Reach out for the Sun [UsUk]

Eleven: Dine and Dance, My Dear

October

The first week of October came too fast and unexpectedly for both Alfred and Arthur, and neither of them could catch time quickly enough, as it was running past them in a wild tempo, leaving nothing but dust and ashes behind.
Autumn had completely settled over the British isles by now. Roughly described, nature was dominated by gold, orange and red, and the skies were slowly taken over by grey clouds, the previous bright blue visible only if one was lucky enough to look up towards the endless expanse at the right time of day.

This morning, Arthur got out of bed to a special Saturday - today was the date of the dinner party hosted in the Jones household.
He was so scared, it was unimaginable. Not even his daily glances at the sky could calm the tension boiling up inside. Apparently, spending years locked in his room didn't make him good at socializing. Now his anxiety took over, and he saw himself in the worst, most embarrassing situations that might happened at the dinner in the afternoon.

"Hopefully I won't need to say a word, I know Alfred and Matthew will talk enough by themselves..." He sighed and muttered to himself, leaning against his arm and glancing at the outside world. In his own eyes, he was pathetic for an adult. He didn't have a real job, could barely talk to a person, and he felt as if, even in other people's company, he was lonely. His mind was far too stubborn to stop losing itself in thought and infinite imagination.

It wasn't like he was escaping reality, either. He was just overly worried about every little thing, and even the smallest sadness could make his entire day horrible.

This is just like my teenage years, he thought miserably. Nothing is good.

How can I be happy with Alfred if I sense that the Universe will take him away from my weak hands at any moment?

I'd rather be alone, then face such loss and grief. I would not able to cope.

And as much Alfred kept convincing him that everything was okay, it was clearly visible that their situation wasn't even near okay.
It was like the once strong, invincible American boy was slowly disappearing with each day, and none of them still knew what was wrong. His figure got much slimmer, he was too thin, but he ate enough.
He got weaker, smaller... And it was happening quickly, through the course of one single week, they couldn't stop it whatsoever. Matthew noticed it, too, but the brothers didn't want to mention a single thing. It was unbearable to watch.

As much as he physically could, Alfred would hang out with his violin - for hours a day, that was, because he felt that soon, he would not be able to hold it up at all. Arthur was always there, listening and clinging to each enchanting sound, his heart screaming and interrupting the music by saying how he would lose that melody forever once Alfred is gone.
The golden blonde American knew very well what the Brit was thinking about, so he would just flash him many smiles and grins of confidence that they both knew was fake. But, it helped. Some optimism and hope was never a burden.

"Talk to me about it, Alfred, don't keep it in." Arthur would encourage him, but the other would shake his head in determination to keep everything in and not bother his loved one with his feelings.

"Artie, you're lookin' a bit uneasy. Just listen to the music, don't think about bad things. Bad things are... Well, bad." He'd reply, chuckling, and placed his violin on his shoulder with hesitant, struggling movements.

So how in the world was Arthur going to enjoy a calm and peaceful dinner party with some other people that he had never met before, if his first thought in the morning was always how Alfred was at death's door?

Well, that was a struggle for the afternoon. For now, he had only two jobs - to drink a soothing cup of tea and learn how to speak to people.

But he still wasn't able to catch time.