?

Log in

No account? Create an account
 
 
07 December 2016 @ 03:19 am
The feeling that I get.  
Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers.
Title: The feeling that I get.
Claim: Northern Ireland, England.
Summary: Maybe "home" wasn't a foreign word for Arthur anymore.
Prompt: #13 But instead of calling out, I would rather show you with love.
Notes: Human AU. This is SO very AU I won't justify myself anymore. Probably I should start the "Liam/Arthur" at some point, tbh. Arthur is a College student and Liam is a djinn.  Also, angst, because this is me we're talking about.


The wind blowing outside is cold, rattling against the windows’ pane of the hallways. Arthur’s breathe onto his hands, shivering despite the heat and the human tide crouching together inside the suddenly small library. Finals always have that effect; desperate students scraping to salvage the semester, pulling all-nighters with friends, going to pubs to fill themselves with appetisers and cool drinks, quizzing each other.

Arthur snorts, shoving his hands deep inside his sweater’s pockets. Studying is not a group effort. He has never understood why some people needed help from others. It’s so pitiable.

Groups of students pass him by, laughing or moaning about a failing grade. They pass by him as if he wasn’t there, or as if he didn’t matter. Arthur passes them by with the same indifference.

Placing a handful of books on the front desk, Arthur lets out a small sigh of relief. The clock on the wall behind the desk read ‘8:30’ and that was the earliest Arthur has left the library in three weeks. His mind wanders back to the night before, when he arrived home after it was dark and the streets were almost deserted, and his fingers were numb inside his pockets.

Liam had been waiting for him.

The woman at the front desk eyes him for second before returning her eyes to the screen of her computer. Her hand reaches out, silently asking Arthur for his library card. Arthur hands it to her, brushing his gloved fingers with her naked ones. He shivers. He has always hated when people touched him.

“The due date is in three days after today,” she says as she hands back the card. She marks the books and packs them for him.

Transaction done, Arthur stashed them on his backpack before rushing outside, where the wind makes his eyes sting and his nose hurt. On his way back he stops by a bakery just when they were turning up the ‘open’ sign to close.

He makes it up a quarter past nine with two trays of takeaway and a bag with a slice of apple pie and a batch of cookies. The house is warm and it’s almost suffocating, Arthur thinks, after spending so long outside with the bitter cold biting his cheeks and making his eyes tear up. He left his shoes on the entrance before sliding in his house shoes, and then, the words that he never thought would leave his chest come as if they had been waiting his entire life to be let out, and his chest hurts and he is shocked.

“I’m home!”

For a moment he is too stunned to react, too paralysed to think straight and his heart skips a beat when the silence stretches a moment too long, making him feel like the naïve child that passed out waiting for his parents to show up (or at least call) for his birthday. He feels stupid and the heat rushing up his face and neck has nothing to do with the cold.

He’s ashamed.

“Master!” the disembodied voice comes from the end of the corridor, and soon footsteps rush along, running all the way to the main corridor where Arthur is still standing still, burning face hiding a myriad of emotions he isn’t sure how to deal with. “You’re early!” the voice sounds happy, like an overexcited puppy, but the figure doesn’t approach him, standing a good twenty inches away from him.

Liam is happy to see him. Liam has been waiting for him to come back home.

“I thought you would stay out late like yesterday, so I didn’t prepare dinner. I’ll start it right away,” Liam tells him, not moving a single inch back, and his dark green eyes take in every single detail. Arthur knows he is a sight when Liam frowns. “Master, is everything okay?” the question, soft, doesn’t hide the threat carefully placed were Arthur to say something happened.

When Liam is happy Arthur can forget the pile of bodies hiding in their closet from the early days of their relationship, when he thought he would be happier if certain people disappeared. Arthur had wished them punished and had been careless, leaving Liam enough room to punish those who had tormented Arthur as he saw fit.

Liam had called it justice, had looked confused, almost saddened when Arthur shouted at him instead of showing him gratitude and praise. Arthur had been terrified when he found out the story on the news, pictures of disembowelled bodies searing themselves in his brain.

Arthur hasn’t been reckless with his wishes anymore. He is specific and Liam, whether he likes or not, sticks to his every word.

“Yes,” Arthur says. It’s true. “I bought food for us,” pointing at his side, where two brown bags lay perfectly still, Arthur takes another breath, trying to stay calm. He’s home and someone is waiting for him. It shouldn’t be a big deal. “I’ll get changed and then we can eat together,”

Liam lets his eyes linger on him a moment that stretches enough to make Arthur squirm, then the redhead smiles with his entire body and is as if the summer had arrived earlier. Liam is always warm and Arthur misses that warm when he has to go out, he misses the presence that is always looming over his shoulder, offering advice or background narration.

“Master, you bought apple pie!” Liam screeches happily in his ear. “You do have your moments!”

Arthur snorts and pushes the taller man away from him, making it to his room on the other side of the flat. There is a smile on his lips when he closes the door and his coat comes off. The smile stays there as he fishes for his indoors clothes, warm and comfortable, and smelling of old bonfires and woods, and rainy forests of a distant childhood –smelling of Liam.

Liam has been waiting for him every night and, maybe, Arthur’s fat finally resembles a home.
 
 
My feelings: tiredtired