A Million Voices [UsUk]

Still conscious

It was 7 PM. Arthur cleaned up the kitchen hours ago, and was now laying down curled up on the couch, hugging a pillow and slowly breathing. He felt very lonely and had to keep himself from another breakdown - since he felt it was coming again.
The feeling of having literal clouds around and not being able to properly breathe. Screaming inside, and he tried his best not to make it actual screaming. Instead, he tried to take slow breaths, calm himself with humming soft melodies. It usually didn't work, but he was at least trying and that was a big deal for him.
The poor Brit didn't get sleep in days. Exhaustion laid on top of him like a weight on his back.
But what was he able to do?
Nothing.
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Meanwhile, Alfred was stressing out. He was at his small apartment which stood not too far away from Arthur's.
"How could I be so stupid?!" He shouted at himself and threw away the cheeseburger wrapping he found on the table. Who knows how long it was there.
He had no idea how to think of the situation he had gotten himself in.
"I... I slept with my best friend." Alfred muttered in disbelief.
He had to go to Arthur and apologise right away!
Grabbing his phone from the table at lightning speed, he dialed the Brit's number and let it ring.
A minute.
No response.
So he called again.
Two minutes.
No response.
He stood there in silence by himself thinking of why Arthur wasn't responding.

Little did he know, that Arthur wasn't able to reach his phone. No, he wasn't breaking dishes. He wasn't on the floor, bleeding and crying.
He was still peacefully laying down on the couch, taking the energy from his entire existence to calm down.

Alfred ran out of the house in a matter of minutes, and ran in the direction of Arthur's house.
'This is too much now. This week, he has been acting too strangely. Running out of the office ten times at least, and not responding to my calls. I have a feeling something is very wrong.' He thought to himself as he walked.
Alfred, or anyone around Arthur, never knew about that dark and depressing part of his life. They always assumed that whenever he ran out or something similar, he just needed some fresh air and vent. Everyone needs that sometimes, right?

As he approached the blond Englishman's house, he knocked three times, very loudly, waiting and hoping deeply that Arthur would open the door for him.
"Arthur?" He said a bit louder. 'Maybe he wasn't home.' Alfred thought to himself.
Ah, but he had the key to the house. A few months ago, when the two of them started dating, they exchanged keys to each other's places of living.
The American quickly dug through his pockets for the key to Arthur's place.
"Found it!" He victoriously grinned and unlocked the door.

Arthur was snapped out of his thoughts and his eyes widened as he realized that Alfred entered the apartment.
'He cannot see me like this!' He thought to himself and closed his eyes on the couch quickly, pretending to be asleep, and for that being the reason of not opening the door when the American first knocked.
"Arthur? Are you okay?" He said loudly and then stopped at the entrance to the living room when he saw him 'sleeping' on the couch.
"...Oh." He muttered and mentally slapped himself. Arthur was just sleeping. He felt a rush of relaxation flood through his body.
"You're sleeping.''
Arthur shifted slightly on the couch and gave a slight groan towards his boyfriend.
"What does it look like, bloody git?" He said with venomous sarcasm and rolled his eyes once he had opened them.
Now he had to hold it in to the point of gritted teeth and hands folded into fists. He fought back with so much difficulty, but he cannot let himself being broken down in front of Alfred.
That would be the bottom.
Alfred chuckled slightly at the usual sassy comment from the Brit and blushed.
''Sorry. I was worried about you", he said with a warm, inviting smile and sat on the end of the couch, next to Arthur.
"It's okay. I'm just tired", Arthur replied and blinked a few times since he felt tears arise. He tried to convince himself that it was just from how tired he was, but he knew very well that was just one big lie.
"We should get ya' to bed." Alfred suggested and held his hand out, taking Arthur's hand. Arthur flinched and pulled his hand back as a natural instinct. In all truth, he had never done that to Alfred before. Which is why Alfred was left with his eyes widened at the move of the Brit.
"Hey, why'd you do that?" He asked with a frown but he only got a shrug as a response.
"Guess I'm just not in the mood for romantic shit." He replied and hugged the pillow. Alfred nodded but his frown stayed on. He had never before gotten that response from Arthur.
"If you want, I'll make you camomile tea with lemon, your favourite..."
"I don't want tea."
Okay, that was it. Arthur refusing tea? Alfred never thought he'd hear those words come from the Brit's mouth.
"Arthur, is something wrong?" He asked gently.
Arthur felt his stomach turn. God, how he hated that question! It would just make his case worse!
"No. I'm fine. I need some sleep, okay?" He replied quietly through gritted teeth.
"...Very well." Alfred said with a sigh, but didn't move at all. He felt like something really was wrong. He was staying here and nothing could change his mind.
He decided to tell Arthur what happened, but tomorrow.
Tomorrow.