Before Arthur could formally introduce himself to the quiet boy, Alfred interrupted.
"Dude, you're so quiet no one can hear you. You're too polite, man. Stop being so Canadian… ooh look, a tire swing, let's go play on that, c'mon you two!" Said the loud American child
Arthur mentally noted Alfred's extremely short attention span before the boy (rather unexpectedly) dragged Arthur and Matthew by the arms through the muddy grass to the tire swing with great speed.
'What just happened!? How in the bloody hell is he so strong!?' thought Arthur, standing up to look at the damage done to his once clean clothes. Mud. Mud everywhere. Really, Arthur was getting a bit sick of getting covered in mud.
"I-I'm really s-sorry about my brother. He does this, please forgive him." Whispered Matthew
Arthur, having forgotten that Matthew was standing near him, suddenly knew how Ralph felt when people (read: Alvise) just appeared next to him.
'It's creepy how they do that' thought Arthur, calming down.
Arthur crouched down to get at eye level with Alfred's twin "You shouldn't have to apologise for someone else's actions." Arthur glanced at Alfred climbing on the tire swing "And I didn't get to say this earlier; I'm Arthur Kirkland, not 'Artie'. Nice to meet you Matthew" the two boys shook hands.
"Are you two done chatting? I wanna be pushed on the tire!" yelled (normal talk for him maybe?) Alfred. Matthew looked at Arthur. He obviously wanted to swing with Alfred. Arthur sighed. What is it that makes tire swings so fantastic?
"Yeah sure, I'll push the two of you all the way to the moon. I'm just that strong" Arthur rolled up his sleeves.
"When we do go to the moon, the first one to go will be American!" said Alfred
"Nu-uh! They'll be Canadian!" said Matthew almost talking loudly enough for his voice to pass as normal volume.
"I think you're both wrong; they'll be English!" said Arthur, laughing and pushing the two eight year olds as high as he could.
After about an hour of swinging and rolling around in the mud, the three boys had tired (puns!) themselves out and were sitting under a tree in the partial darkness with the lights from the moon and house as their light sources. Arthur checked his watch; 9:00 pm. The two boys were falling asleep on his lap.
"Mom and Dad will be here to pick us up soon…" started Alfred
"They will, they will. I wonder where they are, it's late." finished Matthew
"Indeed. They'll be here soon, I'm sure." Said Arthur
"Hey, Arthur?"
"Yes, Alfred?"
"Where's your family?" he asked drowsily
Arthur pondered it for a few seconds. He didn't know the answer, not truly. All that was left of their bodies was six feet underground in a graveyard somewhere in London, and he didn't want make these two sad. Also he doubted they understood the concept of death. Very few eight year olds do.
"Well… they might be somewhere, they're just not here" That was really all he could say.
"You sound sad…" said Matthew. Alfred had already fallen asleep and Mathew was on the verge of doing the same when the tall man that looked suspiciously a lot like Alfred came out into the garden, greeted Arthur quietly, and took the sleeping children away.
Arthur yawned; he was getting rather sleepy too.
He had been having so much fun that he'd forgotten about his leg. Even though he'd said he was tough and manly he'd been trying to put as little weight on it as possible to make it less painful. And as I said earlier, he'd forgotten about it somehow, so when he tried to stand up, he collapsed. Sitting up against the tree, he pulled up his trouser leg to reveal a nasty blue-purple bruise spanning most of his shin that wasn't there this morning.
He must've seen Arthur from the kitchen window or something, because seconds later Antonio came running outside.
"Aw shit, Arturo that looks really bad"
"It feels really bad, Anthony"
At that moment the Spaniard hoisted Arthur up and placed the Brit's arm over his shoulder.
"What are you doing?" asked Arthur
"Helping you walk" replied Antonio as they started a slow pace back to the dorm.
"Why not carry me?" asked Arthur
"I'm tired, I've been gardening all afternoon~" replied Antonio
"Lazy arse"
"Says the one who needs help to walk"
"I can't help that-"
"I'm helping you."
"… Fine…" Arthur knew he was being sort of unfair, but he didn't like Antonio. At all.
When they got into the upstairs dorm hallway near the bathroom, Arthur requested to be let go so he could wash the mud off his face and hands. His hair would have to wait till morning.
Antonio sighed, letting him go "I'm sorry, Artu-" He had to stop and correct himself "I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm sure Francis and Gilbert are too. I hope you get less angry at us eventually. Everyone will be a lot happier" With that he walked down the hall and into the room he shared with Francis.
Having cleaned up, brushed his teeth, hobbled back to his room and changed into his pyjamas, Arthur was ready to sleep. He was coughing a lot less now; he just hoped his leg wouldn't stop him from going to school.
A/N: I forgot to do this before but I'm making a list of things that shouldn't exist but do in this fic. I can think of one thing so far:
Italian Ninjas. The worst kind of ninja.