Sorry... Regents, thank you so much President Bush and the state of New York, and playoffs keeps me busy... I hope you enjoy and note that this is unbeta, so please bear with my mistakes - I am human. Enjoy~

Forest green eyes watched as her friend of old went on destructive rampage. First, the kitchen was obliterated, and then the common room, and lastly was the library. Each room came a mess that was not at all too beautiful; food decorated the walls like freshly laid paint, feathers danced within air like figure skaters as white cotton laced the floor like a snow globe, and pages floated down like snow and decorated the floor with aged pages to new. It took half of the house to stop Gilbert, well, slow him down from preventing further damage until Ivan came down, his scarf being the only piece of clothing wrapped around his body, and sat on the German; Prussian if you go by Gilbert. Elizabeta walked around the damaged rooms and took account of the new furniture that would need to be bought or professional cleaned. "Arthur is going to kill him."

"Da," smiled Ivan, "Will be fun to watch the Ghost man being dead for real now."

Red eyes glared sinfully, "Get . . . The. Fuck. Off. Me." warned Gilbert, "Now."

"Why I do that comrade?" the face innocence shining through Ivan's childlike features, "You are the one that cause mass of destruction, nyet?"

"Learn fucking English right or don't speak it at all!" roared Gilbert. "It's you are the one that caused the mass destruction, dumkoff!"

"Why I take my English lessons from you? You be making the fun of me and besides . . . If I be speaking my native language you'd be the calling me Communist or Commie, which I am neither."

"They're the same thing just one is the abbreviated term," sighed Gilbert. The albino closed his eyes to catch his breath and didn't realize the smile growing on Ivan's mouth because the Russian's plan to distract the German with his 'bad' English grammar was working; in truth Ivan knew English fairly well and only spoke in poor English grammar when he had to because in reality Ivan could be mistaken for an American if he wanted to. "Get off me."

"Nyet. Not until Arthur says so and we are be the sure that you are calm."

"You're going to be the pissing me off if you don't be getting the hell off me!" yelled Gilbert as he purposely mimicked Ivan's speech. "Now, get off."

A thought sailed through Ivan's mind as his smile remained that of a child's, "You be saying the magic word first and then I will be getting the off of you."

Red eyes twitched more in irritation by the passing millisecond as the heavier built Russian sat on him. "Get off!" roared Gilbert.

"Magic word, da."

"Dumkoff!" yelled Gilbert, "OFF!"

"Then the answer is nyet. I will not be getting the off you."

Teeth gritted in pain as the heavy weight of the Russian was starting to really get to Gilbert as he just laid there. "Tell me why I should say that damned magic word?"

"Because," stared Ivan, "Then I will be getting the off of you."

"Not that, dumkoff, I mean why should I besides getting off me."

"Well, you did destroy a good couple thousands of dollar, da."

The silver head shook in disbelief, "It's pounds, not dollars. We're in the United Kingdom, so fucking British pounds."

"There is difference?"

"Are you stupid?"

"Nyet."

"Then, yes, there is a difference. Pounds in the United Kingdom; dollars in the United States; Euros for most of Europe; Yen for Japan, must I continue or has your Communist brain gone into overdrive?" mocked Gilbert.

Ivan just kept his childlike smile plastered on his face and closed his eyes to bring about an eerily creepy face. "I am not Communist," Ivan thought briefly, "Isn't that right Nazi?"

Red eyes widen in utter shock. "H-HOW DARE YOU?!" Gilbert was in panic as he was called something he regretted; it was the second most thing he regretted in his life, the first being incapable to save his wife and child.

"Now you know how I feel when you call me Communist, Nazi."

"I am not a Nazi!" denied Gilbert.

Cool, uncaring violet eyes bored into wide red ones. "You are German, nyet?"

"I am Prussian," glared Gilbert, his silver head turning to the side to avoid eye contact.

"Then why do you not be looking at me in the eyes, Nazi."

A grimace appeared on Gilbert's pale features as he looked at Ivan's eyes, only his eyes. "For starters," smirked the Prussian as he kicked his knee up into Ivan's bare member, "You are naked like a newborn baby." The Russian twitched at the discomfort he was now suffering in his nether regions. "Second, you weigh a shit ton so get off." With a big heave the smaller man brought his legs up and wrapped them around Ivan's neck and pulled down with his legs. The Russian was not processing this course of action, but it happened. Ivan felt his body falling backwards and the he felt the crushing pressure and minimal pain from his body slamming on the floor. Gilbert got up and crushed his foot against Ivan's chest, "What you get rotten Communist bastard."

"Nazi," hissed Ivan in return

A simple shrug was forced from Gilbert's shoulders as he forced his mind to be calm. "I am what I am and that is total awesome-ness in the ultimate form." His tone sounded empty as he pulled his leg away and turned to leave. But Ivan had other ideas.

"You dirty Nazi," yelled Ivan as he stood to his full height, "I remember seeing you in uniform fighting for the Allied Powers all those years back: A dark uniform with the SS insignia on your lapel."

The Prussian stopped dead in his tracks. 'Maybe I was those things.' "I did what I had to do and what I was told to do."

"Vampires are not told what to do," barked Ivan, "We do what we want when we want. We are not dogs that obey."

"True, but . . ." faltered Gilbert as his eyes dimmed at the memories.

"But?"

Eyes blinked over the red irises, "Nothing . . . I am sorry." Pale hands dung into the pockets of jean pants as the albino forced himself to move. "I'll receive punishment later." The albino quickly walked outside and covered his eyes from the miniscule amounts of sunlight rays that managed to rain down that day. "Damn light . . ." The albino kicked a stone out of his way as he walked done one of many shaded paths surrounding the manor. He continued his walk until he grew tired and slumped against an aged maple tree. "Funny," smiled Gilbert absentmindedly, "I remember you when you were a sapling and now look at you, you are huge in stature." A sigh escaped Gilbert's lips as he thought about the other things engulfing his sane life. A pair of violet blue eyes that reminded him of his beloved Mattea appeared in his mind, "I still want to know . . . Who you were, oh stranger that watched my memory."

"You know," came a British voice, "Sulking about the mysteries of life is bad for your health."

Red eyes looked up at emeralds and a smirk appeared on the albino's pale lips. "If only health was a probable for our kind." Gilbert watched the lithe Brit give a chuckle at the remark. "So, I take it you are here to punish me?"

Emeralds bore into rubies, "Maybe I have and maybe I have not come for that purpose. What set you off?" Gilbert looked at the ground beneath the Brit's feet. "Gilbert I know you and you have not changed very much since I first met you, all those long years ago. It takes something offensive about your former mate or something about your brother or your human life to make you snap. So, please inform me of what happened." The lithe vampire knelt on his feet in front of his friend and waited for an answer.

It took a few long moments for Gilbert to rethink about what had happened before his vision was covered in red and the next thing he remembered was the Russian sitting on him. "Ich erhielt ein Paket ," (I received a package) started the albino, "Das Paket wurde schön verpackt, aber wenn ich in die Wickel zerriss der widerliche Geruch reiste ich von der Öffnung geschaffen und ein kleineres Paket versteckt im Inneren; wurde es übel riechenden, Recking des Todes und der Verpackung wurde ein widerlich Braunton gefärbt. Die Farbe war ein brauner Ich habe viele Male über meinem langen Leben gesehen: getrocknete Blut. Darin befand sich ein Finger, abgeschnitten von seinen Besitzer." (The package was wrapped up nicely, but when I tore into the wrapping the sickening scent traveled from the opening I created and a smaller package was tucked inside; it was foul smelling, reeking of death and the package was dyed a sickening shade of brown. The color was a brown I have seen many times over my long life: dried blood. Inside was an ear, cut off from it's owner )Gilbert stared at the sky, lost in thought as he tried to think of his reason for practically going insane. "I-ich weiß nicht, warum ich es verloren, Arthur. Ich habe gerade." (I-I don't know why I lost it, Arthur. I just did.)

"Es ist in Ordnung, Gilbert. Wir alle Snap, etwas früher als andere," spoke Arthur in mangled sounding, yet formal German. (It's alright, Gilbert. We all snap, some sooner than others.) This earned a smirk from the albino. "But, back to English," smirked Arthur, "Have you thought that maybe you reacted because you "knew" the owner of that decaying finger?"

"The blood did not smell like someone I know, but it reminded of a sweet floral scent that belonged to mein wife all those . . . years . . . . . . . ago . . . . . . ." faltered Gilbert as his mind started to stretch back to that night.

Placing a hand on Gilbert's sunken shoulder Arthur gave a reassuring smile, "Stiff up a lip, you did what you could." Emerald looked into rubies in a sincere motion and a delicate smile curved it's way on porcelain lips. "Have you thought about reincarnation?"

"I thought you needed magic to do that humble jumbled devil art," retorted Gilbert.

"It is not!" defended Arthur, "And it is magick, Prussian dolt." The albino smiled at the recognition he got at his true nationality. Arthur coughed to clear his throat and looked at the ground. "Reincarnation happens naturally, though it takes time – millennia even." The smile on the Brit's face grew sullen a bit. Emeralds were darkening at the current thought running through his aged brain. "Magick helps to speed up the process of reincarnation and it's incredibly difficult to perform, as well as consuming. With magick in the mix the person being reborn will be physically the same and-"

"Quit talking about the good and actually say the bad like I know you will," a smirked appeared on the albino's face, "I know you Arthur; after meeting you about three hundred years ago to, now, living within close proximity for the last hundred and fifty years or so."

A mirror smirk appeared on the Brit's face. "Yes, I'm afraid that's true. So old we are . . . . To think you used to be an arse and was tamed by a single "mare" in a mere few centuries."

"Now," started Gilbert bringing the seriousness back to the conversation, "What is the bad I know that you are building up towards?"

"The person reincarnated by magick will slowly loss themselves and will only increase when they remember. Vampirism or transforming that person into another supernatural being stops the deterioration and saves them from an unfortunate demise." The remorse was peeking through Arthur's, normally, calm expression. "And the more you use magick to reincarnate someone the quicker that he or she will lose his or her sanity."

"Did you use magick on Mattea?"

Large, caterpillar eyebrows furrowed a bit and the Brit actually stumbled, "W-we-well . . . Ummmmm . . . Y-you s-see . . .F-fun-ny story . . . M-maybe . . ."

"Wh-"

"To get you out of your depressive slump, in which you became when she passed away and the child stolen."

Red eyes glinted with a small flare of anger. "It's mein child; not "the child" as you so delicately put it.

Emeralds took on an ashamed scene: widening at the realization and closing within seconds of it realizing that Gilbert's words were true. Lips opened and closed a few times before words were poured out. "I am so, so terribly sorry . . . I was thinking of my own a tad . . . While I was speaking about your child." The pale lids of Arthur's eyes refused to open; to look at Gilbert. Within seconds the Brit stood tall and excused himself to weep to himself in privacy.

Gilbert watched the Brit leave down a desolate path that he knew led to Arthur's private house, located on the other side of the hill. Rubies closed on themselves as the Prussian thought about his former family. "It's . . . Okay . . ." drifted Gilbert, letting his thoughts take over.

'Mattie . . . Would you forgive me? For letting you die? For letting our one and only child be stolen away by them – those damned hunters? I failed you . . . I failed our daughter . . . I failed us. Our most precious and revered love . . . Failed.' Eyes continued to watch the blonde walk further and further away; becoming smaller with each step taken away and towards his private home. 'Right . . . Arthur was supposed to have a chi – no – children, twice the famous vampire had lost his lover and twice he had lost a child.'

"You are so stoic . . . With your head held high, never showing what you are truly feeling. That you never allow yourself to mourn properly." Gilbert gazed more down the path and couldn't see the Brit any longer, "That will be your demise; your love for Alfred." The Prussian pulled himself to his feet and he pushed himself to walk slowly back to the mansion. Large double doors stared at the albino as he walked towards the house and pushed himself through them. The inside rooms were still a mess from his earlier rage. Sighing quietly to himself Gilbert went into the kitchen and pulled out a bucket and sponge, broom and dustpan from the utility closet. His pale brows furrowed when he witnessed Feliciano creating human food. "What are you doing, silly Italian?"

Barely opened eyes looked towards Gilbert's direction, which the albino didn't even know if the Italian was actually looking at him. "Ve! Ve!" exclaimed the wimpier Italian. Rubies rolled in their sockets as the albino listened to Feliciano's normal exclaimed vocabulary. "I'm making pasta Alfredo!" Feliciano whined in his abnormally high bitched voice.

"W-what?!" Gilbert shouted, eyes widening. "Y-You are cooking Alfred! ARTHUR WILL KILL YOU!"

Head tilting in wonder, "Ve? I'm making a pasta, like Arthur asked me to a for Alfred."

"O-oh," stuttered Gilbert as he realized his own mistake, "Carry on then." Quickly, Gilbert collected his cleaning supplies and moved to clean his mess. As he cleaned the feathers he wondered about the letter and the package contents. "Mattie. Mattie. Mattie. Mattie," repeated Gilbert subconsciously as he cleaned.

Arthur walked the long and green laden path; trees lined the dirt trail and grass was tall surrounding it. The plant life seemed to flourish because everything was an abundant green, but not an animal was seen – not even the low hum of an insect flying around. With a little sigh, Arthur just looked around; he knew why there weren't animals surrounding the estate or the grounds he owned – besides the human population increasing, the small population of vampires he allowed within his domain had either scared the creatures away or had been killed for their blood. It was about these times that Arthur missed the, former, "New World" and it's million wonders that were burdened in abundance of natural goods.

The sun sunk below the small former mountains, now hills – weathered away by the nature's rainfall. The cool shades of earlier nightfall showered down and the rising moon gave Arthur's porcelain skin an unnatural glow that gave made him irresistibly beautiful. He seemed god-like with his looks, highlighted to be unnaturally beautiful, and his aristocratic manner, endowed to him with time and knowledge absorbed. Arthur walked towards the peeking cottage, head held high, and movements made with seemed perfection. The cottage appeared more and more as the old vampire got closer and the trees "moving" with the distant between the vampire and the cottage making a close. Trickling water rushing over stones was rippling in the distance; stones being weathered due to erosion as the rocks slowly move downward with time were silently being eaten away.

Aged stone was seen, contrasting from the growing darkness, due to the moon glowing faintly behind a clouded sky. The roof was darker, almost matching the increasing darkness. Arthur's pale hand reached and turned the door knob from the early 1500s – the brass knob creaking a bit in a thirsting wail for oil – and walked through the old passageway. The inside contrasted so differently from the outside because each room fell in line to each different era of history. His upstairs portion of the cottage was modernized to the 21st century. His bedroom was the most modernized, having the newest of anything – his bed was comprised a dream cloud mattress, the softest sheets one could think of, a flat screen television attached to the wall, with DVDs, and a dish box. A lone laptop sat on the corner of the bed, connected to it's charger.

However, Arthur was located in the kitchen of his private cottage. His head was poking through the fridge and a hand snaked out and grabbed a bag filled with sanguine liquid. A clear tube poked from the top and that is where Arthur placed his lips and inhaled – his cheeks caved in as he mouth began to collect the red liquid. When his mouth was full the vampire heard himself make a chilling gulp as the liquid flowed naturally down his throat. The liquid wasn't as fulfilling as Alfred's, his honest and faithful other-half. It tasted dead, like a rotting victim from the battleground. "Alfred . . ." sighed Arthur, "Will you see me as the man you fell in love the first and second time?" Emeralds gazed at the old photograph from the American Civil War Era hanging against the pale blue of the wall. His Alfred's second first reincarnated body, yet a mirror image of his lover from the first time they met – so long ago on that cold winter night. "Or will you see me as the monster that you must hate and fear?" Arthur's eyes remaining pinned on the Civil War photo, still frozen eyes staring back at the emeralds as tears began to sprout. "I am a greedy monster . . . To have used magick to reincarnate not once, but twice. Twice I have risen you from the grave faster than you should have and twice you have fallen by the hands of that bloody frog – shall this be your third or can I be there to stop you own downfall to insanity and put an end to that frog's life?" Arthur pulled himself to the photograph and traced his cool, pale fingers against the aged material. That smile never changing, his lover's eyes never changing, the color of golden wheat never changing, his child-like wonder and curiosity never changing, but what about his mental state? Or his lover's opinion of a lover – man or women? These very thoughts and curves of each life made Arthur fear because his unbeating heart ached at the thought of his Alfred abandoning him.

Every time it hurt to be departed from his golden lover. To explain the pain would be describing one's personally designed hell. Each time Alfred was mercilessly murdered that hell would grow in size – think of the hell as the Minotaur's labyrinth . . . Wide . . . And filled with bloodshed and horror. Over a millennia's worth of bloodshed, pain, and suffering was what Arthur Kirkland's life consisted of, yet his only regret – well regrets- were losing Alfred and their children. His only light to the world that he had come to hate with time - color seeming to blend together to form a sheet of gray – would come to him for a short while, bringing happiness, but leave due to pure tragedy for what? For the purpose of an unrequited love? No, a one-sided love due to appearance; it disgusted Arthur that he was nothing more than a replacement for something that was long lost.

"Damn the times . . . Changing into something new so quickly and yet we stay the same, never changing – frozen in time," sighed Arthur as he realized he had moved on himself. He was now in his study with a second laptop hooked to machines, upon machines, and a private stash of books lining the wall. Realizing why he must have come here subconsciously the vampire shook his head and went to the bookcase. His emerald eyes scanning each title and surface showing; all the books were aged and showed it through discoloration and the difference in extravagance per book coverings. Eyeing the one he wanted his strong, long hand rose to the books position, while long pale fingers snaked out and grasped it, pulling it out. "His old journal . . . From the early 1600s . . . H-he needs to know," clarified Arthur to himself as he went to his room and set the book down on his bed. Once the book hit the spongy material of the bed the old vampire immediately turned and ripped his closet doors open and commenced digging. "I know I tucked it in here, I know I did," muttered the vampire to himself as he continued to dig deeper and deeper. Clothes were thrown on either side of Arthur as he dug. When he reached a box he pulled it out and turned for his bed and tripped on the mass of clothing he ripped out. "BLOODY HELL!" yelled Arthur after he landed face first onto the box he was carrying. A few short bouts later and he pulled himself up and placed the box by the old journal. "This is it."

Pale fingers opened the ancient box and found the slightly browned material that was once a pearly white. It had the initials A.F.J embroidered in sky blue threading on one of the corners with the opposite corner having A.K in a rich green threading. Arthur smiled to himself, but the old handkerchief was not what he desired, no, he wanted what was packed away delicately inside. The vampire snatched the handkerchief up and felt the square bump that was wrapped inside it. "Yes, this is it," whispered Arthur to himself as he unwrapped the box from it's prison. His hand covered by the browned fabric and the velvet black box rested gently in the center of his palm. The vampire's other hand shakily grasped the lid of velvet material and opened it – an ageless silver shine glimmered greedily as light for the first time in ages hit it's surface. It was like starlight captured by a single ring, with gems of sapphires and emeralds embedded deeply into the silver band. "Alfred . . ." murmured Arthur as he spied the engraving inside the band: 'You captured my heart forever.'

Cool tears ran down Arthur's face as the memory was starting to resurface about the ring. It was a promise of an eternal love that would always be untouched by time.

"A-Arthur?" asked Alfred as he blinked the leftover pain away.

A sly smile made it's way on Arthur's lips. "I'm right here love." Pale fingers stroked Alfred's waning tanned cheeks. "You did wonderful. I am so proud of you my love."

A whined moaned erupted from Alfred's lips as he forced his eyes shut. "The light . . . It hurts . . ."

Laughter ripped through Arthur's being as he rubbed Alfred's head. "I know love . . . You'll adjust to the lifestyle. I owe you so much . . . So . . . So much for this."

"Don't own shit . . . I love you and you . . . You . . ." repeated Alfred as his head spun, "done the same . . ." Another groan erupted as Alfred arched at more pain rippling through his changing body. "D-damn . . . Why does it hurt so much?"

"It hurts because you are changing from a human to a vampire," re-explained Arthur. "Every molecule in your being that was human is being altered by my blood in your body that you consumed earlier."

"Then why did you d-dr . . ." Alfred arched again and winced. "AHhhhhhh!" Arthur stoked Alfred's cheek lovingly and softly, while whispering small bouts to calm Alfred in any way he could.

"Because your human cells needed to be weakened so that they would not try to expel or destroy mine in order for you to become what I am efficiently." Lids opened and closed rapidly over bright blue eyes. Breathes were taken rapidly and in shorts bouts. "Alfred . . . Alfred love . . . I love you alright . . . Sleep now . . .Just try to sleep." Arthur could hear Alfred's heart beating faster and faster against his lover's ribcage. Tanned lids closed against sky blue eyes and breathing increased more, sending the human in transition's heart into a beating frenzy. Arthur placed his hand over Alfred's heart and listened to it beat.

'Thumpthumpthumpthump . . . Thumpthumpthumpthump . . . Thumpthumpthumpthump . . .' the heart beat so fast and Arthur frowned when he felt it slow. 'Thumpthumpthump . . . Thumpthumpthump . . . Thumpthumpthump. . . .' The beat continued for a few more minutes and Arthur watched Alfred's face for any signs of pain. There was none as Alfred had slipped into the black depths of unconsciousness; pain taking over his lover's senses until he surrendered the change. Thick eyebrows furrowed as he felt Alfred's heart rate dropped again, 'Thumpthump . . . Thumpthump . . . Thumpthump . . .' The vampire smiled to himself as he recognized this beat, it was like when Alfred was walking around and smiling at him from a distance – this made Arthur so deeply wish he could have had a heartbeat just so he could feel it's movements grow frantic as a blush would grow on his pale face. 'Thump . .. Thump . . .Thump . . . Thump . . .' Alfred's heart slowed to the rate at which it would be when he was sleeping; Arthur laid his head over Alfred's faintly rising chest, the strength per beat was weakening more. 'thump . . . thump . . . thu-' then it stopped. The heartbeat that Arthur used to love and associated with Alfred being near was gone. "Alfred – poppet, my love . . ." Arthur reached up and kissed Alfred against his lips and rested his forehead against the still man's face, "We're together now . . . Forever . . . "

The older vampire waited and waited. This excursion started when the breaks of twilight came about and it was now nearing the time of the rising sun. The warmth could be felt as the sun was approaching, but was hidden behind the tall hill that was overrun with trees of great height. Giving Alfred's still body another kiss against his forehead Arthur stood to his full height, which wasn't much compared to Alfred's height, and went to the window. His emeralds eyes stared through the dirty glass and hissed silently as the sun rose more. "My only regret . . . Taking you away from Alfred," hissed Arthur as he pulled the curtain's over the glass. Turning on his heels Arthur retreated to the other window and drew the curtains. The vampire did this throughout the cabin house in order to protect Alfred from their only enemy, well at least until Alfred grew in age – then the sun would only be small enemy as his body would readjust to the light and tolerate short bouts. This made Arthur desire to return to England because due to the almost constant cloudy weather it was possible for vampires to always walk during the daylight hours. A smile appeared on Arthur's face. "Yes . . . I'll show you around the world and all it's wonders and we'll discover many things together . . . I love you Alfred . . ." smiled Arthur as he flew, literally, up to Alfred's upstairs room and reproached his lover's still form.

The tanned body was where it was left and no signs of love were present as Arthur sat on the bed and laid down by his lover. Emeralds bore at the man's face – flawless. It was perfectly symmetrical and always radiated happiness and love. "Alfred, my love . . ." whispered Arthur as he wrapped an arm around Alfred's middle and stayed close, a yawn escaping his lips as the sun continued to crawl into the sky blue skies. As Arthur laid there he felt the circular object in his pocket press against his thigh, which caused a smile to appear on Alfred's face. "I'll ask you . . " spoke Arthur until he was interrupted by a yawn, "When you wake up . . ." Pale lids closed over emeralds as sleep overtook Arthur's senses – his vampiric nature pressing him to do so.

The two slept together and were so still that they both appeared dead. No movement occurred until later that evening and it was Arthur that rose first. "Alfred?" questioned Arthur sleepily. His hand fisted and rubbing away the sleep from his eyes. "Alfred – love?" asked Arthur again. Emeralds looking at the still body and a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he grew impatient – he wanted to be with his lover that instant. He pulled himself into a sitting position and held Alfred's cold hand. A pained wince appeared on Arthur's feature because this was unnatural for his Alfred to be so cold, granted the soon-to-be vampire had not had blood to warm his body. Arthur waited . . . And waited . . . He waited for hours and just hoped that all was well. Emeralds grew concerned and impatient as time ticked by. It wasn't until the sun was going to rise again – Arthur feeling it within his guts that it was going to rise soon – that Alfred's hand twitched in Arthurs. Excited ballooned in Arthur's eyes, "Alfred?"

"Mhmmmm . . ." moaned Alfred as sleep was slowly waning from him.

"Alfred, my love, "coaxed Arthur, "Wake up, poppet . . ." Still tanned lids opened to reveal purple red irises. Arthur kissed Alfred gently on his forehead. "Love?" questioned Arthur again. A yawn escaped Alfred's lips as lip was wearing off; as lips pealed back elongated pearly fangs became visible. The sight was daunting and not right to see on Alfred's form, but it was what was going to be for years to come.

"A-Arthur?" croaked Alfred, his voice hoarse.

"I'm here," reassured Arthur, "How do you feel?"

Alfred was quiet for a few minutes, causing Arthur to become further impatient. "Hungry . . . N-no . . . Th-thirsty . . ." stuttered Alfred as he throat was parched.

"I know, I know," said Arthur as he kissed Alfred again, "But it's almost dawn and dangerous for you, right now, to go outside. You'll have to settle for my blood." Predatory eyes stared at Arthur's pale throat, the deep redness that were Alfred's pupils radiated with a strong crimson shine and grew weaker the farther away from the center. "Go ahead poppet," smiled Arthur as he noticed the hesitation. Strong fingers gripped Arthur's biceps and the cool body moved closer until his lips were skimming the pale throat. In response to the movement, Arthur tilted his head to side and waited. Alfred's pale tongue slowly came out as it licked at the spot that Alfred was planning to dig into. A few more seconds passed and with a kiss, Alfred brought down his newly formed fangs into Arthur throat, a small whimper escaping Arthur's lips. The newborn was sucked with desperation at the liquid that was escaping the wound his fangs had just made. The older vampire moaned as the pain departed and pleasure radiating from the wound throughout his whole body. "Al-Alfred!" cried Arthur in pure ecstasy. Alfred sucked happily at the blood and smiled against the wound kept sucking happily. This continued for minutes – though it seemed an eternity. The bond between the two growing with each gulp Alfred swallowed until, all of sudden, Alfred just let go and moaned appreciative. "A-alfred?" asked Arthur, drool sliding down to his chin at this point.

"T-thank you . . . Arthur . . ." Alfred whispered as he licked his lips happily.

The older blonde hugged Alfred and smiled. "I'm glad you're with me . . . I do have a question . . . For you . . ." Alfred stared at Arthur in question with his sky blue eyes, which kept their warm feeling to them. A smile escaped Arthur's lips as he pulled away from Alfred and dug in his pant for the band in his pocket. When he pulled it out from his pocket he crawled out of the bed and got on the floor on one knee. "Alfred F. Jones . . . Will you please do me the honor . . . By becoming my husband . . . My mate . . ."spoke Arthur in segments due to embarrassment and pleasure from the bite rushing through his veins. Alfred just stared at the band in Arthur's pale fingers. A blush crept on Arthur's face, "I . . . Ah . . .Would understand if you wouldn't want to."

A cough resonated throughout the room as Alfred cleared his throat. "I gave you my mortality to be with you . . . Why would I desire to be your other half, you husband– mate as you put it."

Emeralds widened, "Y-you mean it? Even with the unethical views of homose-"Arthur was silenced by Alfred smashing his lips against the older vampires.

"Yes means yes," moaned Alfred though his lips as he kissed Arthur deeply, passionately. Arthur slipped the ring on Alfred's left ring finger and smiled at it.

"I will love you forever."

A grin appeared on Alfred's face, "I'd hope so, seeing you're stuck with me."

"A decision that I will never regr-" A snore echoed through the nearly empty room and Arthur looked at Alfred, who had sank on the bed and was sleeping happily. "You've sleep for nearly two days . . . Oh well," mutter Arthur under his breath. His arm pulling the covers up and covering himself and Alfred as he situated himself by his lover's body and ended with him wrapping his arm around Alfred's middle. "But you have your instincts working against you . . ." A yawn escaped Arthur's lips and he guessed the sun had risen above the hill by now.

As Arthur curled against Alfred's body he noticed the warmth from the newborn and that his hand was stroking Alfred's stomach lovingly. "Maybe . . ." breathed Arthur as he closed his eyes, "Just maybe . . . We may have a . . . Miracle happen for us . . ."

Alfred laid in his bed and looked out the window, while his hand rubbed his aching head. His eyes clouded over and not truly seeing what was in front of him as he spoke quietly,"Arthur . . . Arthur Kirkland . . . My . . . Husband . . . My . . . Lover . . ."

Little did Alfred know that he was remembering his past life and that a certain Italian was nearing jumping for joy outside of his door because the small Italian knew what Alfred was to Arthur. He was so happy until he spilled the pasta on the floor and cried, running to his room and cried into his lover's arms. "It . . . Was . . . A . . . Waste of such a . . . Beautiful . . . A PASTA!" screamed Feliciano into his lover's broad shoulder.

Strong fingers ran through the brown hair, avoiding the curl. "It's just food," grunted a thick accented voice. "Just food, Feli . . ." His hand continued stroking through the hair and when the crying did not cease after an hour the German gave up and decided to change the course of the evening. The fingers that were once gently running through the Italian's hair and avoiding the curl were now deliberately pulling on that single curl. A moan pierced through the air and nearly shut eyes glanced up at light steel blue eyes. Feliciano's arms moved up and wrapped around his lover's strong and muscular neck.

"Luddy!" cried Feliciano before he kissed him hard, a moan escaping his German lover's throat. Pale, strong hands ran against the Italian's sides. Steel blue eyes looked at barely opened eyes of his lover, yet he saw the lightly tanned lids open more than normal and saw the erotic gaze in the caramel eyes. Feliciano pulled away and had a strong blush covering his barely tanned cheeks. "Ludwig . . ." breathed the Italian, "I want you!"

The night was young and it was already declared an evening of passion by one single pull on a piece of hair.

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