My Save Year: ch. 4

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12554533/1/My-Save-Year

Summary: Depressed and rejected by his family, Arthur longs for a new beginning during his first year of university. There he meets Alfred, an optimistic bright-eyed oaf with a sunny smile. An unlikely romance develops between them, one that was already doomed from the beginning. (USUK, multichapter)

Mid-October…

Prof. Braginski dismissed us from the lecture fifteen
minutes earlier than usual. The new location of the lecture was desolate, much
farther from the other buildings on campus. This was already the third switch up
of classrooms; the class was nearly down to half its size. Most students dropped out
because of the course’s inconsistency, choosing to take the online version
instead.

Francis, Antonio, Lovino, Gilbert, and myself, on the
other hand, stubbornly stuck it through with the original course. We were very
much visual learners and had to see the material presented to us in order to
truly engage with it.

Although, it was hard to listen to Prof. Braginski
without feeling sorry for him. The man looked like he hadn’t caught a wink of
sleep judging by the dark bags under his eyes. Everyone in the University
stayed far away from him because of the paranormal rumours attached to his
reputation.

Hell, we’d all experienced the random bangs and moans of
ghosts haunting the classrooms he taught at. Although, only Francis and I could
hear the latter. Still, it was hard for anyone to dispute that there was some sort of paranormal activity going on.

So far, this third location proved to be the quietest in
terms of hauntings. The lights flickered, but that’s about it. We were located
in a dingy basement of a church, using desks that were hardly big enough to
place a laptop on. It was crowded and humid despite the cool fall weather
outside.

Just as I was about to leave with Francis – we managed to
tolerate each other now, and could even be considered just a tad bit more than
acquaintances – Prof. Braginski asked me to stay back.

I complied and met the professor at the front podium.

Prof. Braginski gathered his papers before neatly placing
them in his briefcase. “Ah, Mr. Kirkland, I’ve been meaning to speak to you for
a while now,” he said apologetically, snow-white hair shining under the
artificial fluorescent lights.

“I’m sure you’re aware that you’ve received the highest mark
in the class for the first assignment, da?”

I nodded my head. My cheeks warmed. I was unsure of
myself and quite frankly didn’t know how to react to praise. “Yes, sir, you
sent me an email to inform me of this last week.”

Prof. Braginski straightened, readjusting his scarf in
preparation for baring against the cold weather. “That long ago, huh?” he
chuckled. “My apologies. If it’s any consolation, I have been quite busy lately
with booking new classroom locations, as well as re-grading assignments. Many
people in the class weren’t pleased with the results they received. Most of the
time, these are the students who don’t attend any of my lectures.”

I nodded awkwardly, still unsure of what to say. The
Russian was very intimidating up-close. He looked like he was capable of
cracking a spoon with his thumb alone.

“Anyways, I just wanted to congratulate you,” Prof.
Braginski continued. His violet eyes shined with kindness. “I know what’s its
like to be an emerging writer. It’s tough, because you never truly know if
you’re good enough. You’re always criticizing your writing, unable to see the
talent laying right out before you like a shining beacon. Doubt is blinding
like that.

“I try to tell students not to think that way when they
get better. Just because you improve doesn’t mean that you were horrible
before… I expect a lot of things from you, Mr. Kirkland. It was an immense
pleasure reading your work. You just have such a way of getting down to the
gritty details of how a character feels. It was almost paralyzing to read, and
yet, I couldn’t unglue my eyes from the paper.”

“T-thank you, sir,” I stammered robotically. “This means
a lot to me. Really, it does.”

“Anytime,” Prof. Braginski smiled. “All it takes is a bit
of encouragement. We writers, we’re always so insecure about ourselves.
Sometimes all it takes is a little push from someone who knows exactly what
you’re going through.”

“I know what you mean,” I replied, wide-eyed. Briefly, my
thoughts traced back to Alfred before focusing on Prof. Braginski’s slightly
hooked nose. I was too shy to establish direct eye contact with him.

“So, have you started on the second prompt yet? I’m sure
that you have. The deadline is fast approaching. What is it? Two weeks until
it’s due?”

Our second prompt was to write a historical fiction
piece. The time or genre didn’t matter so long as it was before 1960. We could
depict anything we wanted to.

“Yes, sir,” I answered politely. “I’ve begun research in
the library, and intend to continue it right now, actually. This was my last
class of the day.”

“Oh, well, I won’t keep you for much longer then,” Prof.
Braginski pursed his lips in approval. “Now, keep in mind this offer may not
stand if I decide to leave next semester, but if I do decide to stay, I’m
always looking for an assistant. This position would build you a lot of credit,
and I’d be happy to invite you to a writer’s residency program afterwards. I
see lots of potential in you, and I would hate for it to go unrecognized.”

“I…I don’t know what to say other than thank you,” I
said, mouth gaped open like a bloody idiot. “I don’t know what I did to
deserve–”

“Nyet! None of that,” Prof. Braginski interrupted, kindly.
“You deserve every opportunity this world has to offer. I only offer this to students who I believe have a future in
writing. Don’t question it, but rather accept your talent for what it is and
hone in on it; tweak it; perfect it; and then, share it to the world, touch and
reach the hearts of others, and maybe then, you’ll achieve the happiness you’ve
long sought after.”

There was a knowing look in Prof. Braginski’s eyes as he
clapped a hand over my shoulder. “When I was your age, I was stunted by a fear
of rejection. It brought me many pains, and…” he paused. I could almost swear that
tears were swimming in his old, wise gaze.

“…some ‘experiences’ I would rather not talk about. The
point is, Mr. Kirkland, is to never let doubt plague you from achieving what
you want. Don’t think, act. Now go, you have another marvelous one-shot to
write for me. I very much look forward to reading it once it’s complete.”

Stunned, I stumbled forward. I had completely blanked out
and forgotten what I had said to Prof. Braginski as I left the lecture room.

I was finally able to breathe again once I made it into
the library.

The relief didn’t last long as I had to duck and creep
past the study tables on the first floor. Matthew was holding his weekly Friday
Homework club session, and since Francis was a stalker, he had long decided to
attend them.

All right, to be fair, Gilbert first went to the
meetings, and since Gilbert went, Antonio and Francis went too. Lovino was also
forced to attend because of Antonio.

What was important was that Francis mainly came to these
meetings because he wanted to check up on me. I avoided him because I didn’t
want him to find out what I was doing here, other than working. I’d solve the case
of the rooftop without his help, thank you very much.

It was hard enough
coming up with excuses of why I couldn’t attend the meetings as all five of us
walked over to the library together after
class. Apparently, studying alone was beginning to lose its potency as an
effective justification for not joining them.

Francis turned and eyed the bookcase I was using to hide/
walk behind. He was waiting for me to walk into the library, likely planning to
use another guilt-trip tactic. Just because I tolerated him now didn’t mean that
I wanted to spend every waking minute with him. Living together was more than
enough.

Sapphire eyes narrowed before shifting their gaze to
Matthew, who had cleared his throat several times to garner the Frenchman’s
attention.

“Francis, focus on your work!” Matthew timidly scolded.
He had about as much assertiveness as an endangered baby panda.

“Ah…oui,” Francis bashfully rubbed the back of his neck.

“Kesesese! Oh look, you made the little birdie angry,”
Gilbert cackled.

“Gilbert, what did I say about you calling me that?”
Matthew deadpanned.

“I’ll keep calling you as such until you finally agree to
go out on a date with me,” Gilbert countered, a definite smirk on his face
judging by the tone he used. “They don’t call me five meters for nothing…”

Lovino yawned and picked up his mobile. “Hi, yes,
operator? I’d like to report a case of unnecessary sexual harassment.”

Antonio snickered. Lovino’s comment was unnecessary. Shy
as he was, Matthew was more than capable of looking after himself.

“I’m starting to think that they call you five meters
because of all the restraining orders people have filed against you,” Matthew
huffed.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Smirking, I left for the rickety metal staircase leading
up to the third floor. I couldn’t use the elevator, since it was in plain sight
of the study group. God forbid that I had more than one social interaction
today.

I wanted to look at the records’ section again. I was
contemplating doing a piece about someone who had lived here in the past.
Obviously, I would adjust the storyline and names and keep it tasteful, but I
think it would be interesting if I wrote about what it was like to have
attended this university many years ago. The spirits here that I’ve met already
only attested to how rich and dark the school’s history was.

But, before I got to that, I had a certain yank to greet.
Alfred waited for me at 4PM on weekdays where we met and chatted on the
library’s rooftop. On the weekends, we had also grown accustomed to studying at
the ‘food’ table in the fiction section together. As you can probably guess, I
had yet to come up with any leads about the food snatching.

Not yet anyway.

The moment I stepped foot onto the rooftop, Alfred
exploded. He was even more jittery than usual. “Dude, where were you? You’re
late! I…I was beginning to worry,” he trailed off, solemnly reseating himself
as I sat next to him on a bench. He was perfectly comfortable with me sitting
next to him now.

“Sorry, one of my professors asked me to stay back,” I
apologized for reasons inexplicable. When Alfred pouted like that I immediately
felt sorry regardless if his sadness was irrational or not.

“He wanted to congratulate me for doing well on my first
assignment. You know, the one I sent in last month?” I explained.

Alfred angrily scribbled in his notebook. “Yeah, yeah,
you told me,” he muttered. “Good for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “What’s wrong now?”

Alfred ignored me. His cheeks weren’t just pink from the
cold.

“Alfred, don’t be a twat. Tell me.”

“I thought you got tired of me and weren’t going to come
again!” Alfred blurted out. “Sorry! I know I’m being irrational!” he chuckled.
“Anxiety man, it really likes to mess with your brain, huh?”

“You’re correct. You are being irrational. We’ve been
friends for how long now? Six weeks? Seven? I’m not just going to abandon you,
Alfred. I couldn’t stand it if I did. Loud and crude as you may be, I truly
enjoy talking to you. Just like you keep encouraging me to believe in myself,
I’ll do the same for you. I like
being your friend.”

“Say that. Say it again.”

“Why?” I smirked.

“Please?”

“I like being your friend, Alfred,” I huffed, crossing
both my arms and ankles. Great, how was I going to tell him that I had to leave
to do research?

Alfred broke out into a grin. “Thanks, buddy. I really
needed that.”

I shrugged. “Anytime. Honestly, you can be so weird
sometimes.”

Alfred ignored me again and began jotting down more ideas
in his notebook. I had to look away when his tongue poked out of the corner of
his mouth.

“So,” I let out a deep breath. Cold air clouded around my
face. “How’s class going for you? Are you working on another assignment?”

“Nope, just brainstorming ideas for my War AU,” Alfred
chirped. “I can do that literary bullshit essay late at night like I usually
do. Class is good, boring, but good. You?”

I deadpanned. Classic Alfred. If something didn’t peak
his interest, he would torture himself and leave an assignment until the very
last minute. What infuriated me was that he got higher marks than students who
had started weeks before him. He was naturally talented. If only he put more
effort into his studies…

Alfred was bright, but not keen.

I faltered. I didn’t want to leave Alfred just yet.
Watching him work and brainstorm was a guilty pleasure of mine. He wore his
emotions on his face. My heart fluttered every time his eyebrows would furrow, lips
pursed in thought, cerulean eyes sparking with determination. I’ll repeat
myself again: he was beautiful, stunning,
gorgeous, but I couldn’t have him.

“Hey,” I started. “I’m supposed to write a historical
piece for my next one-shot. Would you… mind if I took a look at your ideas? I
could really use the inspiration.”

Alfred’s head shot up, blond cowlick bouncing. His
expression was more surprised than anything else, but he didn’t look opposed to
it. “Sure, man. Suit yourself. Not that any of this is good.”

He handed the bounded notebook to me. I intended to
cradle it gently, as it was very valuable to him, but ended up gasping as the
notebook landed sharply on my lap – it was a lot heavier than I had expected.

“Jesus Roosevelt Christ!” I cussed. “How much does this
thing weigh?”

Alfred blushed, placing a gloved fist over his mouth. “I
don’t know…this is years of ideas and ink you’re looking at.”

“Clearly,” I said as I flipped through the notebook.
Several extra notebooks and papers had been clipped into the binding, which
explained the extra weight. Still, it was unimaginable how much this thing
weighed. I could barely hold it up without feeling like my wrists were about to
snap.

“Say something already!” Alfred spluttered, red up to his
face, neck, and ears. “You’re killing me here!”

After some time had passed, I closed the notebook having
briefly glanced over the plot and historical notes. I didn’t need to do this, I
was merely fibbing around so that I didn’t have to leave Alfred right away.

I had told myself before that I wouldn’t stay with him
for long. Half an hour later, and it still wasn’t enough. Spending time with
Alfred was like a drug. You craved it, needed it. Instead of a high, he gave me
praise and acceptance. To me, this was the only satisfaction I would ever need
and couldn’t nearly get enough of.

“It’s so thorough,” I remarked in awe. “And here I
thought I was a good researcher. I can’t imagine how much thought was put into
this. And the characterization, my word! You really root for Allen to survive the
war in the end. It’s just a pity that it seems like you’re intending to have
his mental health be his final undoing. You’re not going to kill him off, are
you?”

Alfred’s solemn expression indicated the opposite.

“That’s so cruel!” I complained.

“Yeah, well, life is unfair like that,” Alfred grumbled,
leaning back to drape his arms over the bench. God, how I wanted him to wrap
his arms around me.

I fidgeted with my hands, thinking about how I was going
to break the news to Alfred. He treasured our time spent together just as much
as I did, only for different reasons.

“Thank you for showing me something so personal,” I
murmured softly. “That was very sweet of you.”

“Did it help?”

“Yeah,” I smiled. “I really think that it did. Which brings
me to my next point. I’m afraid I can’t stay here any longer. I have some
research to do for the piece, and now that my professor is expecting a lot more
from me, it’s got to be absolutely perfect.”

I stood up and slung my backpack over my shoulder.

Alfred spluttered. “Wha–?! You’re leaving?! Already?!”

I gave Alfred a sad look. “Yes, that’s what I just said,
didn’t I?”

“No!” Alfred fumed. He slammed his notebook into his
satchel.

“What do you mean, no?!” I snapped, irritation setting
in.

“You heard me, Artie,” Alfred growled. He curled his
gloved hands into fists as he stood up to loom over me. “This is our daily
meeting time, so wherever you go, I go.”

“Alfred,” I deadpanned, promptly ignoring the putrid
nickname. “You can’t just follow me around. I have work to do.”

“Yes I can! Watch me!”

“You’re going to get bored,” I shook my head in
disbelief. Meanwhile, my heartbeat sped up, hammering in my chest
uncontrollably. He was going out of his way to spend time with me. Me!

“No, I won’t. Now stop talking, and get researching. I’ll
eat and supervise.”

I scoffed when Alfred pulled out a PB & J sandwich
from his jacket. He really fancied those from the school’s cafeteria.

“Fine,” I growled. “Just don’t be too loud. And that
means chewing with your mouth closed!”

“Yep! Mhmmghgph.”

“Oh dear god,” I sighed, holding open the library’s door
for him. “How can you switch from being sweet and endearing to insufferable in
thirty seconds flat?”

Alfred swallowed heavily. “Beats me.”

“Don’t you have something better to do? How come you
don’t socialize with your actual classmates?” I asked. I let go of the door and
it swung shut with a satisfying click.

This was something I had always wondered. I only ever saw
Alfred in the library, or very rarely in the cafeteria. I didn’t know what he
did in his spare time, let alone which dorm building he was residing in. He was
a mystery, but I never asked these things out of fear of breaching his privacy
and very fragile personal bubble.

We walked together comfortably on the soft padded
carpeting and approached the balcony railing that overlooked the entire
library. I took a sharp right and Alfred followed.

“I do,” Alfred replied. “But you’re the one I hang out
with outside of class. I like you the most. I’m getting better at initiating
conversations, though! It must be because of the practice I have with you.”

Of all people, the yank had learned how to socialize better
from me. How ironic.

Still, that comment made me blush furiously; I had to
turn away. If he kept saying things like that…

“So!” Alfred whistled. “What type of reaching are ya
doin’?”

“I’m looking up biographies or newspaper articles about
people who used to attend the university. We’re supposed to write a story about
the past. I figured I would write a historical fiction piece about one of the
lores people on campus like to gossip about. I mean, seriously. If I hear one
more suicide horror story, my ears are going to bleed!” I sighed.

Alfred inhaled sharply. “That’s uh, real weird, Artie.
Where are you taking us anyway?”

“You mean where am I going?” I smugly corrected. “You’re
the one following me, remember? And, the records section, of course. I have to
base this piece on someone, even if I am going to change up a few things.”

“Oh,” Alfred squeaked.

I stopped abruptly, turning to shed Alfred with an
annoyed glare. “Let me guess,” I started. “You’re afraid there’s going to be more
ghosts in this section?”

“Well, yeah dude, that’s a fact! I know this library from
head to toe! I…uh came here a lot earlier in the summer than you did! The
records section is the worse because it’s about real people! I would know, I
used to sit there before I moved to the rooftop!”

“Tsk! You’re such a baby.”

“Am not!” Alfred protested.

“Are…” I turned around and realized that Alfred was gone.

I nearly jumped three feet in the air when Matthew came
walking around a nearby bookshelf. “I thought I heard you up here, Arthur. Francis
was looking for you earlier. He wanted you to come down and join us, but the
meeting’s over now… Eh, who were you talking to? I thought I heard another
voice?”

“Oh just some ridiculous yank who’s a total baby and is
scared of ghosts!” I spoke up just in case Alfred was nearby.

“How nice, you made a friend,” Matthew smiled. He looked
eerily maternal. I stifled a sigh. “I’ll let you two fight it out then,” he
smirked. There was a knowing expression on his face. “And Arthur?”

“Yes?”

“You should really start coming to the meetings. Your other friends in it would really like
you to go.”

“Maybe,” I shrugged.

“Mhmmm. Bye now.”

“Like hell I will,” I finished when Matthew’s soft
chuckles had faded away.

Without a certain loud-mouth to interrupt me, I began
pawing through several records. I flipped through maybe five of them before
jumping again at the sound of a pop can opening.

“What the hell are you doing?!” I hissed, angry because I
had nearly dropped the record book I was holding.

Alfred guzzled down a can of Fanta. “What?” he whined,
letting out a loud “AH!” as the carbonated bubbles scraped at his throat.
“There was a vending machine nearby and I wanted something to wash the sandwich
down.”

I pointed a sharp index finger at a bin around the
corner. “Garbage, now. You know full well that I work at this library. You’re
breaking one of the only rules here.”

“But Artieeee!”

“Don’t you ‘but Artie’ me! Now I’m going to count to ten,
and if that’s not in the garbage by the time I’m done…”

“I’m not doin’ it.”

“1…”

“…”

“2…”

“…”

“3…”

“Fine! Whatever! Be a stick in the mud, see if I care.”

“Hmmph! That’s what I thought,” I conceitedly murmured to
myself, and then smugly resumed my research.

Alfred had his revenge when he snuck up on me from behind
and playfully jabbed my side with his thumb.

“Gotcha!”

“AH!” Since I was a very ticklish person, I jolted and
accidently elbowed Alfred in the stomach.

“OOMPH!” Alfred turned and staggered backwards. He
grabbed at my waist to prevent himself from falling. All he managed to do was
bring me down with him.

Disorientated, it took me a solid thirty seconds before I
was aware of my compromising position. I was straddling Alfred.

Horror quickly set in.

Much to my surprise, Alfred didn’t panic. Instead he
laughed, squinting up at me as his glasses were left askew on the bridge of his
nose. His cerulean eyes seemed bluer under the fluorescent lights; it was an
indescribable shade.

So was how red my face was.

“Bahahaha! Your face!” Alfred reached out to pinch my
cheeks. “It’s so red!”

Silence.

“Oh, go fuck yourself!” I scowled and rigidly crawled off
him. I stood up and brushed off the dirt from my pants, attempting to maintain
some dignity.

“Aw, Arthur come back!” Alfred protested. He scrambled to
his feet. “It was just a joke, I’m sorry! I’m also sorry for messing up your
research!”

I looked over my shoulder, lips pursed in a death glare.
“Good night, Alfred. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I grudgingly admitted that last
part. I could never stay mad at him for too long. The way that his hair stuck
up unevenly from the fall almost made me laugh, almost.

“Night!” Alfred giggled. He was shaking his head as if I
were the weird one.

Unfortunately, I had a much larger problem in my pants to
hide and eventually get rid of.

…

Several hours later…

…

I furiously rubbed at my eyes, hoping to alleviate a
late-night grogginess spell. Each day, I had a set number of course readings
and work to do. If I didn’t finish what I had set out to accomplish, I wouldn’t
be able to sleep. Perhaps, this was my OCD, but I absolutely despised being behind
on my work. My anxiety simply wouldn’t be able to handle it.

I was stubborn, but at least this trait didn’t bring me
unnecessary stress caused by procrastination. Yes, Francis, I’m talking about
you, you overstuffed amphibian.

As of now, the Frenchman had gone to bed early, intending
to get some beauty sleep. For once, he wasn’t out partying. Either way, he was
a chronic procrastinator. Just watching him do his assignments at the last
minute gave me high blood pressure, and I didn’t even like him!

“Come on,” I grumbled to myself, both squinting and
widening my eyes. The pages were getting fuzzier and fuzzier.

It didn’t help that my level of focus was next to shit
since the incident with Alfred in the library a few hours ago. I couldn’t stop
thinking about it, and when I did, I would cringe so hard stars danced before
my eyes.

I leaned against the frame of my bed and straightened my
posture. I had lost count how many times I’ve cracked my shoulders and spine.
It was taking me over three hours just to get through thirty pages of material.
Normally, something like this would take me an hour and a half at most.

A voice in my head begged for me to sleep, and my heavy-lidded
eyes pleaded for this as well.

I hadn’t realized that my eyes had already closed until a
large bang against my windowsill startled me back into focus. Again, with the
irony here.

“I’m probably just imagining things,” I muttered. “Come
on now, only ten more pages to go. I can do this.”

Not thirty seconds later, my window banged again.

Irritated, I swung my legs over the bed. The cold tiling
pressing into the soles of my feet caused me to wince in discomfort. I padded
over to the window anyway and narrowed my eyes.

“AH-! FUCK!” I gasped without a shred of elegance. A
tall, hulking figure was perched on the tree outside my window. They were on
the closet branch, waving at me with a massive hand. Were they going to throw a
rock at me this time?

What if it was those delinquents from the bar area? Did
they know where I lived now?

Panic crept up my throat. I could hardly breathe, and
yet, I was frozen; motionless; terrified of what would happen next. Tears
pricked at my eyes, but I willed them back.

“Artie!” The figure bellowed. Their voice was muffled by
the glass panelling.

The clouds outside cleared. Under the moonlight, a gleam
of spectacles and cerulean eyes reflected back at me.

I grabbed at my chest as if it would somehow stop my
heart from beating as fast and unhealthily as it was now.

“Alfred!” I snapped. “What the hell are you doing here?!
It’s one in the morning!”

Alfred motioned for me to open the window. “Can’t hear
you, dude!” he mouthed, gloved hands cupped around his mouth. There was a
devilish smirk on his face that didn’t sit right with me.

Because I was embarrassed, I couldn’t hope to stop myself
from being rude. I wasn’t expecting company, not ever, but certainly not at
this hour. I was wearing sweats and a hoodie; being presentable was far out of
the question.

SLAM!

I opened the window harshly and scowled. “I said, what
are you doing here?! It’s one in the morning, you imbecile!”

This was the first time I had seen Alfred outside of the
library or cafeteria. I was being bombarded with too many surprises I wasn’t
nearly prepared enough to deal with.

Alfred shrunk back. “I…ah…wanted to apologize for
earlier. I didn’t mean to scare you off. I only meant to tease ya, and I guess
it really backfired, huh?”

I blushed at the reminder. I couldn’t even bring myself
to think about what I had done when I had gotten home earlier. Looking myself
in the bathroom mirror in shame afterwards was more than enough.

“Apology accepted,” I scoffed. This whole encounter was
just too ridiculous for me to process. “I’m sorry too. I get flustered easily.
Although, what you’re doing right now isn’t helping. How did you even find out where
I live?”

Alfred’s face brightened. “You told me you lived in the
Gaul dorm, remember? This window was the only one with the lights on, and since
you’re always studying, I figured this would be your room,” he explained.
“You’re very predictable, Arthur. It doesn’t take a genius to figure you out.”

“Brilliant,” I remarked sarcastically. “You’re a true
detective if I’ve ever seen one.”

“So,” Alfred shifted nervously. “You wanna come out and
gaze at the stars with me?”

“Honestly,” I crossed my arms. “You make no bloody sense.
First, you come to apologize to me when you could have done that tomorrow, and
now you expect me to sit with you on a flimsy tree branch that likely won’t be
able to hold up both of our weights?”

“I didn’t want to wait!” Alfred blurted out. “It was
really bugging me. You just left so abruptly. I thought I hurt your feelings
and then I felt really shitty about it and then I couldn’t sleep, so I came
here because residence doesn’t let you in past 11 PM and now you’re being
really mean and ah! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Crap! You must think I’m
so weird… Also, this branch is a lot sturdier than it looks, man! I mean, it’s
holding up my dead ass weight, ain’t it?!”

Silence.

Alfred rubbed at the back of his neck again and bit his
lip. He was breathing heavily, too petrified to form a coherent sentence.

I caved almost immediately. Seeing Alfred be sad like
this was too painful to watch.

“Fine,” I sighed. “But if I fall, I’m suing you. And are
you really that surprised that I’m being mean to you? I thought you were trying
to assault me! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Oh god!” Alfred gasped, sheepish. “I didn’t think of
that! Not that I think anything through, ahaha!” he laughed nervously. “I just
thought it was a nice night to enjoy. You would see this for yourself if you
came out here.”

“Well, I can’t do that if you’re not going to help me,” I
countered. “Not everyone has the figure of an Olympic athlete like you do. I’m
not exactly made for climbing.”

Alfred smirked and crawled closer to the window. He
extended a gloved hand, smug in all of his entirety. “My dearest pasty prince,
may I escort you onto this branch?” he mused.

“Forget it,” I snarled. “If you’re going to be
insufferable, I’ll just go back to doing my work.”

“No! Please!” Alfred whined. “Artie! Come on! It’s so
nice out! Take a break for once.”

Silence.

Alfred’s cerulean eyes widened, tearing up for dramatic
effect. “Please,” he said, waggling his massive hand at me. His long fingers
grabbed at empty air.

Silence.

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?”

My eyes twitched. Don’t look. Don’t look.

Damn it, I looked.

“Ple–!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, fine!” I snapped.

Laughing, Alfred took my hand. With a grunt, he hoisted
me up onto the branch. He held my waist with both hands until I settled on the
branch, comfortably next to him. There was a decent amount of distance between
us. I pretended not to acknowledge the jolts of electricity that shot up my
spine every time he touched me.  

“See, isn’t it nice out?” Alfred said serenely, pointing
up at the near perfect night.

I furrowed my brows. Just twenty minutes ago, it had been
pitch-black out and now there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. The moon shone
against us, a bright yellow orb that painted the campus with a dream-like dewy
light.

“Yes, actually,” I admitted, glancing at the cluster of
stars dotting the night. If you looked even closer, you could just barely make
out the murky trails of several nebulas. The campus was in a remote enough
location where star-gazing was far easier than it was in urban areas.

“I can’t remember the last time I was able to see full
constellations,” I continued. “Actually, I just haven’t bothered to do
something as simple as this for a long time now. You’re right, Alfred. It is
nice.”

Alfred playfully bumped his shoulder against mine.
“Thought so. You’re always so busy that you never look up to enjoy the simple
things in life. I’ve yet to see you relax. Being high-strung must be a talent
of yours.”

“Haha, very funny,” I yawned.

“Woah,” Alfred exclaimed when I began to sway without
realizing. “Just how tired are you exactly?”

“Very,” I murmured. “I’ll be…fine.”

“No, no you’re not. Can I um…” Alfred faltered, craning
his neck to look at me. “Can I wrap my arm around you? I just want to make sure
you don’t fall!!!”

Turns out I wasn’t the only one blushing profusely.

“W-what?!” I spluttered, only to falter when Alfred
shrunk back, embodying a kicked puppy position. “Well, ah, I mean, if you’re
comfortable doing it, sure?” I squeaked.

Without another word, Alfred wrapped an arm around my
torso in support. He was warm. I could feel the heat emanating from underneath
his bomber jacket.

“T-thanks,” I whispered.

“Any time,” Alfred just about squealed, his voice a few
octaves higher than normal.

Silence, again.

I willed myself not to breathe too much. Not that I was
able to. Alfred was so close. I could smell him: leather, and the gruff scent
of polish and hair gel. His arms were strong in their grip. I wanted to lean
closer, but knew it wouldn’t be appropriate given our relationship.

Instead, I focused on admiring the night sky. If I met
those wondrous cerulean eyes one more time, I didn’t know if I’d be able to
handle it. They weren’t mine to look at. For now, I could only cherish them.

“Hey,” Alfred spoke up again. His entire body was tense.
If he pointed up his chin any higher, he’d surely break his neck.

“Yes?” I replied, breathless.

“I really am sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have done
that.”

“It’s fine. You just startled me, that’s all.”

Alfred chuckled. “Just like I did now?”

“Yes,” I smiled faintly. “Just like you did now, you
stupid yank.”

“Aw come on, that’s not nice,” Alfred chided.

“Oh shut up,” I huffed. “You’ve patronized me enough
tonight. Just let me enjoy this moment while it lasts. Soon it’ll be over, and
then I’ll be thrust back into the never-ending cycle of lectures, papers, and
mid-terms. I need an outlet to vent my frustrations onto; you just so happen to
be it.”

“Fair enough,” Alfred snickered. “But, didn’t you say
something about having an annoying roommate? Don’t you get to vent your
frustrations onto him?”

“Oh, believe me I do,” I said in loathing. “I try to avoid
him most of the time, though. Unfortunately, he has a tendency to find me
wherever I am. Our meeting spot on the rooftop is the only place I can hide
from him.”

“Is he really that bad?” Alfred asked.

“Absolutely intolerable,” I shuddered. “He blasts music
all day, drinks wine, and parties just about every other night. Not to mention
that he constantly picks at me for, well, everything. My clothes, my diet, my
hair…my writing; apparently it’s really depressing and cryptic. He usually
shuts up after I tell him his writing sounds like it’s written from the
perspective of a sixteen year old drama queen. God, I can’t stand angst. Maybe
it’s because my life is already full of it enough as it is.”

Alfred shrugged. “I don’t know, dude. Maybe your roommate
is just trying to pull out the best in you. I’ve seen what you bring for lunch.
Not that I’m a master chef or anything, but bread and butter isn’t enough to
get you through the day. I don’t mind how you dress, and as for your writing?
As long as he’s not malicious, it’s okay to accept constructive criticism. I’m
sure he cares about you a lot more than you think. He wouldn’t bother if he
didn’t.”

“Alfred,” I groaned. “I’m trying to vent. I don’t need a
rational explanation and analysis like you’re my frigging therapist. I’m angry,
leave me be.”

“I’m just saying,” Alfred protested, albeit weakly. “It
won’t do ya any good if you keep pushing away people.”

“You currently have your arm wrapped around me,” I slyly
remarked. “I hardly see that as pushing people away.”

“Touche,” Alfred admitted.

“How about you?” I asked, re-directing the conversation.
“Surely, you can’t be that great of a roommate if you’re out this late at
night. Aren’t they going to be angry when you come back and wake them up?”

Truth is, I had no idea where Alfred lived on campus. We
had never even spoken about the subject.

“Nah,” Alfred waved his free hand. “I’m in a single. All
I have to worry about is sneaking past my res supervisor. It was pretty easy
considering most people are partying in their rooms at this time.”

I nodded my head, stifling my jealousy. What I would have
given to have a room to myself. If only I wasn’t dirt poor. No matter, this was
what I came here for. I’d get a degree and make myself a solid career.

“Are you always this impulsive?”

“Yes.”

“That was a rhetorical question,” I deadpanned.

“I know, it’s just fun bugging you,” Alfred countered
with ease. “I like how your eyebrows furrow together. It’s cute.”

Words cannot how flustered I became after that comment.

Thankfully, a distraction in the form of a very drunk
Italian saved me from responding.

“Antonio, you bastard,” Lovino slurred twenty feet below.
“Come here, and sweep me off my feet. I c-can’t walk, ahahaha!”

Antonio stumbled forward and giddily wrapped his arms
around Lovino. “You’re so cold, mi amor. That coat isn’t warm enough for you.
Here, allow me to help.”

I had to look away for the sake of privacy when the two
began to make out.

Alfred and I remained quiet until they had finally walked
away.

“They’re sure having a good time,” Alfred said shyly, a
hesitant smile on his face.

I don’t know what overcame me, but suddenly, a surge of
boldness balled up in my chest. Seeing Antonio and Lovino together didn’t just
make me jealous. I was motivated to test things out with Alfred, however small the
chances they were.

If not, I was perfectly fine with being friends with him.

Still, there was a small sliver of hope. Alfred was bi.
He had his arm wrapped around me. Everything was set into place, and appeared
like they were in my favour. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation talking, but I
didn’t care.

I leaned closer into Alfred, humming pleasantly. Alfred
stiffened, but didn’t pull away.

Perhaps it was the sereneness of the moment, or that I
was enjoying myself, but I desperately longed for more intimacy. It’s been too
long since I’d experienced it. After years of keeping to myself, Alfred was the
first person whom I had ever kept for more than just a couple weeks at a time.

I wanted him. More than that, I trusted him.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t me who made the next move.

Alfred brushed his right hand over my left. “You’re not
wearing any gloves,” he murmured. “They…they must be cold, right?”

“Mhhhm, yeah, very cold,” I said, impatiently.

I curled my fingers so that my knuckles brushed into his
palm. “Tell me something, Alfred. Are you comfortable?”

“Y-yeah why do you ask?”

I flipped our hands so that I was holding onto his. “How
about now?”

“Yeah…very comfortable,” Alfred flushed. “I’m never shy
with you, Arthur. You k-know that.”

I leaned closer, pressing my face a nose’s distance away
from his. “How about now?” I blinked.

“I would be more comfortable if you kissed me,” Alfred
said, bravely meeting my eyes.

“Took you long enough, lad,” I grinned. “I knew you were
clever.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips
against his. I moaned lowly when his tongue poked at my bottom lip. I opened in
compliance, letting our tongues slip together in slow, experimental movements.

“Mmmph,” Alfred sighed, and closed his eyes. Large,
steady hands raked through my hair while my own placed themselves against his
rock-hard chest.

I couldn’t believe it. I was kissing Alfred Jones… and he
was kissing me back no less, with just as much want and need as my own.

Our kisses became rougher, teeth clacking against each
other; messily, hungrily.

I gasped when Alfred squeezed my hips, moving so that his
back was placed against the trunk of the tree. Sometime in between our sloppy
brushing, I had crawled over to straddle him.

“Easy,” I growled. “You’re going to leave bruises.”

“I’m sorry,” Alfred breathed into my neck, feathering the
sensitive skin with delicate kisses. “I’ve just wanted to do this for so long
now. You’re beautiful, Arthur. I can’t help it.”

I nearly sobbed right then and there, but instead focused
on drinking up the pleasure of the moment. For once, I was being called
beautiful. I wasn’t just thinking that of another person.

I needed a moment to breathe, to take in what had just
happened. I resorted to pressing my forehead against Alfred’s, inhaling deeply.

Alfred grinned and rubbed his nose against mine. “You
haven’t said anything. I’m worried.”

“That’s because I don’t know what to say,” I replied,
sliding to rest my head against his collarbone. I was too shy to make eye contact.
“Here I’ve had a crush on you all this time, and it turns out that you feel the
same way. I’ve never had something work out for me so perfectly like this.
Forgive me for being stunned by it.”

Alfred tucked his chin over my head, one arm rubbing my back
in comforting circles. “Yup…” he trailed off, voice cracking. “That’s me for
you: I think I’m being straight forward, but I only end up confusing people.
I’ll probably never stop being impulsive.”

“Don’t!” I smirked.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t stop being impulsive. It’s the part of you that I
like most. How you get antsy at every off-hand remark. Or how easy it is to
make you happy. You’re precious, Alfred. I wouldn’t ever want you to change
that about yourself.”

“You don’t know me, I mean, all of me,” Alfred murmured
into my hair. “I suck sometimes by being awkward and getting mad easily, you
just haven’t seen it yet. I say things that I don’t mean. I…I… shouldn’t have
done this. It’s a wonder why you want to be friends with me. I…always fuck
things up…”

I pulled away from Alfred, alarm setting in. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, I said no. Don’t you dare give up now.
Alfred, I’m in no rush to take things farther. I’ll be patient if I have to,
because hell if we both know that I’m far from perfect myself. Still, you’re
the best thing that has ever happened to me. I couldn’t bear it if you left,
not after all that we’ve shared together. I would be happy only being friends
with you. Please, just don’t leave.”

Alfred’s arm tightened around me. “Okay,” he took a
jagged breath. “Someone’s got to protect you, right? I won’t leave you, Artie.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me too. You make everything bad
happening around me feel like it’s nothing. I just want to see you smile; to
hold you close; to make sure you…take care of yourself.”

“I do take care of myself,” I hiccupped into his chest.

“No, you don’t. Come, I’m putting you to bed and then I’m
going straight home. What kind of lunatic does homework this late anyway?”

“A nerd,” I dryly replied, trying not to look too
disappointed as I pulled away from him.

“I must be in love with a lunatic nerd then,” Alfred
smiled, shyly with a bigger one just begging to be released. He still looked so
uncertain. I didn’t want him to feel this way, so I resorted to being sarcastic
in the hopes of teasing him out of his shell.

“And I must be in love with a grammarless yank.”

“Selective grammarless yank,” Alfred corrected.

“Yes, yes, whatever. Now are you going to help me into my
room or not?”

“Oops, yeah, sorry.”

After much protest, and awkward fumbling movements,
Alfred helped me into my room. He also forced me to put my books away. I
offered no protest. He had an insufferable habit of making it impossible to say
no to him.

Once the lights were shut and I was tucked underneath the
covers in an angry, curled position, Alfred smiled and sat next to me on the
side.

“What?!” I snapped. “I did what you said, didn’t I?”

“Nothing,” Alfred whispered. “You just look really cute
again, grumpy too.”

“If you’re trying to flatter or court me, it’s not
working,” I scoffed, turning my back on him.

Alfred placed a hand on my waist. Even though there was a
good amount of fabric between us, it still burned pleasantly. “Don’t be like
that,” he tutted. “Artie, look at me.”

Reluctantly, I flopped onto my other side. My glare was
still in place, but my hot cheeks took away from the act. “What?” I spat.

Alfred bent over to kiss my forehead. “Good night. I
should really get going, though. I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”

When he got up to leave, through the window as we had
already agreed that Francis seeing him would cause way too much trouble and
questions, I panicked. “Wait!” I hissed.

Alfred turned around, gaping. “Huh?”

I bit my lip. “Can you…stay?”

“Only until I fall asleep!” I added when I noticed the
hesitant expression on his face.

The mattress shifted with another weight again. Things
didn’t seem real. I was just so happy. “Okay, that I can do.”

“Good,” I said stiffly, and left it at that.

“Geez, Artie. Aren’t you just full of surprises?” Alfred
laughed lightly. “I thought you didn’t need anyone else in your life?”

“Shut up. People change. It’s called character
development.”

“Right, right. I’ll just let my handsome prescence lure
you to sleep.”

He hadn’t just been teased out of his shell. He was
lounging on top of it now.

“You’re lucky I’m exhausted,” I warned. “Otherwise – yawn – you would be expecting a good
slap to the face for being so cheeky.”

“Literally.”

“Could you stop being such a smartass?” I snarled.

Alfred reached over to sweep a few strands of hair out of
my eyes. “That I can’t do,” he said in a smug tone.

I rolled my eyes, too tired to argue. “Good night,
Alfred. I hope you trip and fall on your way out.”

“You don’t actually mean that. Stop being so mean.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But it was still fun to say.”

“Shhh,” Alfred smoothed the back of my head. “You can argue
with me all day tomorrow. But, you won’t be able to if you don’t get a good
night’s rest.”

“Very true, love.”

“I just said shhh. You’re so stubborn, geez. I’m going to
be here all night if you don’t stop.”

Precisely.

I hmphed but didn’t say anything more. Last night was the
best sleep I’ve had in years. Why? Because someone other than Alistair
genuinely liked me for me. I didn’t doze off with pervasive guilt,
self-loathing or general anxiousness.

I was finally at peace.

…

The following morning, I staggered into the kitchen. I
had woken up far later than usual, Alfred of course having already left some
time last night.

I had a shift in an hour, so I would be able to see
Alfred then. Honestly, I’d never understand why he was so adamant on being
old-fashioned in everything he did. To not have a cellphone in this day and age
was almost unheard of.

Francis was sitting at the small table we had set up, his
laptop open with the latest news and a mug of coffee in his hands. He was
already dressed and primed to perfection, whereas my hair was sticking up in
every possible direction

I pretended to ignore Francis, refusing to let him sour
my good mood. Hell, if he wasn’t there to stare at me, I probably would have
allowed myself a small smile.

Someone liked me.

And I liked them back.

I still couldn’t get over it.

I drew the last straw when Francis tsked at me for my
choice in breakfast: oatmeal and a slice of toast.

“What?!” I snapped. I was standing up, eating my toast
over the sink. AS if I was going to sit down with him and engage in a civil
conversation. Not when he was looking at me so critically.

Francis took a slow sip of his coffee, eyebrows raised.
When he finished, he set down his mug in a dramatic, languid motion.

“You’ve been out communicating with spirits again,
haven’t you?” he accused. “Arthur, it’s dangerous to do it alone, especially
late at night. I would have come if they were bothering you that badly.”

“I did no such thing,” I said, and bit into my toast with
a loud crunch.

Francis’s eyebrows raised even higher.

“I swear to God, I didn’t!” I snarled. “Stop looking at
me like that. Even if I did, which I
didn’t, I’ve already told you that if I need your help, I’ll ask!”

“Oui, whatever, keep lying to yourself. See if I care,”
Francis sighed. He stood up from his seat and exited the kitchen.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?!”

Francis looked over his shoulder, sapphire eyes rolling.
“I don’t know, ask yourself. You’re the one being suspicious.”

I turned away from Francis, furious.

My curiosity peaked when I realized that he had left his
laptop open. Carefully, I leaned over the device.

In the search bar,
he had typed in “How to get rid of nosy roommates.”

With a splutter, I blinked harshly when the webcam opened
to snap a photo of me with a bright flash.

Francis poked his head into the kitchen, an obnoxious
lilting smirk on his face. “What did I say: suspicious. Now I have my proof.
The Arthur I know would never care about what I search, let alone think. You’re
unusually happy, and it’s beginning to freak me out.”

So much for my good mood.

To be
continued…