Chapter 4

This can't be happening. Arthur had envisioned this scenario so many times that everything about it felt fake, and yet, here Alfred was, on the steps of his home, sheepishly grinning and shuffling nervously.

"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Kirkland," Alfred started, snapping Arthur out of his state of shock. "It's just that, you dropped your phone in the park when we bumped into each other, and I thought I should, ya know, return it I guess? Sorry about the delay I hope you weren't too worried about it."

"It's quite fine, don't fret about it," Arthur replied absentmindedly. In all honesty, he had been too busy to notice that his phone had even been missing in the first place. Besides, he had a bigger issue on his mind. How had Alfred known where he lived?

It seemed he didn't have to wonder for long, because Alfred continued talking. "Sorry if it seems creepy, but I asked that lady you were talking to if you if she knew where you lived, and apparently she's your next door neighbor, huh?"

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, she's my neighbor, but how did you know to talk to her?" Arthur questioned.

Alfred blushed profusely and shuffled some more. "Well, I was kinda watching you when I first saw you in the park. I'm not a stalker, I swear, I just got distracted when I saw you and that's why I bumped into you. I didn't want to say it at the time, but I was too busy thinking and staring into space to watch where I was going. Sorry 'bout that."

Arthur could barely believe what he was hearing. Here he was, barely able to keep his mind off Alfred, and Alfred had been doing the same thing in the park. "Why were you staring at me?" Arthur asked nervously. He didn't want to mess this up, but he was also curious at the same time..

This made Alfred even more nervous. He just stood there, shuffling and staring at the steps of the porch. "Well, um, I was kinda…"

Alfred trailed off, but it should've been obvious to anyone what was going on. Unfortunately, Arthur was so nervous himself that he didn't seem to connect the dots. Still, he felt bad for Alfred. "Want to come in for a cup of tea? I have lots," Arthur said.

Alfred smiled. "Oh! Uh, yeah, that sounds great! Are you sure I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Oh, just my painting session," Arthur replied casually. Sh*t. I shouldn't have said that. How do you casually tell someone you've been spending every waking hour laboring over a painting of their face?

"You paint?" Alfred smiled, his face lighting up. "That's so cool! I'm not the best artist, but man, that's awesome!"

"Oh, yeah," Arthur said. Come on, change the topic.

Before Arthur could do anything, Alfred kept talking. "What kind of paintings do you do?"

"Oh, just landscapes mostly," Arthur muttered. "This one's a portrait though. Anyway, what kind of tea do you want?"

"Oh, whatever, I'm not very picky," Alfred replied. Arthur could tell he still hadn't gotten Alfred's mind off the painting. Think of something, now.

"So, how's your trip been going? You said you were here for a… senior trip?"

"Late senior trip, yeah," Alfred replied. It's been pretty great, I've seen everything I wanted to."

"Have you loved everything you've seen so far?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah," Alfred said, staring directly into Arthur's eyes. "I've loved y- the stuff I've seen so far, it's been great."

Arthur blushed and turned back around to his kettle. He didn't mean it like that, stop thinking that way.

Luckily, Arthur didn't have to think about it for long. "Sorry, but can I use your bathroom?"Alfred asked.

"Of course," Arthur replied, glad that Alfred had changed the subject. "It's just down the hall."

"Thanks," the American responded, and walked briskly away.

Arthur was working so distractedly that he had burned his hand on the kettle twice. His nerves felt beyond shot. Alfred, who he had been dreaming about all this time, was in his home.

After a few minutes, Arthur began to worry. He sure has been gone for a while. I should make sure he's okay, Arthur thought. He walked down the hall to find the bathroom door ajar. Not only that, but the attic door was open as well.

Oh no, please don't say he went up there. Arthur hurried upstairs, and found Alfred standing still in the doorway, unmoving.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked nervously.

Alfred jumped. "Oh, yeah, sorry. I just smelled the paint and got curious, I'm so sorry." Alfred walked forward and little and stared and the ceiling and took a deep breath, which made Arthur cringe a little. The last thing he needed was for Alfred to inhale too many paint fumes.

"It's alright, I just got worried when you hadn't returned," Arthur muttered. Had he left the door open? He couldn't believe he could be this stupid.

"Sorry for worrying you. I just was amazed by this place. It's so cool. You paint here a lot?" Alfred asked.

"Almost all the time," Arthur admitted. This place was his sanctuary, his cloister from everything terrible in the world.

"Wow," Alfred breathed. He stood there amazed. Arthur breathed out a sigh of relief. Maybe he hasn't seen the painting yet, there's still time to go down and pretend this never happened.

Alfred words broke Arthur's thoughts. "But, uh, that portrait over there, is that… me?"

Oh no. He had seen it. What can I possibly tell him? That I love him? How utterly ludicrous, there's no way in hell I could tell a practical stranger that.

"Oh, that?" Arthur responded? "Well, that's just- well you see…"

"It's okay," Alfred interrupted, smiley warmly. "You don't have to explain. I love it."

"I'm sorry- wait, you do?"

"Yeah, your art is exceptional! I can't believe you made that. I mean, it looks just like me," Alfred continued.

Arthur couldn't believe it. He expected Alfred to be take this completely wrong, but instead, he was complimenting his work.

"Thank you," Arthur stuttered.

"You even got my jacket right!" Alfred beamed. "Man, I was sure you were amazing, but now I'm positive!"

Arthur was taken aback. "You thought I was amazing?"

"Well, yeah," Alfred said embarrassedly. "That's why I was staring. I mean, you looked so proper, and handsome too. I could barely believe it."

"You thought I was the handsome one?" Arthur laughed. Oh no, this is all coming out wrong, get control of yourself.

"Well, yeah, have you looked in the mirror lately?"

Arthur huffed. "Last time I checked, I have paint on my cheek and a bird's nest for hair."

"Yeah, you do," Alfred chuckled. "But it's cute."

Cute? Did he really just say that? Arthur shook his head. Everything about this felt so beautiful, it didn't even feel real.

"I.. I guess I made the painting for the same reason."

Alfred turned a shade of bright red. "What!? Stop messing with me."

"I'm not," Arthur said. He groaned inwardly. I can't believe I'm actually saying all of this.

The two stood there awkwardly, both refusing to look into the other's eyes. Suddenly, a high pitched squeal started ringing through their ears.

Alfred jumped and looked around. "What's that!?"

Arthur groaned. "Hell, the kettle. Quick, let's get downstairs." As they rushed towards the kitchen, Arthur cursed. Thanks for ruining the moment, oh valiant tea gods.