The Toy Solider

2. A Well Respected Man

"A well respected man" - The Kinks

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In society there are different types of people. There are those who were once poor but made a living for themselves. They are the ones who understand the 'lowly peoples' the best. Then there are those who were born poor, are poor, and will always remain poor. They, no matter what labour they do, simply cannot break their cycle. And finally, there are the rich high class people. They are the ones who flaunt around their luxurious items. The ones who push around anyone they do not deem posh enough. But Arthur was lucky. Although he was not in the high class, he was still respected and treated with humanity by them. In a way, he had his Grandmother to thank for that. She was a strong independent woman who would not stand for people walking over her. She was the woman who raised him, and eventually, abandoned him.

Everyone in London knew the name Arthur Kirkland, but Alfred wasn't from London. So when Arthur entered his room to change his bandages, he did the one thing everyone knew not to do to Arthur.

Hug him.

The perfect man trapped between his arms stiffened immediately at the contact. Alfred was not one to care about another's status, and therefore found no valid reason not to show this man any form of affection. It did not matter nor bother Alfred that the gesture was not being returned. Arthur Kirkland was a well-respected man, a man who had lived through many experiences, but not once, in any of his years, had anyone ever hugged him.

This man, a total stranger, was showing him years of unwanted affection in just one simple gesture. Arthur was dumbfounded to say the least.

Alfred pulled away and smiled up at the still stiff man before him, waiting for a response.

Arthur was quick to turn on his heels and flee the room as fast as possible. His mind was racing with thoughts that would not stop flying. He sped past Tino and out onto the street, needing somewhere to clear his mind.

Up above Alfred watched as the man he just hugged stalked down the quick-to-become bustling street, seemingly desperate to be anywhere but the same building as him. A slightly concerned looking Tino stepped into the room, moving to adjust Alfred's bandages.

"What's wrong with him?" Alfred asked.

"Arthur? I'm not sure," Tino replied, then pondered for a moment, "When I think about, he has been a little tense lately."

Alfred sat in silence, occasionally wincing as Tino re-wrapped and re-applied his bandages, thinking about the possibilities to why Arthur had reacted the way he did. Did he have something against Alfred? Or was he just opposed to physical contact? Never before had anyone ever reacted negatively to a display of what Alfred considered to be friendly affection. And never before had anything in the like bothered Alfred, so why was he feeling sorrowful?

Berwald was awaiting them as they entered the kitchen. It was a small room, taken up mostly by a large wooden table in the middle surrounded by four chairs. Berwald occupied one conversing with Peter who sat diagonal to him. There were two hot mugs of coffee sitting on the edge of the table. Tino took one and handed the other to Alfred, sitting down next to Berwald. Alfred took that as his cue to seat himself next to Peter who immediately abandoned his conversation with the tall stoic blonde in favour of his best friend.

"Morning Alfie!" He greeted Alfred excitedly.

"Morning," Alfred replied, quietly enjoying his new nickname. It reminded him of home, of when the country children used to beg him day in and day out to play with them. Using whatever nicknames and faces to persuade him to do so.