Chapter Two
"Come on, Matthew!" Alfred shouted to his friend.
Matthieu smiled at the the nickname Alfred had given him and ran after the blond boy. When they first met, Alfred couldn't say his name even though it was fairly easy- Matt-u -and so 'Matthew' it became.
The two boys were outside playing in the backyard, squealing and having fun. The grass was green and lush. There were a couple rosemary bushes near the fence and a large tree stood in the middle, providing shade for anyone who dared to get close.
There were a couple toys strung around in the yard. A toy fire truck, a couple soldiers, a ball, and Matthieu's stuffed polar bear, Mr. Kumajirou. This was more toys than Matthieu had. Actually, his only toy was Mr. Kumajirou, so Matthieu was having fun.
'I wonder what Angelique is doing... And how Lux feels... He is sick after all.' he wondered and stopped running after Alfred, instead choosing to lean against the maple tree deep in thought. 'Didn't Lux come to me instead of Big Brother Francis? Hmm... Maybe he tr-'
Matthieu was thrust back into the real world when he felt someone jump on his back. He fell under weight with a small 'oomf'.
"Matthew!" someone whined from above him. "You weren't chasing me! What's the point in playing tag if you are not gonna chase me?"
"It's 'going to' and get off of him, you git! Can't you see that your weight is unbearable?" a British accent filled Matthieu's ears and suddenly the weight was gone.
"Brother! What are ya doin' here?" Alfred ran to the blonde British man, tugging on his pant leg to get his attention.
The blonde haired, green eyed, with massive eyebrows man sighed, patting Alfred's head. He tried in vain to stick down the little cowlick that stood up from the rest dirty blonde hair. "Alfred... I live here."
"Oh... That's right! You do live here!" Alfred started to tug at his older brother's hand. "Play with us! Play with us!" he chanted over and over.
"Hello, Mr. Arthur," Matthieu said from the ground. He hadn't gotten up yet, due to lack of air.
"Hello, Matthieu." Unlike Alfred, Mr. Arthur could pronounce Matthieu's name. "How are you?"
Matthieu propped himself up on his elbows and said, "I'm fine, but Lux is sick. I'm worried about him."
Alfred suddenly let go of Arthur and ran to his friend. "Lux is sick! That's horrible! What's wrong with him? Is he throwing up? Have you taken him to the hospital? What if he dies?"
Matthieu and Alfred both gasped in unison.
"What if he dies?" Matthieu repeated as if in a trance. "Mr. Arthur! What if Lux dies?"
Arthur, who had been cleaning up the toy soldiers near the tree looked up and smiled kindly. When he smiled, Arthur looked really nice and not scary, even if the eyebrows kind of were. "He wouldn't leave you. Besides, the frog told me that it was just a small cold."
"What if Frog Francis lied?" Alfred stood up in a defensive position in front of his friend.
"Please. That frog wouldn't lie to me," Arthur scoffed and stood brushing off his blue jeans, fixing his light green shirt.
Alfred ran to Arthur clinging on his leg. "You wouldn't lie to me, right?" Alfred's blue eyes were filled with tears. "I don't wanchya to lie to me or Matthew!"
Arthur sighed in exasperation. How many times must he tell the boy to use proper English? "One, Alfred, it's 'want you'. Two of course I wouldn't lie. I've told you countless times before not to lie, so why would I?"
Alfred smiled brightly and looked at his best friend still on the ground. "Did you hear, Matthew? Brother says that he wouldn't lie and that Lux isn't gonna die! Isn't that awesome?"
"It's 'going to' you git." The British man flicked his younger brother's forehead softly while Matthieu smiled shyly.
"Thank you, Alfred, Mr. Arthur. I'm glad I have friends like you two." The eight year old boy picked himself off the ground and walked to over to the two other boys. Then he tapped Alfred on the shoulder and grinned. "Your 'it'!"
Alfred laughed and let go of Arthur's leg, running after Matthieu. And Arthur smiled to himself and walked inside his house which was fairly big and painted a light blue. There were many flowers everywhere for he and his two brothers enjoyed planting. Peter, his other little brother, was over at his friend, Raivis' house. He and the other light haired boy were almost always inseparable.
Arthur sighed and began cooking some food for the small eight year olds who were squealing and playing around in the yard.
'Mom... How dare you leave us? I'm barely sixteen years old and you run off to stupid la-la-land and leave me to take care of two boys!' the British teen held the knife he was holding tighter in his hands. The already pale knuckles turning whiter. 'Mom, I hate you.'