The Mind of Sir Arthur Kirkland (a hetalia fanfiction)

[2]

[Alternatively Titled: [In Which I Reference Hannibal and Nick Jonas in the Same Chapter]

"Hey buddy, you in London?" was the text that Arthur sent. Alfred was supposed to be coming in that day for a visit, the president had some sort of business to carry out.

Arthur wasn't looking forward to the meet up. He hadn't gotten much sleep at all, so he was more grumpy than usually. He was also afraid that Alfred would ask about his mental state. Not that anything was wrong.

He was fine.

His phone chimed- "Just landed. U coming?" Alfred had answered.

"Yeah, be there in an hour" Arthur typed back. He sighed and got into his car, and sped toward the city.

{timeskip brought to you by eyebrows. Just eyebrows. Maybe your eyebrows. Who knows?}

The two were walking and talking down and around Trafalgar Square- it was a,nice, rainy day, like almost every other day in the country.

"So how's it been old man? You holding up alright?" Alfred asked.

"Fine. Perfectly fine. Why you ask? Everything is good." Arthur answered rather quickly.

"It's just... Francis told me you were having a few problems sleeping and stuff." Alfred turned to face him.

His eyes were full of worry, though the brit did not see them. He was hallucinating. Instead he saw only pulsing muscle, as if all of Alfred's skin had been ripped from his body. Arthur blinked, and everything was back to normal.

"I told you, I'm fine." His voice wavered.

"I'd like to try something I saw it on a TV show." He took out a note pad and pencil, and handed them to Arthur. "Draw me an analog clock. The time is 2:32, P.M. by the way."

"Oh I see, Mr. Jones, expert psychiatrist. Here, see? There is nothing wrong."

He handed the American the note pad. Alfred's eyes became wet with tears. Just as he had thought, none of the numbers were where they were supposed to be. A few weren't even numbers, just old Anglo-Saxon runes.

Arthur was suddenly pulled into an awkwardly rough hug.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Arthur exclaimed.

"Just... Just another test. You're right. You're fine. nothing wrong." He lied, letting go. "I'm hungry- why don't we go get some fries?" Alfred said, trying to change the subject.

"They're called chips, you prat."Arthur said, laughing a little. "Yeah, sure. there's one right around this corner I know of..."

---

Then Arthur was in his kitchen. As if he were teleported, he just suddenly appeared there. Or more like waking up. He looked at the wall clock- 6:54, P.M. What had happened?

He called up Alfred.

"Are you okay?"Arthur asked him as soon as the ringing stopped.

"Yeah... Why? Are you not?" was the confused reply.

"What happened in the last... Three hours or so?"

"Why? Are you alright bro?"

"Answer the question, and I'll answer yours."

"Fine... Um, well we went to that fish n' chips place, and you kept saying how nice my my glasses and hair were, and-"

"Sorry, what?"

"You said you liked my glasses and hair and stuff. I know, weird. Your voice jumped up like, a whole octave or something for like, the whole last bit of the time you were with me. Then we walked over tower bridge, and we took pictures. You were talking about weird things, Artie."

"L-like what?"

"Like baking, or making your eyebrows 'normal', and clothes. Clothes, Arthur. You kept calling me Alfie, or Al."

"Are you sure that was me?"

"Yeah, no one can do eyebrows like you. Weren't you going to answer my questi-" Arthur hung up before he could finish.

He went straight to his room, shut the door. Nothing made sense. Nothing! He got into his pajamas, even though it was only about 7. He thought, that maybe if he went to bed earlier, he might get some sleep. That didn't happen, of course.