Re: To light you to bed [11/12]
anonymous
October 16 2009, 00:15:55 UTC
XX
Before Alfred knew it he was back in his car, going eighty on a sixty miles per hour motorway and hardly caring. His hands tightened around the steering wheel, his fingers tap, tapping against the plastic until even he was irritated at the sound.
He was not stupid, of course not, even he could see that Arthur was getting weaker every day and it was not because his economy was in bad shape or his cities in ruins.
Alfred glared at his face in the rear-view mirror. This was his fault; he was eating up Arthur’s strength, taking it for himself. Each moment of health and power was a stab to his heart. How could he stop it? How could he stop himself from doing this? He had thought that the merger would save Arthur but instead it was doing the exact opposite of what he had wished.
He saw it now; how stupid he had been. Arthur had every right to hate him. He hated himself. How could he have been so stupid...so arrogant?
But he was a hero, wasn’t he? He could fix this. Of course he could. He could fix everything.
As he approached the house, he noticed that something was amiss. There was someone standing at the gate, struggling to get the frozen bolt undone. A minute later, Alfred was close enough to see that it was Arthur, though surely that could not be right. Arthur had not stepped outside for a century. Why would he start now?
Pulling up along the drive, Alfred jumped up and was met with another surprise. He had not noticed it before but was hat not his bomber jacket wrapped around Arthur’s shoulders? Why was he...
And then it hit Alfred like a bullet of ice straight to the heart.
Before Alfred knew it he was back in his car, going eighty on a sixty miles per hour motorway and hardly caring. His hands tightened around the steering wheel, his fingers tap, tapping against the plastic until even he was irritated at the sound.
He was not stupid, of course not, even he could see that Arthur was getting weaker every day and it was not because his economy was in bad shape or his cities in ruins.
Alfred glared at his face in the rear-view mirror. This was his fault; he was eating up Arthur’s strength, taking it for himself. Each moment of health and power was a stab to his heart. How could he stop it? How could he stop himself from doing this? He had thought that the merger would save Arthur but instead it was doing the exact opposite of what he had wished.
He saw it now; how stupid he had been. Arthur had every right to hate him. He hated himself.
How could he have been so stupid...so arrogant?
But he was a hero, wasn’t he? He could fix this. Of course he could. He could fix everything.
As he approached the house, he noticed that something was amiss. There was someone standing at the gate, struggling to get the frozen bolt undone. A minute later, Alfred was close enough to see that it was Arthur, though surely that could not be right. Arthur had not stepped outside for a century. Why would he start now?
Pulling up along the drive, Alfred jumped up and was met with another surprise. He had not noticed it before but was hat not his bomber jacket wrapped around Arthur’s shoulders? Why was he...
And then it hit Alfred like a bullet of ice straight to the heart.
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