Of Love From The Heart

Today was the day.

Alfred F. Jones smiled as he held the object in his hands. Soon, oh so soon, would he be able to give it to him. Nervous as he was, he was also excited. He just…couldn't wait. But he had to; he had to contain his feelings until the time was right. And well…when he gathered up the courage to do so. He pocketed the object, as he went to wake his lover from his dreamful slumber.

~<3~

Arthur Kirkland groaned as the sunshine poured into the room. Was it really morning already? Mornings always come too fast nowadays. He rolled onto his side, facing away from the window and pulled a pillow over his head.

"Now, now Artie! It's time to get up!" a voice chirped.

The Englishmen open one, emerald eye and saw the face of the American, his American.

"It too early love. Go back to bed…" he mumbled.

Alfred pursed his lips, "Dude, it's like, 10:30 am."

Well, if he wasn't awake a few moments ago, he was now. He sat up in an instant, clutching the bed sheets between his fingers.

"Bollocks! Why didn't you wake me up sooner you wanker!"

The taller blond shrugged, "You looked like you were having a nice dream."

Blush tinted Arthur's pale cheeks.

"You were watching me sleep…?"

Alfred chuckled and ran his fingers through his lover's hair.

"You're cute when you sleep. Don't make it sound dirtier than it has to be," he laughed.

Arthur let a small smile form as he swung his legs from the warmth of the covers to the floor on the side. Alfred stepped back.

"I'm going to go get a shower," the Brit paused, and turned his gaze to the American, "and you are not to follow me."

The blond held his hands up in surrender, "I won't, I won't."

The Englishmen let out a small 'good' before proceeding to the bathroom. When he stepped inside, he let the hot water soothe him. Today was…April 23…his birthday. He'd never thought much of it. It'd actually been awhile since he officially celebrated it. Sure, he'd have a few people who would remember, give him little tokens of joy and sweets, but he'd never had a party for it. He couldn't find a point. It made him think though…would Alfred remember? He had last year…and the year before that, but this year…was quite…busy, for lack of a better word.

"Two years sure goes by fast doesn't it?" Arthur murmured under the roar of the water.

When he was done, he dried off and changed clothes. Arthur donned his casual, comfortable wear. The Brit descended the stairs and was met with a rather sweet smell. He peered into the kitchen. Alfred had his back turned to him and appeared to be leaning over the stove doing something. Arthur walked behind him.

"Alfred what are you-" he didn't get to finish because he was silenced with a piece of fruit, a strawberry to be exact.

"Ah, ah, ah! Back into the living room! No peeking!" he commanded.

"But…"

"Let me finish!"

Reluctantly, the Englishmen returned to the living room and sat on the chair. For a few moments he sat idle, but soon that grew tiresome, so he opened one of his old books and began reading. A few minutes later, Alfred reappeared at the door, grinning as goofy as ever.

"Kay~! You can come back now!"

"About bloody time. Honestly lad, what were you so intent on not allowing me to see?"

"Come on and I'll show you!"

Arthur followed the American back into the kitchen and sat down at the table. The taller blond disappeared for a moment before returning with a plate. He sat it down in front of him. The Brit was quite surprised with what he saw.

His food was, quite literally, staring back at him. It was a stack of pancakes drizzled in sticky syrup with banana eyes and a strawberry nose and a blueberry mouth. Upon looking at it, Arthur couldn't help but begin to laugh.

"Oh, oh bollocks that is the strangest thing I've ever seen. What is this for?"

"Nothing. Just wanted you to start your day with a smile. You don't do that anymore."

The shorter blond felt his heart sink a bit. There he goes again, getting his hopes up for no reason. Like he thought earlier, he probably forgot.

"Something wrong Artie?"

"No, no…" he shifted, looking at him.

"Love, are you sure there's nothing…er…special about today?"

Alfred thought it over for a moment, but then shook his head, "Nope, it's just a regular old Saturday…right?"

"Ah…of course. Just asking."

"If you say so! Eat up!"

Arthur did as he was told. It was nice and sweet and lightened his mood a bit, but he couldn't help but feel…deserted. He honestly didn't know why he was disappointed though. It used to always be like this, though; it was probably since he was in a relationship now that he longed for the affection he'd missed for years.

"-And anyway, I've gotta go over to Mattie's house for awhile. You think you'll be cool alone?" Alfred's voice suddenly filled his ears, causing him to snap back into reality.

"Y-yes. I'll be all right. You have fun now."

"Sweet! I'll be home at around like, six o' clock, I love you~!" he said and kissed him on the forehead.

"I love you too. Drive safe…"

Alfred nodded and ran out, and Arthur watched him until the car was out of sight. His eyes fell and he sighed. The Brit returned to the chair and picked his book back and continued to scan the lines of the current page. He read, and read, and read, for hours on end. When he finished one, he picked up another. Before he finally grew tired, he had finished nearly five of them. His eyes fell to the clock; it was three o' clock now; at least three more hours. Arthur began to realize just how hungry he was, so he made himself a light lunch before heading upstairs. He reached under his bed and pulled out his laptop.

He checked his email, played a few online games, surfed around for a while, started to play around with his desktops and personas, but his patience soon ran thin.

Hours upon hours, Arthur waited. Six o' clock came, then seven, eight, and finally nine. In just a few more hours his birthday would be done, gone, another simple day of his life erased. His loneliness soon turned to anger. Just what did Alfred think he was doing? Six he said, but it was nine now. Arthur glanced to his dresser. He walked over and opened one of the drawers where a bottle was hidden carefully. What was it about the blasted drink that made him feel so, so much better? He popped it open and took one, long swig of it. It burned as it made it's way down his throat, but he didn't care. All he could think was how he was going to regret this in the morning.

"Happy Birthday to me~…"

~<3~

"Alfred, are you going to do it today or what?"

"I will! When I get back…"

"Lord, he's probably drinking himself silly because he thought you forgot. You know how sensitive he can be!"

"Jeez Mattie lay off!"

Matthew grunted disapprovingly at his brother's stubbornness.

"Alfred, you should go home, like, right now."

"I am!"

"You've been saying that for the last ten minutes! Do I have to tell you to get out?"

"I'm going!"

Alfred proceeded out the door and huffed angrily. He was totally going to do it today. Absolutely. He got into his car and sped off.

The drive was long, but he was still full of energy. Oh, there was that feeling again, but he had to be strong. He pulled into the driveway and parked. The American still felt the box inside his pocket, and he swallowed heavily before going inside.

"Arthur! Hey, Artie I'm home!" he called happily, but there was no answer.

"Artie…?"

There was still no response. Curious and a bit worried, he cautiously decided to go up the stairs. Their bedroom door was cracked and dark on the inside. He stepped carefully inside. The sudden smell of alcohol surprised him.

"Arthur…?"

"Just go away…" came a soft reply.

"Arthur! Hey! Where are you?"

Alfred walked closer to the bed to see Arthur lying there, curled up.

"Hey! Hey, what's wrong?"

"I said go away you insensitive wanker!" the Brit shouted, his voice cracking slightly.

"Why…wait…are you crying?"

"Go away!"

Alfred leaned down next to the bed where his face was parallel with his lover's. He whispered softly.

"Why are you crying?"

He was answered with an enraged, slap on the face.

"Because you forgot…you forgot…it's my birthday stupid!"

The American touched his cheek, and shook his head.

"No Arthur, I didn't. I never did."

Anger flashed in the Englishmen's green eyes.

"You didn't? Then why didn't you even say a simple, 'Happy Birthday' to me huh? Why?" he spat.

"I did remember, really," the blond replied in a calm, controlled tone.

"Oh did you now?"

"Yeah. And I can prove it too."

Alfred then reached into his pocket and pulled out the small little box. He held it gingerly in his hands.

"I have your gift, right here. I wanted to wait until the right moment to give it to you…" he smiled sweetly.

Suddenly, all of the other blond's rage seemed to melt. He looked at him, and down at his hands, and back again.

"I don't…"

The American shifted onto one knee, and his smile broadened.

"Now is as good as anytime I think, so…" he opened the box, "Arthur Kirkland, will you marry me?"

Arthur felt his heartbeat and his face heat up. A million things were going through his head. But he beamed, and nodded. He tackled him in a warm embrace, causing them both to fall backwards.

"Of course you bloody fool!"

"Ha ha~! That's totally awesome. Now are you sure you aren't to drunk to remember this?" Alfred teased.

"I'm not that stoned you git. Yes I'll remember."

"Let's just make sure shall we?"

The taller blond pulled the ring off out of the box and took the other's hand. He slid the ring onto his ring finger.

"There, now you're sure to remember."

Alfred pulled Arthur into another hug. He released him, and grinned. The American tilted his chin up, and pressed his lips against his new fiancee's, in a long, passionate kiss.