The town they lived in was small, like the very epitome of small town; the biggest street in town was Main which ran right through the center and whenever someone new moved it was a big deal because everyone really did know everyone else. It was really strange then, to Alfred, that he'd never heard of Arthur before that fateful Sunday just a few months back, in June. Not only had Arthur been a newcomer to the town at one time, he had also been a foreigner with a lovely accent; how had Arthur escaped the buzz of the town's gossip?
It seemed that Arthur's unnoticed entrance into the little town had been the ultimate confirmation of his insecurities. He'd spent the whole of his life as the youngest child of a rather large family; for Arthur to go unnoticed was simply a regular occurrence in the Kirkland house where rambunctious boys outnumbered their strong (but worn ragged) mother five-to-one. He moved to America with hopes of starting fresh and finding out whom he was as opposed to simply settling with the identity thrust upon him as "this" or "that" brother's youngest brother; back in England he was rarely addressed by name, outside of his family.
However, even in this little town, Arthur's arrival had hardly stirred up a buzz; there was no excitement for the classy Englishman. But, Arthur was a steadfast gent and ended up staying regardless, besides one out of two of his vague goals was technically in progress. One could learn a lot about themselves through the act of helping other people which is just how Arthur ended up working at the small community's local church in the day care center; he also had his required, once-a-week shift of community service at the community center where the older children often spent their free time.
Though thankless work at the worst of times it was a pretty nice start.
It was thanks to all of this that Arthur simply didn't know how to handle suddenly being the center of someone's whole world. He was beyond thankful and would almost hazard say his prayers had been answered, except that Arthur liked to think he had more control over his own life than fate did. Still, that didn't change the fact that nearly over night, Arthur had gone from being a shadow on the wall that most took for granted to being the light of someone's life or as Alfred put it, "his reason to smile every day". Though, he did get used to the change and Arthur grew to adore all of Alfred's affections: Alfred's genuine excitement when they'd meet in the halls of the community center or on the streets, Alfred's greetings and reminders of just how much he was missed, despite the fact that it had only been at most a couple days, or the way Alfred could look at him, even during a crowded church function as he was surrounded by ten children, as if he were the only person there.
One affection though, that Arthur never got used to, and certainly hoped he never would for as long as he and Alfred were together, was Alfred's, "cure for the Mondays" as he so endearingly called it. Neither man was a fan of the day, especially since weekends were their only private time together-Mondays meant going back to a show of friendliness and nothing more as Arthur was a private man and Alfred was far shier than his boisterous personality would lead one to believe-and so Alfred remedied this by starting every Monday by meeting Arthur at his home so they could walk to work together. Alfred always gave him a few fresh flowers, every Monday morning, and then walked him to work before turning and walking back the way he came, towards the auto shop on the other end of town.