act 5- Remembering something I lost

1763

Oh sweet, sweet victory.

After these years, his war with Francis was finally over.

Not that he minded kicking the French bastards ass, but the feeling of winning wasn't bad, eighter, and also he could finally again come to America just to visit and drink tea.

Of course, there were the native Americans he had allied with, complaining to him now, but he didn't bother. It would figure out somehow.

"Francis was a lot nicer to them" Alfred said explaining while Arthur was sitting down on a chair opposite to him. The Brit waved with a hand in his general direction. "Of course he was, he's a freaking bootlicker. It will work out." He took a sip of his tea, satisfied. He had dared to take his favourite cups out. He had been forced to lock them away during the war so they would be save, and now they were the only luxury Arthur could afford like this. The war had taken too much money. He'd ask America about it later.

Alfred had noticed the rather fancy looking cups and raised an eyebrow about it. The boy was getting sharper with each day, Arthur thought, pleased about it. Alfred had gotten a lot calmer for some time now, which was relaxing, but Arthur felt uncertain about the shadow that would darken the blue of his eyes from time to time.

But right now, his eyes were shining at him in their bright bright blue, obviously happy the fighting was over. Arthur couldn't help but smile, he really was still a child, even with his body grown so big.

"I'm glad it's over. Of course I could have gone longer!" the younger said, smirking.

"Don't be too full of yourself" the Brit replied by default. Alfreds smile only grew wider.

"Now thats the Iggy I want to see" he said an laughed softly. Arthur just closed his eyes and drank his tea, pretending he didn't hear anything. Alfred had always be pissed easily about how bossy Arthur got during fights.

"Don't call me that. Are you okay, by the way?" he asked, rising his eyes to look at him. Alfred was smiling at him again. There was something in his eyes he could not name. The colony didn't answer. "Alfred?"

Blue eyes blinked, realising the other had spoken. "Ha?"

"It's 'excuse me', when will you ever learn it?"

The idiotic smile grew even larger, and Arthur was getting suspicious. Usually America would get grumpy about being lectured at this point.

"I'm fine. I'm awesome after all! You should rather look after yourself, shortie~!"

A deep wrinkle appeared in between Arthurs bushy eyebrows and he scowled, only causing Alfred to laugh again. The European rose from his chair and walked over to the counter, refilling his cup with his beloved tea. He wouldn't let Alfred take his good mood with his teasing. He was his master after all.

"These cups look so old, why are you keeping them?" Alfred asked, turning his in his hand. He wasn't drinking anything.

"Good old Beth gave them to me."

The Blonde set down the cup on the table immediately at hearing that. Good thing Arthur didn't see his face as he was with his back to him.

"Well.. " he heard his colony begin, the voice a bit lower than before, "it seems like you are the only one left possessing me."

"Yes, finally" Arthur said softly. It had been a long fight after all. "Was about bloody time."

He hadn't heard Alfred standing up. Just when he turned around to go back, he found the blond right in front of him. Close.

He blinked a few times, not looking up. His eyes were on a level with his collar, which wasn't really tidy, Arthur noted in the back off his head, but he didn't say anything about it. Something was off. Something that made the Brit swallow. Something how close America was while doing seemingly nothing. Soon the counter was in his back and he was trapped, one of Alfred's arms right beside him, his hand on the edge of counter.

Something hot bubbled inside Arthur's chest, though he tired to ignore it. But he couldn't help but think that if Alfred did something right now, he wouldn't know what to do. He could feel his cheeks burning and sweared under his breath.

"Alfred, what.." he stared but lost his words as he raised his head to see Alfred's eyes. His own green eyes went wide with shock. Alfred eyes were a dark blue, the dark blue colour he hated so much. These eyes, staring at him possessively, watching him fondly, screaming: 'mine, mine, you are mine!'

Everything happened fast. Before he could think about it Arthur flinched away from him. Before he could react he could see the eyes of the one he loved grow even darker, angry, and most of all, hurt. So terribly hurt. It gave Arthur's heart an extra stab. So he was serious. He swallowed, but his throat was dry and hurt.

The Americas was still standing close to him, bent forward, and Arthur could feel him rising a hand to touch his face, when it his him like a ton of bricks. He wouldn't give in to Alfred if he was like this. He simply couldn't! It was so wrong! This wasn't the person he loved, this was a stranger whose actions he couldn't estimate. A hard thought crossed his frantic mind. Maybe Alfred wouldn't even want him this way.

"Don't touch me!"

It hurt. Talking to his closest friend like this. The big hand stopped, hovering only centimetres over his cheek.

A loud crush, the full cup hit the wall, spluttering the hot liquid all over, the china splitting into tiny, incognizable pieces. Arthur watched it , eyes wide in horror.

"Fine, stay with your royals then. They will die like all humans, just like your queen did."

He couldn't move. He could not meet Alfred's eyes. Even after the colony had turned on its heels and stormed off, and he felt like screaming, kicking and crying, he couldn't. So he only shivered helplessly over losing what was most important to him, the china already forgotten.

It was long after midnight when Arthur shuffled down the stairs and into the kitchen, rubbing one of his puffy eyes.

This memory had been long forgotten, eaten by the time and when he was earnest, he just wanted to forget it. But earlier, the breaking china had been enough to make him remember, the memory rushing into his mind all too suddenly.

He looked around. The broken piece was nowhere to be seen. Getting slightly nervous, he looked into all cupboards and shelves, but didn't find it. He felt like crying again. Did Alfred throw it away?

It was nowhere, not in even in the trash bin.

Arthur sat down and laid his head on top of his arms, feeling miserable. He wouldn't ask the loud idiot about it. He'd ignore it like he always did.

Just because it was so much easier this way.

Complementary to chapter four.

I'm seriously unsure if this turned out like I wanted it too. I'll leave out the whole actually revolution part because that's just old. And Arthur did his part in the mess, too. He's always shown as the victim there but he clearly wasn't. I understand why Alfred is pissed about it.

Oh yeah, historical background. I figure that a lot of you already looked up Americas history for the lulz, because that's just part of shipping this pairing.

1763 the 'French and Indian War', (part of the 'Seven Years' War' which was mostly taking place between Arthur and Francis in Europe but partly in America, too) ended and Francis let go his parts of Alfred (and Canada, too, if I remember correctly), leave out some small islands. Both Francis and Arthur had quite financial problems afterwards, which are seemingly the reason for the famous high taxed he wanted Alfred to pay. Oh, also the native Americans on Arthur side weren't too happy about him afterwards because the French used to bring them fine presents and the Brits didn't.

I can't promise this is right, correct me if there is a bad mistake.

And also, sorry for skipping between human names and nations names, I just can't decide~