[Fanfic] Waiting on Forever (9/12)
Title: Waiting on Forever
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff
Pairing(s)/Characters: USUK. Brief mentions of fem!Canada and others.
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Alternative universe. Brief sensuality.
Summary: In death, Alfred F. Jones relives his sixty-seven years of life. He summons memories of friendship, love, and loss, and looks for the one person who can heal his broken heart.
Alfred never loved again.
There were no handsome men, no pretty, young women; no one-night stands, no longing glances, no feelings. His left ring finger remained bare until the end of his days. He was the sole occupant of his house, which was not quite 'home' without Arthur. No lovely strangers shared his bed. No new characters held his hand. Arthur was his first - and his last; just as Alfred would have willed it had fate let them live out their days together.
True to his intention, all his love went to Arthur on that cold April night. It stayed as such to Alfred's last breath, and stays so in his death. And as he stands stoic, staring solemnly before Arthur's grave, he knows he could have never changed that, even if he had wanted to. Even if he had tried dating and made attempts to find some other hand to hold, his heart would never let him. He knew, from the second he and Arthur had laid hand-in-hand in their sun-filled field, that Arthur was meant to be with him, and he was meant to be with Arthur. There was simply no substitute.
He briefly recalls how his friends always asked him why he never moved on. He always admitted that while he moved on, though for some time that was a lie, his heart never could. Eventually, he learned to live again. He continued to walk. He continued to breathe and even laughed again. Yet none of it was entirely heartfelt. It was all without reason, simply for survival, because his reason had been torn from him. He would not, and did not want to seek another.
Alfred answered their question the same way every time throughout the remainder of his life. He turned to them with his baby blue hues filled with loss and smiled a tiny, sad smile, and told them honestly: “I promised him forever.”
And forever it remains.
-
Author's Note: Short chapter this time around, but not much to say about it. Again, I apologize for the irregular updating. Next chapter will be up tomorrow for sure, to compensate for this one's shortness. Then, after that one is up, only two more to go!
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff
Pairing(s)/Characters: USUK. Brief mentions of fem!Canada and others.
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Alternative universe. Brief sensuality.
Summary: In death, Alfred F. Jones relives his sixty-seven years of life. He summons memories of friendship, love, and loss, and looks for the one person who can heal his broken heart.
Alfred never loved again.
There were no handsome men, no pretty, young women; no one-night stands, no longing glances, no feelings. His left ring finger remained bare until the end of his days. He was the sole occupant of his house, which was not quite 'home' without Arthur. No lovely strangers shared his bed. No new characters held his hand. Arthur was his first - and his last; just as Alfred would have willed it had fate let them live out their days together.
True to his intention, all his love went to Arthur on that cold April night. It stayed as such to Alfred's last breath, and stays so in his death. And as he stands stoic, staring solemnly before Arthur's grave, he knows he could have never changed that, even if he had wanted to. Even if he had tried dating and made attempts to find some other hand to hold, his heart would never let him. He knew, from the second he and Arthur had laid hand-in-hand in their sun-filled field, that Arthur was meant to be with him, and he was meant to be with Arthur. There was simply no substitute.
He briefly recalls how his friends always asked him why he never moved on. He always admitted that while he moved on, though for some time that was a lie, his heart never could. Eventually, he learned to live again. He continued to walk. He continued to breathe and even laughed again. Yet none of it was entirely heartfelt. It was all without reason, simply for survival, because his reason had been torn from him. He would not, and did not want to seek another.
Alfred answered their question the same way every time throughout the remainder of his life. He turned to them with his baby blue hues filled with loss and smiled a tiny, sad smile, and told them honestly: “I promised him forever.”
And forever it remains.
-
Author's Note: Short chapter this time around, but not much to say about it. Again, I apologize for the irregular updating. Next chapter will be up tomorrow for sure, to compensate for this one's shortness. Then, after that one is up, only two more to go!