Now you see, when a table collapses and someone is on it the sensible thing to do is see if they're hurt and call an ambulance. Arthur did the wrong thing. He panicked and began yelling and running around the mess. Matthew was too in shock to do much. And Alfred... well, let's just leave suspense.
"What do I do? What do I do? I'm scared, where the hell is a phone? I'll call Elizaveta, she'll know what to do!" Arthur decided. And so, twenty minutes later, here we have a Hungarian staring at the American with her portable frying pan ready to kill one of the two.
"Why didn't you call an ambulance?! He could be hurt and we've been standing around!" Eliza yelled.
"Let's call all of his friends!" Arthur suggested. Eliza facepalmed.
"You idiot! We call an ambulance! Ambulance! How the hell have you not called one yet?!"
"I thought calling you was a good idea!"
"You're right, but he could be seriously injured you twit!"
Eliza was ready to hit him with her frying pan before Matthew said, "I'll call one."
And so, five minutes later there is an ambulance in front of the house. You can get a pizza delivery guy there in three. The unconscious Alfred was carried into the ambulance, a crying Elizaveta and Arthur watching it leave. Matthew had gone with his brother, sighing softly.
"Sometimes I think I'm the bad person and you're the good one ... but then I remember you tried to kill seven people because they pretended I didn't exist... but then again, you doing that makes you a good person... in a morbid sort of way."
After five hours of tears, friends arriving at different times, and Matthew buying everyone Chipotle, Alfred woke. He wasn't very surprised to be met with a white room. He'd been here several times. He'd never been here without injuries and this day was no exception. He had a cast on his leg and a few scrapes and bruises otherwise. He laughed a little, "This is adorable. I've had worse... indefinitely."
His friends had fallen asleep in the waiting room. Even Matthew had. Arthur hadn't though. No. He had so many questions for the American that he wasn't going to sleep. No, not even if mint bunny was appearing in his peripheral vision and talking to him.
"Sir," a sweet voice said. Arthur's head shot up. Curse the nurse... he was just thinking of what he was going to say to Alfred. "Your friend is awake."
Arthur shot up and began walking towards his room. He burst through the door, yelling, "Alright Alfred, I have so many questions for you!"
Alfred looked up, almost seeming startled by his appearance. He gave him a gentle smile. That was weird. Alfred was never gentle. "Ah Arthur, nice to see you."
Arthur was pissed now. And nobody likes a pissed Arthur. "Is that all I get?! You confess to me, talk about your dead mother and don't elaborate, and then a table collapses with you on it and all I get is a 'nice to see you?!'"
Alfred kept his gentle smile. "I'm sorry Arthur, I don't know what you want out of me."
"You prick! What is your past Alfred?! What has caused you to love me?!"
Alfred blinked a bit and sighed. "You want my past... and why I love you. The second one is simpler than the first... I don't want to answer either question, but I don't have a choice, do I?"
"If you don't want me to be pissed at you for all eternity, then yes, I want answer."
Alfred sighed, "Then I guess I have no choice. It all started when..."
To be continued-
YOU ARE READING
USUK- I love you more than Nutella
RomanceAlfred is your typical bad boy, scary, rebellious, and feared by all. Except when he meets a barista that'll show a different side to him completely. That barista? His name is Arthur Kirkland and he goes to school with the bad boy. The problem with...
