rarely lighthearted, definitely not fun...
He laughed inside at how ill-suited they were for each other.
"Well, perhaps Natalia is more than you think she is," Arthur said thoughtfully. "Maybe she's just shy in front of you."
"No, I mean..." Alfred shuddered. "She's way too...not-shy. She's either hanging all over me or glaring daggers at me, and she has this weird obsession with her brother...I really can't tell whether she wants to marry me or him."
Arthur wrinkled his nose.
"Her brother?"
"Yeah, this dude called Ivan? Totally psycho. And he's creeped out by her too, but he's super protective at the same time, and I keep getting these threats in my inbox..." Alfred shook his head, distressed. "Their entire family is a mess. Except for Kat. She's all right. Honestly, I'd pick Kat over Natalia just because she's the only normal one..."
Arthur looked up, a sympathetic smile on his face.
"That's quite a mess you found yourself in."
"I know, right?" Alfred sighed. "Honestly, nobody gets it! I tried complaining to Matthew, but he just thinks I'm lucky. Getting to inherit the company, marry a hot rich chick..."
It made sense. It seemed like Alfred had everything.
But Arthur could tell now that he was the opposite.
He was lost, confused, and didn't want any of the responsibility forced on him.
"Still, an arranged marriage in this day and age," Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know what to say."
"Hey, thanks for listening, though," Alfred said with a small smile.
Arthur frowned.
"Did you try talking to your parents?"
"Yeah, but uh...they won't really listen. Too dead-set on this alliance, you know?"
"And I assume Natalia won't listen?"
"You got that right."
Silence fell as Arthur stared at the ground, gripping his teacup.
A mess, indeed.
"Alfred, it's only been a day..."
Arthur had heard a knock on the door at three, and opened it to find Alfred, buzzing with excitement, as he hurriedly took off his shoes and rushed in.
"I know, but I just had to see you again - I mean, for the lessons!"
Arthur frowned. "Yes, but are you sure you want to -"
"Totally! Let's go for it!"
Arthur sighed as he followed him to the dance room.
"Today, we're going to work on the basic steps."
"Got it."
"You don't have to respond every time I say something."
"Got it."
Honestly, did that twat listen at all?
"What did I just say?"
Alfred chose now of all times not to respond, and sometimes Arthur wondered whether he tried to make him angry on purpose.
"Anyway," Arthur continued, sighing, "I hope you recall how I made you walk around the room yesterday. I want you to take that same ease and confidence and begin the waltz with your left foot, stepping forward. I want you to learn the movements first, and then you will dance with a partner."
"You mean, you."
"Yes," Arthur said, putting his hands on his hips.
He had loaded up on painkillers and wrapped extra tape around his foot so he was ready, but he could still feel the pain.
"Uh...okay."
"Step forward."
Alfred stuck out his left foot, but it didn't go straight.
Arthur sighed.
This was going to be a long lesson.
"Alfred...I said your left foot."
Two hours later, Arthur was still teaching him the basic form and moves.
Alfred was unbelievably clumsy, and there were times when Arthur considered giving up.
But he didn't.
"...close your feet, now...close, Alfred!"
Alfred stumbled, tripped, and fell, landing on his chest.
"Oww!"
"Oh, bloody - are you all right?"
It was the fifth time he had fallen in the past hour.
"Arthur, I'm hopeless," Alfred groaned as he sat up, a large frown on his face. "This is dumb."
"Nonsense," Arthur said immediately, pulling him up. He was slightly taken aback by Alfred's strength as he hoisted himself up, but he said nothing as he let go of Alfred's hand and took a step back.
"Thanks," Alfred said, smiling down at Arthur as he dusted himself off.
"Look, you're a great teacher - maybe I'm just not meant for this -"
"I will not hear those words from your mouth again, understood?"
Alfred stared at him.
"Okay."
"Good."
Arthur paused, thinking.
"Watch me," he said slowly, demonstrating the movements he had told Alfred to do. He had done them before, as an example, but this time he danced the woman's part.
"See how I step back here? That's where you are. You lead. Where you step, I follow."
He slowly made his way across the room, dancing with a ghost as Alfred followed him around. "See here? My slide matches yours. Now I step back here, again...and I rise when you rise. I fall when you fall."
They made eye contact suddenly, and Arthur looked away, clearing his throat as he slid to a stop.
"A-Anyway, there you have it. Now, we will dance. Together."
Alfred's eyes widened.
"Are you sure? I don't wanna hurt your other foot -"
"Just dance, Alfred," Arthur groaned. Alfred stood in front of Arthur as he took his hand and put his other hand around Arthur's waist.
Arthur flushed slightly as he put his hand on Alfred's shoulder, and internally scolded himself for getting embarrassed suddenly.
"All right," he said. "Now move."
"Can you start?"
"Alfred."
Alfred frowned as he moved forward, jerkily, suddenly, and he almost stepped on Arthur's bad foot.
But Arthur moved back swiftly, matching him.
"There. Was that so bad?"
Alfred's eyes widened.
"You're amazing, Arthur!"
"That was nothing," Arthur scoffed. "Keep going."
Alfred's grip on Arthur's waist and hand tightened as he moved his foot to the side.
Again, Arthur matched him.
They were going at a snail's pace, but Alfred was doing exponentially better with Arthur than without.
"Can I turn?" Alfred asked, and Arthur raised an eyebrow. Alfred grinned as he slowly made his way across the room, turning and gliding whenever he saw fit.
And Arthur followed him, surprised as Alfred took more and more risks.
As Alfred began to bend his knees more, to rise and fall, Arthur followed, until Alfred suddenly tripped.
And fell over.
Onto Arthur.
Alfred landed on his hands, staring down at Arthur with wide, apologetic eyes.
"Shit. Sorry, Arthur, I keep doing this to you..."
It only took three seconds of eye contact before the two broke into laughter.
"Bloody hell, Alfred..."
Arthur felt tears come to his eyes, but he couldn't stop laughing.
And when he finally recovered, he was staring up into endless blue...
And wait, why was Alfred leaning down...he was close.
Too close.
"A-Anyway, Alfred," Arthur said quickly, tapping Alfred's chest lightly. "You didn't crush my other foot this time. Good work."
Alfred grinned.
"Hey, I try."
"One more favor?"
"Yeah?"
"Get off of me."
Alfred laughed again as he helped Arthur up.
"So, how was I?"
Arthur smiled. Genuinely.
"You were all right, you twat. Keep working on it."
Alfred grinned.
"So, can I come back tomorrow?"