Rest Calm

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It's 4am and i decided i should finish this fic that's been sitting in my folder for a year or more now, lmao.
This is based on something that happened to me, but i did not have Alfred (or anyone) there to comfort me T^T shucks
i'm using my (old) school as reference here since i know jack shit about american or whatevers school systems. Anyways, it doesn't say where they are, so,,,

Not Beta-ed

***

Alfred gave her a smile and moved to sit next to her, "What happened?" The American eyed the girl from the corner of his eyes and played with the hem of his jacket to have something to do with his hands.

"Why the bloody hell should I tell anything to a bloody stranger?" Good point, she had gotten him there, but...

"I'm Alfred. Alfred F. Jones, studying Science and Technologies." He extended his hand for her to shake which she did after hesitating a few seconds.

"Isabella Kirkland..." She spoke quietly, voice raspy, "Visual Arts."

Alfred took the chance to examine the girl – British girl if the accent was anything to go by – as she tried to clean her teary eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. The American was glad to know that she didn't seem bruised on any part of her body that he could see and he didn't dare to stare longer than he should lest Isabella takes it the wrong way.

As he heard her runny nose he pulled a packet of tissues from his pocket and offered her one which she took after thanking him.

Alfred slid a few centimetres closer to the girl, waiting for her to compose herself somewhat. He heard her trying to regulate and stabilize her breathing while muttering something to herself. Alfred suppressed a chuckle when Isabella crumpled the tissue in her right hand and looked down at her knees, fuzzy eyebrows furrowed together in what seemed frustration.

"So, what happened, did someone hurt you?" Alfred finally asked, this time he expected a decent answer, "Do you want me to go get a glass of water or something?"

Isabella shook her head from side to side and wrapped her arms around her bent legs.

"I... I just—" She inhaled sharply, her voice wavered slightly and Alfred thought she was going to cry again, however she managed to regain her composure, "This is stupid." She finally mumbled sighing in defeat.

Alfred raised an eyebrow, shifting closer once again, "What is?"

Isabella clicked her tongue, stretched her legs, and raised her arms above her head, and Alfred leaned away wondering if she was going to scream, but she didn't, instead she just a made this inhuman sound that will probably haunt him at night from now on and then slumped against the wall.

"Everything." She finally said.

Well, okay, then.

"Oh."

Silence.

"I panicked." She admitted then, Alfred hummed waiting for her to continue. "I... I just looked at my drawing and then to my colleagues' drawings and I..." Her voice was starting to crack, it seemed like she was going to cry again. Alfred bit his lip as his brows furrowed in concern, "I hate my drawing. It's horrible, I'll never get a good grade with my bloody awful art! I can't do it!" She broke down crying again.

Alfred scratched the back of his neck, wondering what he should do. He didn't understand shit of arts. He was in Science. Maths and Chemistry, he knew about that, it was logical.

Art on the other hand... wasn't logical. Art was art. One couldn't simply explain art.

Alfred wasn't quite sure what to do to comfort her.

"Hey..." He started softly, approaching her carefully, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, "I don't know anything about art. I'm possibly one of the worst people at drawing out there. I'm sure you can definitely beat me in art!" He joked, trying to cheer her up, but it didn't seem to be working however.

The American huffed quietly as Isabella buried her head in her knees, shoulders shaking with sobs. It pained him to see someone like this.

"I'm in the middle of a test." She whimpered, "But I can't do it." The Brit stressed shaking her head, Alfred could notice the strain it was putting on her just thinking about going inside again. He couldn't really understand why she couldn't do it, since it was simply drawing, right?

Maybe it was harder than it looked, Alfred wasn't going to underestimate art. He had heard that it could be degrading although he didn't understand how.

The American pulled the other into an awkward hug. He felt her tense in his arms, sobs stopping momentarily before she just let go and cried on his shoulder. Alfred gulped as he rubbed her back.

Isabella had to go back nevertheless, she had to finish the test. Alfred had to persuade her somehow.

"Listen, Isabella, I would love to switch places with you and do your test for you – You would get a shitty grade cause I really suck at art – but hey, it would be done, haha! But, you gotta go finish your test. I'm sure you're a good artist and more than capable of finishing that thing! You're nervous, it happens, that's why you panicked. It has happened to me as well, but in the end I just nail it and somehow, in the end, it all ends swell~" Alfred pulled away from the hug, grinning down at the flushed Brit.

Isabella sniffed quietly, and Alfred dug into his pockets to get one more tissue.

"It'll be alright. Even if you fail this one, there's still more opportunities to get a better grade, yeah?" Isabella nodded slowly while blowing her nose, "It'll be okay~ Don't let this test get you down! Just do what you can – even if it isn't up to your standards –, that will always count for something! The more you worry, the stressed you'll be and that just takes a toll on anyone's health, it's not good." The American nodded to himself, but it wasn't like he should be talking about it since he could get himself worked up rather quickly when it came to a problem he couldn't solve at first.

Alfred ruffled Isabella's already messy blond hair receiving an acid-green glare in return, though, with the puffy red eyes and cheeks it was hard to take it seriously. The American simply beamed at her before standing up.

Isabella glanced at his outstretched hand before gazing up at his eyes with a (big) eyebrow raised. The American shook his hand, the Brit sighed and finally accepted his hand. Alfred pulled her up to her feet and grinned at her.

"Thank you, Alfred..." She mumbled, cheeks reddening even more in embarrassment. The American chuckled.

"No problem! Now, get in there and ace that thing! You'll do awesomely~!" Alfred put his thumbs up for her before looking down at his wristwatch, "Oh, shit— I'm super late! Let's meet later again! Break a wrist, Isabella!" The American shouted while waving a hand over his shoulder as he ran to his Chemistry class. He would have to come up with a really good excuse for his lateness.


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