Still Untitled >.> [6/?]
anonymous
February 23 2010, 02:16:32 UTC
Once again, it’s evening before things get patched up. Arthur returns to the dorm, chatting uncharacteristically with one of his newfound friends, a sweet Lithuanian boy names Toris. Toris, despite his small size and stature, appears well learned and very mature. Arthur laments on how he would have much preferred him as a roommate, especially as the poor boy seems terrified of his own
( ... )
Savior [18/20]
anonymous
March 1 2010, 02:10:49 UTC
It seems like hours before Alfred stops shaking.
Maybe it is hours.
He pulls back, looking at Arthur through glassy eyes. His mouth opens and closes, like he wants to say something.
But he doesn’t.
Arthur is the first to stand, and Alfred follows suit, arms limp, like a puppet.
Arthur swallows the lump in his throat. “You have to tell, Alfred.”
Alfred’s eyes grow wide, afraid. “N-no! I can’t! He said… Coach said…”
“He lied, Alfred. He played on your weaknesses to keep you coming back. To make you think you had no other choice.”
There’s misery in those blue eyes, pure, undisguised misery. “Oh. God, I’m so stupid.” He slams his fist into the wall, causing Arthur to flinch. “It’s my fault, if I hadn’t…” There are spots of blood where knuckles connected with plaster.
“No,” Arthur says, vehemently. “Alfred, it’s not your fault. Don’t let anyone tell you it is
( ... )
Savior [19/20]
anonymous
March 1 2010, 02:19:56 UTC
Arthur is skipping student council. He’s skipping student council to watch football practice.
He feels a shudder of revulsion, then remembers why he’s there, and feels another shudder of revulsion. At least coach is staying away from Alfred. Or, vice versa. In fact, it looks like Alfred is doing his best to stay as far away from coach as possible.
This is good. Arthur is one step away from extracting his model of Excalibur from the dormitory and running the bastard through.
Or, maybe just shooting him. Guns are easy to get in the States.
Practice is over, Alfred should just leave-
But he’s not.
Because coach is walking toward him, asking to speak with him.
And Alfred’s pale and terrified, trying to make up an excuse, but coach is so insistant…
No. NoArthur jumps up, rushes across the field. “Alfred!” he calls out. “Hey, Alfred, you have to go.” He blurts out, anything to get him away. “Your, uh, Chemistry teacher. She said you needed to see her, immediately after practice
( ... )
Savior [20/20]
anonymous
March 1 2010, 02:25:49 UTC
Arthur is worried. Alfred had left a while ago to retrieve his belongings, and still hasn’t returned.
Where is he?
Arthur suspects the worst. He’s lost, he’s dead, he met up with coach…
A writhing ball of nausea plants itself in the pit of his stomach. Oh god, he feels sick.
The doorknob turns. All of Arthur’s senses go into hyperdrive. “Thank God, Alf-”
He breaks off, words dying at his tongue.
Alfred’s back. He’s also bleeding, a trickle of blood running down his chin, and there are bruises slowly blooming on his neck and cheek and eye.
Arthur realizes he isn’t breathing. He had failed to protect Alfred again, when he had promised he would. “Alfred? Are you…? Coach. Did he…?”
“No,” Alfred is grinning, despite the split lip and bruises. His eyes are twinkling with the same light Arthur had seen at the beginning of the year, before any of this had happened. “No, he didn’t. I didn’t let him… Fought him off… Don’t think he was expecting it, he got totally caught off guard…”
Arthur grapples with emotions. He’s safe… He’s safe
( ... )
Savior Epilogue [1/2]
anonymous
March 2 2010, 01:23:14 UTC
In two days, coach is taken away.
In a week, people are whispering in the hallways, staring and hiding their mouths, wondering why coach left. Wondering why they saw the police cars and the murder in his eyes.
The team knows; it would have been too hard to keep it from them for too long.
They stare, ashen-faced as the police man describes what happened.
They’re shocked, terrified, confused.
Matt knows. He stands by Alfred, daring anyone to come within a five yard radius.
Alfred wishes they all would stop looking at him like that. He’s fine, he swears.
Sometimes, he wakes up in the middle of the night, ice cold and breathing hard. He curls in on himself, whimpering silently, trying to keep quiet.
But Arthur wakes up every time.
He whispers soothing words, trying not to feel as utterly useless as he always does. He offers tea, or, sometimes, wrinkling his nose, coffee
( ... )
Savior Epilogue [2/2]
anonymous
March 2 2010, 01:32:15 UTC
Alfred wants to stay with football. He loves football, and no force on earth will keep him from it. Not even… Arthur shakes his head. Not thinking about it.
They were given a replacement coach, a typical gym-teacher type, named Mr. Dumont. He doesn’t do much; Vince and Alfred do most of the coaching.
The team is horribly unprepared.
It’s the fourth quarter of the biggest match of the year. People from all over are there. Alfred’s dad is there, looking like slightly less of a demon then Alfred makes him out to be. He looks out of place in his pressed, pin-stripe suit, surrounded by screaming parents in jerseys.
Two minutes left. Their team is losing, 18 to 24. The team is calm, collected, trying to quell the rising panic felt by all.
Fourth down. Hike. They blitz forward, getting knocked over and under and to the side. Somehow, Vince wriggles out of the mass of people. He’s caught the ball, he’s running, adrenaline pumping and pumping and- TouchdownIt’s a tie. The buzzer rings. The game goes into overtime
( ... )
Darn moving...it's taking me forever and a day to get to anything.
A lovely ending to a lovely story anon. I love how they came together and that Alfred isn't afraid to move on in that capacity. It felt very nice and real.
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Captcha: nationalists zambian. I love you, Captcha
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I feel bad for liking this all so much.
strengthen outback ... yes recaptcha, they need all the strength they can get.
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Oh...oh god indeed. Very well done with these very important chapters. Poor Alfred... :-(
Can't wait to see where this will be heading next.
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Maybe it is hours.
He pulls back, looking at Arthur through glassy eyes. His mouth opens and closes, like he wants to say something.
But he doesn’t.
Arthur is the first to stand, and Alfred follows suit, arms limp, like a puppet.
Arthur swallows the lump in his throat. “You have to tell, Alfred.”
Alfred’s eyes grow wide, afraid. “N-no! I can’t! He said… Coach said…”
“He lied, Alfred. He played on your weaknesses to keep you coming back. To make you think you had no other choice.”
There’s misery in those blue eyes, pure, undisguised misery. “Oh. God, I’m so stupid.” He slams his fist into the wall, causing Arthur to flinch. “It’s my fault, if I hadn’t…” There are spots of blood where knuckles connected with plaster.
“No,” Arthur says, vehemently. “Alfred, it’s not your fault. Don’t let anyone tell you it is ( ... )
Reply
He feels a shudder of revulsion, then remembers why he’s there, and feels another shudder of revulsion. At least coach is staying away from Alfred. Or, vice versa. In fact, it looks like Alfred is doing his best to stay as far away from coach as possible.
This is good. Arthur is one step away from extracting his model of Excalibur from the dormitory and running the bastard through.
Or, maybe just shooting him. Guns are easy to get in the States.
Practice is over, Alfred should just leave-
But he’s not.
Because coach is walking toward him, asking to speak with him.
And Alfred’s pale and terrified, trying to make up an excuse, but coach is so insistant…
No. NoArthur jumps up, rushes across the field. “Alfred!” he calls out. “Hey, Alfred, you have to go.” He blurts out, anything to get him away. “Your, uh, Chemistry teacher. She said you needed to see her, immediately after practice ( ... )
Reply
Where is he?
Arthur suspects the worst. He’s lost, he’s dead, he met up with coach…
A writhing ball of nausea plants itself in the pit of his stomach. Oh god, he feels sick.
The doorknob turns. All of Arthur’s senses go into hyperdrive. “Thank God, Alf-”
He breaks off, words dying at his tongue.
Alfred’s back. He’s also bleeding, a trickle of blood running down his chin, and there are bruises slowly blooming on his neck and cheek and eye.
Arthur realizes he isn’t breathing. He had failed to protect Alfred again, when he had promised he would. “Alfred? Are you…? Coach. Did he…?”
“No,” Alfred is grinning, despite the split lip and bruises. His eyes are twinkling with the same light Arthur had seen at the beginning of the year, before any of this had happened. “No, he didn’t. I didn’t let him… Fought him off… Don’t think he was expecting it, he got totally caught off guard…”
Arthur grapples with emotions. He’s safe… He’s safe ( ... )
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Well done and thank you!
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I think you did a really great job with this story, can't wait for the epilogue <3
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Sorry I don't have anything more constructive to say, but I'm kind of stunned right now.
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In a week, people are whispering in the hallways, staring and hiding their mouths, wondering why coach left. Wondering why they saw the police cars and the murder in his eyes.
The team knows; it would have been too hard to keep it from them for too long.
They stare, ashen-faced as the police man describes what happened.
They’re shocked, terrified, confused.
Matt knows. He stands by Alfred, daring anyone to come within a five yard radius.
Alfred wishes they all would stop looking at him like that. He’s fine, he swears.
Sometimes, he wakes up in the middle of the night, ice cold and breathing hard. He curls in on himself, whimpering silently, trying to keep quiet.
But Arthur wakes up every time.
He whispers soothing words, trying not to feel as utterly useless as he always does. He offers tea, or, sometimes, wrinkling his nose, coffee ( ... )
Reply
They were given a replacement coach, a typical gym-teacher type, named Mr. Dumont. He doesn’t do much; Vince and Alfred do most of the coaching.
The team is horribly unprepared.
It’s the fourth quarter of the biggest match of the year. People from all over are there. Alfred’s dad is there, looking like slightly less of a demon then Alfred makes him out to be. He looks out of place in his pressed, pin-stripe suit, surrounded by screaming parents in jerseys.
Two minutes left. Their team is losing, 18 to 24. The team is calm, collected, trying to quell the rising panic felt by all.
Fourth down. Hike. They blitz forward, getting knocked over and under and to the side. Somehow, Vince wriggles out of the mass of people. He’s caught the ball, he’s running, adrenaline pumping and pumping and- TouchdownIt’s a tie. The buzzer rings. The game goes into overtime ( ... )
Reply
A lovely ending to a lovely story anon. I love how they came together and that Alfred isn't afraid to move on in that capacity. It felt very nice and real.
Thank you, thank you very much!
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