Reach out for the Sun [UsUk]

Twelve: I'm Numb, He's Burning Out

The radio was back on, everyone was sitting around the table, and each person had something to say except the awfully shy Englishman. Yet he didn't mind at all, taking in every word that the others were saying and only sometimes agreeing to what Alfred said with an almost silent yes. The food was absolutely delicious. Elizabeta labeled it heavenly, Adrienne said something in French that only Matthew was able to fully understand, but from the look on her face it was clear she was enjoying it, Gilbert gave it an entire list of compliments...

But Matthew couldn't eat.

He took a couple of microscopic bites here and there so he wouldn't seem suspicious or tense, but his stomach turned at the thought of what might be in that letter that Elizabeta brought for them.
Also, he learnt his lesson about keeping the mailbox open, but there was luck in having such caring friends.

"Are you feeling alright?" Adrienne whispered over to him in French so no one could get what they were saying, in case they heard. She noticed that he suddenly looked a bit paler than usual, and he didn't eat quickly, a thing that was a habit of his that both she and Alfred knew.
Though, the younger American didn't comment. He didn't want anything ruining this night for him, no matter how selfish that sounded, sometimes a break from negativity is just so needed.

"I'm fine, don't worry." He smiled, replying in the same language.

And as soon as she was going to tell him to relax, Alfred spoke up and interrupted their little conversation.

"You know, there is this really cool music competition in the city somewhere near the end of October and I would love to attend it, but I don't know who would be my accompanist on piano! Do any of you know someone?" He happily asked, and Elizabeta almost jumped out of her chair at the announcement.

"I play piano!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, practically scaring everyone aruond her. "I'd love to do it, Alfred."

"But... You still have a broken arm and all that." He commented.

"It will heal until the end of this month!"

"But... We need to practise, too. Oh, you know what? Screw practice! You'll be my accompanist!"

And so they laughed cheerfully, already excited for the competition even if it was weeks away.
Alfred couldn't miss the opportunity to play the violin on stage, just one more time. The reason he wanted it so badly was because he didn't believe that he'd live that long, and he got incredibly scared with the changes that had happened only over the course of one week. So time should just hurry up, let him play as soon as possible - but again, he wanted it to slow down. It was conflicting, and his mind was battling itself constantly over the same thing. Time.

Be careful, Alfred, Arthur was thinking, zoned out from the conversation once again. Don't make Elizabeta do the contest by herself. Oh, how he dreaded everything so deeply, the sorrow wouldn't leave him alone at any hour of the day.

"I just realized... Matthew and you look so similar." His thoughts were broken by Elizabeta's high pitched voice. "You both have blond hair, blue eyes, wear glasses, only Matthew's hair is quite longer. And he has much better clothing style." She teased. "Sorry, that's just the truth", she shrugged, and Adrienne immediately agreed.

"Wow, I didn't know we are gathered here to attack me. Oh, how you wound me!" Alfred placed his left hand on his chest, pretending to be insulted, but in reality, he understood what they were going for. Everybody else at the table was dressed as if they were attending a goddamn wedding or something, but he wore something a sixteen year old boy would on a casual school day. Though, he didn't care at all.