Chapter eighteen – I'm sorry

Ludwig stood in front of Lovino and Antonio's dormitory, staring at his own feet. A door had never looked so terrifying to him before. It was almost as if it's sprouted hairy arms and legs and was threatening to choke him. Of course, his hard exterior didn't give away any emotion – he made sure of that, especially as Lovino was standing next to him with a smug grin, knowing that he was probably terrified out of his wits.

"Go on then," Lovino sounded all too happy, "Open the door and apologise to my brother."

Ludwig clenched his fist, and tried to move his arm to open the door. Nothing happened.

"What's the matter?" Lovino said, putting on a mock curios, concerned voice.

Ludwig glared down at the Italian, "I-I… can't."

"Yes you can! A big, scary guy like you isn't afraid of a little wood, is he?" You could tell Lovino was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Shut up, will you? It's what's behind the door that's…" Ludwig didn't want to finish his sentence.

"Fine, seems I do everything around here," all of a sudden, Lovino's smirk had gone, and he started to sound a little more serious. He reached down for the door handle, but before he pushed the door open, he caught Ludwig's gaze for less than a second. Ludwig knew what the stare meant – it wasn't a stare of encouragement, but a warning. If Feliciano was hurt as the product of all this, Ludwig would have Lovino to answer to.

The door was pushed open, and a call from Antonio in the main room came through another open door in front of them, "Hey Lovi, come on through!"

"Come here, Toni," Lovino called back, giving Ludwig a warning look.

"Hmm? What's up?" Antonio poked his head though the open door to look into the little porch-thing every dorm had, and saw Ludwig, "Oh. You."

Why does no one like me!? Ludwig was mentally banging his head against a wall. He could be a dick at times – he could admit that! But he could be a nice guy! Nicer than Lovino, by all means; so why on earth was he hated more than the sour Italian?

"Yes, it's me," Ludwig said weakly, "Can I talk to Feliciano, please?"

Lovino could obviously see Antonio's restraint, "Trust me, Toni, you want to see this."

Antonio frowned; Ludwig could tell if Lovino hadn't have been there, a very different ending would've played out. "Fine. He's in the kitchen. I just got him to stop crying."

Ludwig nodded, knowing if he said anything else it'd probably be ignored. Hesitantly, he slipped through the door, quickly pacing across the length of the main room – he was afraid if he went too slow then he might just chicken out of it. He reached the kitchen door and took a deep breath, clearing his throat gently, and was about to start flattening his hair before he realised he was being ridiculous.

Lifting his arm which now felt as heavy as lead, he gently tapped the wood.

"Toni, is that you? Or is it Lovi?" Feliciano's voice sounded quite raw. Antonio had obviously been telling the truth about the crying.

Ludwig began to open the door while saying, "Eh… No. It's… me."

He stood quite awkwardly in the doorway as Feliciano gawked at him.

"… Hi…" Ludwig broke the silence awkwardly.

"Hi…" Feliciano matched, now avoiding Ludwig's gaze.

Ludwig then played out many scenarios in his head. From here he could try and create light conversation and make things ten times more awkward, or he could not beat around the bush and just get straight to the point. The latter would be a lot less painfully awkward.

"Look, Feliciano…" Ludwig said, he didn't feel that he had the right to call Feliciano by his nickname right now, "I came here to apologise."

Feliciano said nothing, but just pointed to the chair opposite him on the table, obviously issuing for Ludwig to sit down. Ludwig happily obliged, and then continued.

"I'm not going to pretend that I was a bad boyfriend to you – hell I was a bad friend full stop. I took you for granted, and no one should ever do that. I acted as if you would always be there for me, no matter how much I neglected you. I put equations before you – little markings on a piece of paper before the person I love. It doesn't even make sense to me. I can understand it was you breaking up with me – I don't blame you – but, I'm here to at least make things a good end between us if you won't take me back."

Feliciano lifted his head up off the table, "You know I didn't break up with you because you were neglecting me – I broke up with you because I felt I was holding you back, Ludwig."

Ludwig rubbed his forehead, "And you shouldn't have thought that – it's just so typical you to think that! Always putting other people before you… It's stupid – counterproductive… I can't make sense of it… But I can definitely say it's one of your best qualities. Even though it makes no sense, it's a wonderful thing to do. One of the most human things to do. I love you for it, I still do."

Feliciano smiled slightly, "But Ludwig, you're going to have to choose. I can't go into the same position we were in before – not just for your sake, but for mine too… Lovino and Antonio made me realise what you just said there – that you were being unfair to me. I don't particularly mind, but we can't let it go back to that, right? So you can either date me again, or you can go and study to become the great man you could be. I'm not saying if you want to date me you don't get to study at all, just not all hours of the day. Maybe you could do my homework, too," he added jokingly.

Ludwig smiled, taking Feliciano's hand, "I don't even have to think about that decision."

Feliciano smiled.

"I'll take the studying." Ludwig said flatly.

There was a moment of silence, Feliciano started at him, stunned.

Ludwig then burst out laughing, "Joking, joking!"

Feliciano still blinked, "You made a joke?"

"Well you did always say I needed a better sense of humour," Ludwig mumbled, now feeling a little embarrassed, "I can tell by your reaction that it wasn't the best place to joke."

"Ehh… not really," Feliciano giggled nervously, "But at least you tried?"

Ludwig smiled, "I guess I'll never really have a sense of humour."

"Don't worry, I still love you~" Feliciano squeezed Ludwig's hand a little, and leaned in for a kiss.

Now, although Feliciano and Ludwig had dated for quite a while, Ludwig still wasn't used to the whole kissing thing. He always felt he did it quite badly. So this time, he took extra care when placing his lips atop of Feliciano's. He quite liked it when Feliciano took control. Despite his childish nature, Feliciano's Italian heritage showed through the minute things got a little romantic, and he proved he could be very mature.

So, as Feliciano began taking control of the kiss, Ludwig melted into the usual routine of their kisses. He had missed them an awful lot. This definitely beat studying.

Unaware of the embrace going on in his kitchen, Lovino had begun to feel a little peckish. He listened at the kitchen door, and when he made sure there was no shouting, he decided it would probably be safe to go and grab a churro or two for him and Antonio.

He didn't expect to see the sight of Feliciano on the table, slowly climbing on top of Ludwig's lap.

Lovino cursed, hating to see Feliciano be remotely sexual – it was just wrong, damn it! Everyone knew that Feliciano was as innocent as they came! "Right okay you two. That's enough. It's weird enough for you to be doing this – but on my table? That's where I'm going to eat!"

They ignored him and carried on.

"Hey!"

"Lovino what's goin- oooh. Right." Antonio wondered over, and answered his own question as soon as he lay eyes on the scene, "And on the table too…"

"Exactly what I was thinking. Right. I'll grab Feli, you take the German," Lovino rolled up his sleeves.

Antonio was about to protest, but Lovino had already begun charging at his brother, wrestling him off the German. Shrugging, Antonio joined in; doing his best to drag the chair Ludwig was sitting on away from the Italian.

Soon the Spaniard and Italian somehow managed to carry both Ludwig and Feliciano to the door, place them outside – though Lovino had been very tempted to throw Ludwig across the hall. The only thing stopping him was the minor factor that Ludwig was very heavy – and locked the door on them, ignoring any complaints Feliciano moaned through the door.

"Jesus they're animals…" Lovino frowned, sitting down on the sofa.

"Well to be fair, we're not much better," Antonio grinned flirtatiously.

"Yeah, but we're older… and we know what we're doing… kind of."

"Shut up and kiss me, Lovi."

"Obliged."

Antonio and Lovino didn't pay any attention to the fact that Ludwig and Feliciano were doing the very same thing, only on their doorstep. At least things seemed to have fixed themselves.

The following day at lunch, Arthur was rushing down the corridor, attempting to get to the canteen as quick as he could without looking like he was running. He was incredibly annoyed and frustrated, as Alastair had somehow managed to get him in a detention, by throwing a paper aeroplane at Mr. Belischmidt, and planting another one in Arthur's pocket, making him look like the guilty party. He had no idea what his brother's motive for doing such a random act had been, but nonetheless, it'd given him half an hour with his beloved head teacher writing out lines.

His brothers – all of them in fact, well apart from Peter – had been acting very weird the past day or two. First there was the random act of Owain decorating their apartment with material, and then Arthur had attempted to find Alastair all day yesterday to ask him if he could stay the night, but no one knew where he was. Not even Gilbert. It was like he'd disappeared off the face of the Earth, almost. The Twins were also being odd. Arthur had eventually begged at their doorstep to stay over with them. They'd agreed, but all night they read him fairytales. It was incredibly random, and Arthur couldn't work out what was going on.

Little did he know, he was about to find out.

Arthur finally reached the canteen, hoping there'd still be some food left over for him, even though there was only twenty minutes of lunch left. Arthur was in such a rush he didn't notice that there was quite a crowd around the canteen, loud murmurings, flashes of cameras… and girls from Coverack were there too, apparently.

But Arthur was so focused on his food; he just walked straight past this.

He nearly walked straight past the very obvious crowd around a little cluster of tables. He only looked up because he accidentally walked into a girl from Coverack. He was about to carry on walking until he stopped himself – asking the obvious question of why is a girl in an all-boy's school? This then led him on to see the crowd of both boys and girls all muttering excitedly.

"There he is!" came a familiar voice, and out of no where, Arthur spun around, and found Owain launching himself on to Arthur.

"Owain, what the hell's going on?" Arthur demanded.

"You'll see," Owain had a particularly malicious grin on his face, and covered Arthur's eyes with his hands.

"Get off me! I'm trying to get food for God's sake! Owain!" Arthur really wasn't in the mood for this.

"Don't worry, little brother," suddenly Alastair's voice appeared, though Arthur couldn't tell from where, "You'll have forgotten about your stomach very soon."

Suddenly Arthur felt his feet being pulled off the ground. Alastair was lifting him up!

"Jesus – Alastair, put me down!" Arthur growled. Owain must still be keeping his hands over Arthur's eyes, as Arthur was still as blind as he was angry.

Alastair had now lifted Arthur up across his shoulder, Arthur still squirming and demanding to be let down. Both Owain and Alastair exchanged knowing grins, winking to one another, and brought the fuming little Arthur through to the centre of the crowd.

Letting Arthur down on to his feet, Alastair patted his little brother's hair, "Trust us on this one, mate."

Owain positioned Arthur, making sure he was in the right place, and then very slowly lifted his hand away, giving Arthur his sight back.

As soon as his vision came into focus, Arthur wondered if Alastair had perhaps knocked him out, and this was some distort, weird dream he was having.

In front of Arthur, on top of a tale and sitting on a chair, blushing like fury, was Alfred F. Jones…

In a dress.

Not just any dress. One that looked like a reject design at the Disney Costume Department. It just screamed 'I AM A LITTLE GIRL. GIVE ME UNICORNS.'

And Alfred was wearing it.

Arthur very nearly burst into fits of laughter, but something stopped him. He wasn't entirely sure what. It might be that he wasn't convinced what he was seeing was real, or that he was still too angry, or the very vulnerable expression on Alfred's face.

Of all the things Arthur could've thought to say, he only managed to stutter out, "…What!?"

The silence was deafening. The crowd waited with baited breath, their gazes flicking from Arthur, to Alfred, and back to Arthur again. Owain had tensed up, and was digging his nails nervously into Alastair's arm. If Arthur didn't like his pride and glory of a dress, Owain felt he'd probably be more upset than Alfred.

"I wanted to apologise, Arthur," Alfred said quietly, though voice full of confidence. Apparently the dress he was wearing wasn't embarrassing at all, or at least he wasn't showing any embarrassment.

"And you felt it very important to wear a dress and sit in the middle of the canteen to do so!?" Arthur demanded – he wasn't sure if the sudden embarrassment and rage he was feeling was for himself or for Alfred's sake.

"Actually yes," Alfred said with a smile, "Remember why we started to fight?"

"Of course. You were a complete dick and refused to admit it."

"Exactly. And now, nearly four months after we still haven't made up after something so simple – that's not quite right, don't you think? So I came to the conclusion, quite a while ago, actually, that this isn't a simple argument for you. Obviously something I said then hurt you massively."

"Well yeah, I was kind of assuming you'd already know that – it wasn't too hard for anyone else to understand, after all," Arthur spat, getting more and more pissed off by the second.

"Okay, well I just realised it – I'm stupid! But let me carry on. I figured that me calling you a girl obviously upset you."

Arthur began clapping sarcastically, but Alfred continued regardless.

"So I thought – 'How can I get Arthur to forgive me?' and came up with two conclusions. Either show you that it was okay to have a bit of a feminine side, or to show you that I was wrong when calling you a girl."

"And how exactly does this," Arthur gestured rudely to the hideous dress, "show either of those points?"

"To feel like how you felt when I called you a girl! To show it's wrong and I know it's wrong!" Alfred insisted, now not sounding so sure of himself.

"So you're mocking me?" Arthur said in disbelief.

"No! Arthur, listen to me! I think part of the problem here is that every time I come to fix things with us, you act all sour – turn your back and refuse to listen to what I have to say. And the rare times you do listen, you listen with cynical ears, twisting my words and not even trying to see things from my point of view," Alfred had now jumped on to the floor, had grabbed hold of Arthur's arm, and was holding it very tightly.

Arthur tried to escape his grasp casually, but Alfred's grip was too strong. Arthur decided to let Alfred grab his arm all he wanted. Only when it began tingling and getting numb would Arthur attempt to pull it away. "Oh go on then. Tell me your sob story."

"I will!" Alfred gritted his teeth, "I didn't particularly enjoy our argument – you think I didn't regret the things I'd said to you immediately? I was suffering too when we broke up. Okay, I'll admit – it was my fault I was suffering, but I missed you. I was too much of a coward to come out to apologise to you, which again, is my fault. But then once I built up the courage to admit I was wrong to you – which is a very hard thing to do, I'll have you know – you batted me down without a second thought! I've said this all before and I'll say it again – you're not the only victim in this!"

"You're still feeding yourself delusional lies, I see, Alfred."

"There you go again! Arthur, you're proving my point further! And another thing – you always think that everything I do is out to get to you; to hurt you and annoy you. Perhaps I'm not being a dick to you all the time. Perhaps sometimes, despite everything you think of me, I am trying to do something nice for you. A perfect example is what's going on right now – I come to apologise to you, wearing a mortifying dress, trying to keep my cool and apologise to you; I've probably lowered myself to as low as I can possibly get, I'm vulnerable, I'm a mess both inside and out, because no offence to Owain, this is a hideous dress, I'm scared, I'm apologising, and I'm admitting all of this! Do you know how hard that is? And then here you are accusing me of being a dick to you, and being heartless, and that everything I do is to hurt you. I think I just proved my point that you're wrong."

No one said a word.

Arthur stared at Alfred, expression giving nothing away.

Finally, swallowing, Arthur said quite dryly, "I think the problem here is neither of us, for a long time, could see what we were doing wrong. We thought our behaviour was perfectly acceptable – but the other person saw these 'acceptable' qualities, and found them offensive. Only now we're realising just how wrong we both were."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, "Is that an apology, Arthur?"

Arthur took a deep breath, "Yes."

Alfred nodded, "Good. Then I'm sorry too. For everything I said, and for acting to childishly. And for looking like a complete twat."

"No need to apologise for that last one – that's just normal for you," Arthur said, a hint of a smile to his voice.

A grin spread across Alfred's face, and he threw his arms around Arthur. Arthur smiled into Alfred's shoulder; until his smile suddenly disappeared as he realised Alfred was shaking. Why on earth was he shaking? Arthur pulled out of the hug, to see huge tears seeping out of Alfred's eyes.

Arthur knew exactly what to do. Keeping hold of Alfred, he quickly made his way over to Owain.

"Look, I need to get Alfred out of here – have a talk with him. Cover for me the last two lessons, will you? Just say I was ill or something," he said in an undertone to his brother, who was nodding quickly.

"I'm glad it worked out for you," Owain smiled, though he obviously looked a little distraught that both Alfred and Arthur detested the dress. Owain was quite pleased with it, if he was honest.

"It hasn't been fixed yet. Don't get your hopes up – I know I'm not. I want it to work. But you know me and Alfred – one of us could say something very stupid. Most likely me," Arthur sighed, pinching his forehead. He was trying to calm himself down; come across as annoyed and short as to avoid embarrassment, though on the inside it felt like his stomach had entered a gymnastics event in the Organ Olympics.

Arthur and Alfred were making an escape out the back of the canteen just as the bell went. The crowd seemed torn between doing the right thing and going to class or doing the thing they all wanted to do and go to follow Arthur and Alfred. Luckily for the pair, Alastair, who was looking particularly threatening today, seemed to make up the crowd's minds that their lessons were a lot more important than a bit of gossip.

Owain waited patiently for Alastair at the door as the crowd cleared out. By now Arthur and Alfred had scampered out, probably to either of their rooms. Owain told Francis to go ahead to class without him, as he wanted to chat with Alastair. However, even once he was finished scaring the whole crowd out of the canteen he stayed where he was, making no signals he was planning to follow Owain out the door. Confused, the Welsh boy wondered up to his brig brother.

"Not coming to class?"

"Not likely," Alastair frowned, "Never know with those two. Might start biting each other's necks off."

Owain matched Alastair's expression, "Well go and check on them, then?"

"If you'd broken up with Francis and just got back together with him, would you want me looming over your shoulder?" Alastair said, raising an eyebrow.

"Good point," Owain chewed on his lip. "Well if I were you, I'd just sit outside the room by the door. The walls aren't particularly soundproof, so if they start shouting you'll be able to hear them and jump in as the dashing Scottish hero."

"Hm. I like that."

"Well of course you would you narcissist," Owain grinned cheekily. "Go on, go and spy on our little brother, then. I'm off to class; I don't particularly want a detention."

"Have fun," Alastair said with a genuine smile, "Oh, and Owain?"

"Mm?"

"Your dress was very well made."

Owain spun around with a beaming smile on his face, "I'm glad you agree with me!"

Chuckling, Alastair turned to leave, "Go on with ya. See you later, Owain."

"Bye, Al!"

A/N

Ahaha. I'm back for the end of the world! The world can't end without me – kind of – getting Alfie and Artie (and Luddy and Feli) back together again :') and this time it is the real deal. I promise.
But we're not over just yet! I can't exactly remember what problems I have to fix (but don't worry. I will re read it and know what's what… probably) but they will be fixed. I can't guess how many chapters we have left, if I'm honest X'D
:3 good luck with the apocalypse, everyone.
And happy Christmas, because let's be realistic, I'm probably not going to update before then... X'D
HAVE A GOOD NEW YEAR. AND GET ALL THE PRESENTS YOU WANT!
Love you all!