Uk/Us Other Side of Time [2/?]
anonymous
June 19 2009, 00:05:26 UTC
“She’s leaving me,” Arthur says, and he’s not quite sure why he decided to put it like that. He could have said I’m letting her go, or I’m done with this or anything that wouldn’t make him sound so defeated.
But no, that’s the only thing he says. She’s going to leave me.
Francis nods, but doesn’t offer any comment. Matthew hides his smile behind the tea-cup, and Alfred burst in a joyful celebration that ends with the line Arthur knew was coming:
“About damm time”, he says, and it’s Arthur’s turn to nod in silence. About damm time.
Time.
“Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re going to be all depressed over this! For Chrissakes, Arthur, let the poor girl breathe”
Breathe.
Yes.
Arthur keeps his eyes down. He knows, in some distant part of his mind, that he’s looking at this tea-cup. That right next to his arm is the plate with the biscuits he made especially for this, because he knew Alfred and Matthew were coming. But Alfred took one bite and said he wasn’t suicidal enough to eat the rest, and Matthew didn’t say a thing.
Arthur stares at the table-cloth.
He sees a pattern of pink flowers, bright green leaves he embroidered himself a long time ago. He sees her face, her dark brown skin, a trace of pink in her cheeks, a glimmer of green in her black eyes. He sees those eyes closing in pain, her face purple for lack of breath, he hears her voice -I won’t hurt you, I won’t hurt you, I wont- over and over, while he hits and punches and kicks.
“Arthur,” Alfred’s voice cuts his thoughts, annoying, screeching “Get over yourself! Learn to take this like the old man you are, you- come on, how important was she to you anyway? You didn’t get like this when I broke away!”
“Shut up,” says Francis.
“Why? I’m just saying-”
“Shut up.”
“-that he should be used to this and anyway this big empire-age thing is over, and-
“Alfred, shut the fuck up”
Silence. Francis’ eyes are cold and furious.
Then Arthur gets up:
“He’s right”, he says in a very small voice, and he’ll say more, he’ll say he’s fine and everything is fine, time is changing and he’ll get used to this, but the words vanishes before he can actually say it. He takes the biscuit plate and leaves.
He hears Alfred mumbling “Well forgive me for trying to help, I just saved your asses here and I can’t even-” and Francis is talking in French and Matthew-
Arthur throws the plate on the trash can, is a little disappointed when it doesn’t breaks. Then he feels a hand touching his arm.
He turns to face Matthew’s shy little smile. Arthur stares at him, without the strength or the will to smile back. He doesn’t even react to the touch.
She said she wouldn’t hurt him. He is hurt, but not as much as her. His Maya, his jewel in the crown, and he had hurt her, he had hurt her pretty badly, and he can still see the girl thrashing on the floor.
He can’t say the moment when Matthew leaves. Or the moment he goes to the library to sit alone. He knows he’s there now, looking at the window, and he can’t say the moment when all the lights go out and the house turns dark. It doesn’t mean anything.
OP UTTERLY LOVES THIS, AUTHOR!ANON. Not only does it have England/India, which is one of this anon's pet pairings and protective!France, but aeryjshgm, how can you say it's not talented enough? It's gorgeous, and I'll be waiting for the next parts anxiously~ ♥♥♥♥
Re: Uk/Us Other Side of Time [2/?]
anonymous
June 20 2009, 19:25:00 UTC
I love your India, and your Canada, and France, and America and England. I almost wish this wasn't going to end up UK/US just because everything is so balanced and beautiful right now.
But no, that’s the only thing he says. She’s going to leave me.
Francis nods, but doesn’t offer any comment. Matthew hides his smile behind the tea-cup, and Alfred burst in a joyful celebration that ends with the line Arthur knew was coming:
“About damm time”, he says, and it’s Arthur’s turn to nod in silence. About damm time.
Time.
“Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re going to be all depressed over this! For Chrissakes, Arthur, let the poor girl breathe”
Breathe.
Yes.
Arthur keeps his eyes down. He knows, in some distant part of his mind, that he’s looking at this tea-cup. That right next to his arm is the plate with the biscuits he made especially for this, because he knew Alfred and Matthew were coming. But Alfred took one bite and said he wasn’t suicidal enough to eat the rest, and Matthew didn’t say a thing.
Arthur stares at the table-cloth.
He sees a pattern of pink flowers, bright green leaves he embroidered himself a long time ago. He sees her face, her dark brown skin, a trace of pink in her cheeks, a glimmer of green in her black eyes. He sees those eyes closing in pain, her face purple for lack of breath, he hears her voice -I won’t hurt you, I won’t hurt you, I wont- over and over, while he hits and punches and kicks.
“Arthur,” Alfred’s voice cuts his thoughts, annoying, screeching “Get over yourself! Learn to take this like the old man you are, you- come on, how important was she to you anyway? You didn’t get like this when I broke away!”
“Shut up,” says Francis.
“Why? I’m just saying-”
“Shut up.”
“-that he should be used to this and anyway this big empire-age thing is over, and-
“Alfred, shut the fuck up”
Silence. Francis’ eyes are cold and furious.
Then Arthur gets up:
“He’s right”, he says in a very small voice, and he’ll say more, he’ll say he’s fine and everything is fine, time is changing and he’ll get used to this, but the words vanishes before he can actually say it. He takes the biscuit plate and leaves.
He hears Alfred mumbling “Well forgive me for trying to help, I just saved your asses here and I can’t even-” and Francis is talking in French and Matthew-
Arthur throws the plate on the trash can, is a little disappointed when it doesn’t breaks. Then he feels a hand touching his arm.
He turns to face Matthew’s shy little smile. Arthur stares at him, without the strength or the will to smile back. He doesn’t even react to the touch.
She said she wouldn’t hurt him. He is hurt, but not as much as her. His Maya, his jewel in the crown, and he had hurt her, he had hurt her pretty badly, and he can still see the girl thrashing on the floor.
He can’t say the moment when Matthew leaves. Or the moment he goes to the library to sit alone. He knows he’s there now, looking at the window, and he can’t say the moment when all the lights go out and the house turns dark. It doesn’t mean anything.
Time has stopped.
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*drops dead*
*revives*
Do please continue this. It's just beautiful and heartwrenching.
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Eagerly waiting for more, authoranon!
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