Arthur tugged gently at his stiff collar, loosening it a little bit as he slid back in his chair. The wooden legs made a dull scraping noise as it was pushed slightly along the stone floor. A pair of muffled voices sounded from behind his chamber doors, a light flickering underneath the door. With his long, thin arms resting upon the desk before him, he turned his head quickly. The voices grew louder and more recognizable and the clicking of heels against the floor became almost too painful to listen too. Arthur turned his head again so he was now face down in his paperwork, hands covering his ears. The door creaked open not a second later. “Is he asleep?” A harsh whisper seemed not too far away however not close enough to where Arthur was hunched over. Another voice answered the first one. Arthur couldn’t make out what he was saying though suddenly felt cold fingers dig into his shoulders in a gentle massaging gesture.
“Get out.” The briton lifted his head, his disheveled hair sticking up in all different directions. The taller man which stood behind him reached out and flattened a couple blond locks after licking his thumb.
“You can’t make me.” He loomed over Arthur with his glasses almost slipping off of the bridge of his nose. His blond hair was brushed back though his stubborn cowlick still stood up with a slight curl. A subtle smile graced his rosy pink lips. They locked gazes for a few minutes as Arthur had turned his head to glare at him. Arthur turned back to his desk and let out a heavy sigh.
“You’re right, I can’t.” He shoved a few papers off his desk and watched as they cut through the air and slid across the floor - some of which escaping underneath their bed, “But I much rather be left alone.” He murmured quietly, rubbing a finger under his nose after sniffling loudly. He coughed violently not too long after that.
“I just want to make sure you’re ok-”
“Alfred.” He cut him off before he could utter another word. The king fell silent - they both fell silent until Arthur made sure he had his attention.”I’m sick and I have been sick for a while. I’m not ok.” He furrowed his thick brows as he stared up at Alfred sappily. “You know this already.” Alfred let out a heavy sigh just as Arthur had done earlier and glanced off to the side. “Though you refuse to believe it.”
“I care about you.” He lifted up an arm and placed a hand on the back of his neck.
“I realize that, Alfred.” The briton breathed almost silently, delicately declining company for what seemed to be the hundredth time. “But I beg of you just to... leave me alone...” Alfred swayed side to side for a moment before advancing towards the door backwards, turning on his heels and leaving. Arthur watched as the door shut quietly, a sudden sensation of guilt resting in the pit of his stomach. He ignored it for a few minutes as he got up, his legs aching as he made his way towards a mirror and a bowl of hot water, taking a soft wet cloth out of the dish and rubbing it gently over his forehead. Nevertheless the guilt became too much and he stumbled over to the door, flinging it open before racing down the corridor only to find Alfred hadn’t gone very far within those few minutes. “Alfred.” He called out however quietly, “I’m sorry.” Arthur apologized and walked over to him, reaching out and gently taking his hand. “I know times may be tough at the moment, I shouldn’t be so hard on you.” Alfred looked down at him and merely laughed much to his dismay. Arthur scowled and averted his gaze.
“Just go to bed already, Arthur.” He smiled in his usual childish way. Arthur’s heart fluttered for a brief moment and he let go, his hands sweaty. “I’ll bring your dinner up when I’m ready to retire for the night.” The briton nodded, returning to their room without a further word.
Later on in the evening, Arthur had not slept at all. Alfred hadn’t returned from the dining hall either and a storm had picked up outside. The queen of spades sat on the edge of the bed and stared out through the balcony doors, some rain already having slipped underneath them. His chest felt tight, head throbbing. He leaned forward and rubbed his temples soothingly however suddenly lurched and vomited on the floor. He screwed his eyes shut and panted, now clutching his stomach. He got up to run into the bathroom though stopped as he passed the balcony doors. Something about the rain pattering on the stone outside was so tempting. It beckoned him. Though the threat of him vomiting again was imminent, he flung open both doors and ran outside, placing his hands on the short wall. Arthur turned his head up towards the thunderclouds. This obviously wasn’t good for him but that didn’t stop him at all. His fingers dug into the wet stone, his nails filled with dirt and moss. Not before long he found himself screaming out into the night, the thunder and rain drowning out his cries. He took a deep breath, leaning forward more and letting out another loud yell. He vomited again moments later nevertheless stood right back up and continued. It felt good to let it go for those few moments. The cold rain was gentle and refreshing on his pale face. He took a deep inhale through his mouth and managed a grin despite himself.
