🌹Emerald Rose🌹

Chapter Nine

Arthur without a left eye took some getting used to.

During the first week, Alfred couldn't help but stare. He was so used to two green eyes, ever-dangerous and always calculating his next move. Now the other eye was covered in bandages, never to be seen again. Alfred wondered what it would be like to have Arthur staring at him with an eye patch.

Despite his stubborn as a bull attitude, Arthur was restricted to a bed for at least a week or two. He wasn't even supposed to be moving his head, but he didn't seem to care about that part. Every time Alfred looked in concern, Arthur would only avert his gaze and scoff it off, saying he had felt much worse. Sometimes he would mumble his English swears under his breath whenever he seemed to move or feel pain. Perhaps he did, but Allistor had told him one night that a shot to the eye was actually a lot worse than what he remembered of Arthur's injuries.

Alfred spent a lot of his time with Arthur the following weeks.

His broken fingers and therefore almost useless hand excused him from anyone who wondered why he wasn't on work. It actually made him a little queasy to look at his hands, and envision the gory mess that lay beneath. Talking to Arthur was a nice way to keep his mind off of it all, despite looking at him and his condition caused some sickness as well.

Alfred still needed some getting used to his new "relationship" with Arthur. His butterflies were undeniably happy that they now had the object of their admiration, but the fact that that person loved him back was still new to him. He wasn't expecting such a person to love him back.

Arthur was definitely an interesting person, even now. He refused to show Alfred any affection unless they were alone in the room, and yet when they were, he never hesitated. Even the perverted comments that made Alfred's stomach do acrobatics. He couldn't help but blush and fluster every time.

It was past noon, and Alfred was going to go see Arthur again. Yes, that was all he had been doing for the past few weeks. Now that he knew, now that he had every excuse to be near Arthur, he could no longer resist temptation. There was also always that gnawing sensation in the back of his head that demanded he always check if Arthur was still okay. He now felt as if his day was incomplete if he didn't see Arthur, or hear his snarky comments.

He didn't bother knocking, he walked into Arthur's cabin uninvited. After all, the Brit was still confined to his bed. He walked with a bit of a skip to his step, all too happy to see Arthur again. There was that combination of twisting anxiety and joy, which made his heart want to jump out the window.

He did, however, knock on the door leading to the bedroom. His heart bounced in anticipation, and he was sure he would never get used to this new feeling of being able to see Arthur whenever he wanted now.

"Enter." Came Arthur's reply.

 

Alfred opened the door. Arthur was up, having sat up. The bandages were still there, covering the left side of his face. On his laps beneath the soft silken covers was a wooden box. Alfred had to do a double take before he realized there were eyes in the box's contents.

"Wait, w-what's in there?" Alfred blurted out, coming closer. Arthur looked up, and it made Alfred's heart flutter to see those lips quirk into the ghost of a smile.