Arthur kept his attention at the book he had brought along with him. His dark green eyes scanning the content on each page, showing no bit of interest. Nobody sat next to Arthur, if they had it would either be the case of not realizing the others' presents. Or merely ignoring one another, passing it by as another annoyance of their day. It was simple as that. Conversations dragged on, laughter echoed through out the train, while different aromas merged together.
'Disgusting, putrid. Why must I face such dreadful things every day?!' Arthur thought as he slammed his book shut. Not minding how loud it was, it drew some unwelcoming looks to him. Some men shot Arthur icy cold glares, while others' grew quiet and only dared to whisper. Not long after, an unsettling atmosphere covered the whispering leaving everyone on the train in complete utter silence. Great. Just prefect, what else could make this more awkward and irritating?
"Hm? Arthur, is that you?" A man asked from next to Arthur. Arthur's eyes widened at the voice, knowing exactly who it was. Snapping his head up, his eyes met with a set of light violet eyes. Their eyes locked and lingered for only a few moments until the man decided to speak, "I take it you don't remember me?"
Arthur blinked, realizing the chattering had resumed. "Nonsense! Roderich Edelstein, born in Austria, my music teacher for the last three years." Arthur sneered. Roderich frowned as he took his set next to Arthur. "So how are yo-
"We don't need to talk about them." Arthur said, interrupting Roderich, witch only made his frown deepen. Neither of the two talked for some time. But for Arthur, he was bored, tried, and utterly sick of his percent situation. The young boy could only tolerate the uneasy tension between him and the man sitting next to him for so long. 'Why must Roderich, of all people, show up now?! I couldn't stand the last visit when brother Scotland and Roderich met! I don't understand why I had to stay in the play room the whole night. What was the problem staying in the room next to brother's?' As Arthur continued to ponder in his thoughts, a twitch became noticeable in his left eye. Roderich wanted to mention it, but he saw no benefit. If he were to do such a thing, Arthur would insistently snap and driving the two to only biker.
And that could go on forever! So, Roderich decided it would be best to save himself from a headache.
As for Arthur ... A headache was already forming from all the senseless questioning. So instead of going to the conclusion that some thing was up between his brother and Roderich, he pushed the possibility away. Sighing dramatically, Arthur leaned back, but felt the need to say something. Not knowing what possibly could be said, he glanced over to Roderich. Roderich, who caught his glance, smiled a bit. "Is there something you need?" Roderich asked.
Arthur could feel the ends of his lips tugging upward, but forcefully manged to keep them down, sustaining the same frown. "I'm going to get some shut eye, so I need you to hold my book for me." Arthur flatly said as he shoved the book into Roderich's hands. Before Roderich could even react, Arthur had already turned away. "Alright. But Arthur, I hope you know," Roderich paused, as if to take in what he was about to say, "Things will get better. Maybe for all of us." Arthur didn't show any signs of acknowledgment. It almost hurt Roderich, but at the same time it didn't surprise him.
Not an ounce of relief was released from either one of them. It only made more unsettling feelings and worries stir up in Arthur. It's true Arthur acts older than he really is, but an appearance of some one doesn't reflect what's inside.
And as the train raged on, running down the tracks, moving closer and closer towards it's destination, Arthur slowly drifted to sleep. As slumber invited him into a different world. Many would think dreams would be happy and joyful thing to experience. But Arthur's dreams would be far from happy. Far from being a world with myths coming to life and lies pushed away. Dreams would be replay after replay of hated memories. It was the truth, the painful truth of his memorized past. Anger, confusion, hatred. Merging into one horrifying feeling Arthur couldn't stand.