Rising Fascination

Blinding

When Alfred wakes up, he's on a soft hotel bed. Blinking to focus on the off white hotel ceiling. Turning his head, he can see Arthur looking at him with worry.

The room was silent, his eyes travel as far as they can see in his position, and the room was seemingly empty.

Notably, this was a different room entirely. Not one he had been in earlier, and there was only one king bed in the room. The walls were painted a different color, and the gaudy art that decorated every room was also different. Drawing to the conclusion, definitely in a different hotel.

"I wanted everyone to get their rest. The rooms were all booked at the other hotel, so I got you somewhere else to sleep. I know you'd be upset if everyone was awake worrying at this hour." Arthur answers his question before he could ask it, the man always had amazing intuition.

Alfred nods, suddenly realizing how dry his throat felt. "Can I have some water please?" He asks, his voice horse as he spoke. Still a strange sound to hear with his voice being suddenly the one of a child.

England nods, getting up only to return moments later with a water bottle. He opens it and passes it off to Alfred. The young boy takes a long drink of the water, before passing it back to Arthur. "Why aren't you asleep?"

With a sigh, the Brit puts the cap back on the water and leans back. "Couldn't sleep, I wanted to make sure you were safe." America could see the exhaustion on his face, suddenly it seemed so noticeable. He was wearing pajama pants and a plain   Shirt, clearly the man was ready for bed. Yet he wasn't awake at his bedside. "I know Matthew and Francis were worried, especially that brother of yours couldn't relax and kept staring at you. Russia was also surprisingly upset, he was quite shaken when he was trying to explain everything."

"What time is it?" Taking in every word the man had just said, but nothing was really sticking as he felt sleep weigh heavy on him again.

"2:30 in the morning lad."

The boy yawns, looking over to Arthur. Blinking slowly, he scoots far to the other side of the bed. Patting the side of the sheets with one hand, he rubs his eye with the other. "You need sleep too Artie, you're not very useful when you're tired either."

He hesitates for a moment, wondering if he should fall asleep, thinking it would be better to stay awake. England caves though after his internal battle, and slides into the bed sheets. "I'll try my best then." He turns off the bedside lamp, rolling on his side away from Alfred. "Goodnight."

Alfred lays on his back, head turned towards his older sibling. "Goodnight Artie..." he pauses. Then in a gentle whisper he says "I love you."

Just as his eyes began to close, his eyes after several moments of silence he can hear the quiet voice of "I love you too." Of Arthur as he falls asleep.

"Son of a—, fuck!" Alfred yells as he kicks a stone on a dirt path. He was a colony, but tall and in the process of becoming a man. Just almost a nation on his very own.

His outfit was dirty, and he walked around outside. He was angry, so angry.

Stupid Arthur, did he not think he was capable? He's grown plenty and he leaves him alone all the time, why can't he even put in his own thoughts? After all it was his country.

Leaves that laid on the ground crunched under his feet with every step, hands stuffed his pockets.

What was the point in all of this, in him even having to do the work of he couldn't have a say in how to run anything?

Him and his brother got in another fight, they've been happening a lot recently. Maybe over the last year they just got worse and worse. Almost anything he did would be criticized by his brother, and his people have been having little "outbursts" against British control. Which he could hardly blame them for! Not that Alfred could say anything to help them, because he's just met with "it's for the best lad you'll understand when you're older." Or "quiet, this isn't something you have to worry about."