I'm Not Okay [UsUk]

Love

"I'm home", he announced, stepping into the living room where his father was residing. But instead of finding him watching television as usual, he was typing something on their almost eight year old laptop. That didn't happen too often. But, Alfred didn't care. As long as the man had a distraction, he would be fine.
Matthew was probably in his room for quite some time, since he got home from school much earlier. Less classes, and he didn't spend time after school with his friends.

"Had fun after school?" His father sarcastically asked, the tone of voice making Alfred slightly shudder.

I had the time of my life, thank you very much.

He didn't respond, but just dropped his backpack next to the dining table and headed towards the kitchen, thinking of getting something to eat since he hadn't actually eaten anything except a bit of bread at lunchbreak, and the day before he barely had anything besides a bowl of soup and a sandwich while their father was outside in the evening.

"Who were you with?" The man asked another question, but Alfred tried his best to stay calm.

"Arthur," he trutfhully answered, finding a pre-made sandwich on the kitchen counter. He could have sworn Matthew left it there for him.

"What did you do?" After the third question asked, Alfred couldn't help but roll his eyes. What was this, a goddamn police investigation? He was sixteen years old, he had all the rights to stay with his friends after school a little bit, especially since he didn't do anything innappropriate or bad like some teenagers in the school did.

"Uh, we played a song together." Fuck. Wrong answer, wrong answer. I shouldn't have brought anything musical into this.

"Really now?" Alfred could hear his father stop the typing, and he bit his lip, silently cursing under his breath at himself for mentioning music. "So you were doing music with a friend instead of getting home on time and doing your work like you should have done?"

"Yeah."

I'm actually surprised that he didn't burst out on me already.

"What do I have to do to get you in order?!"

And, there it is.

Alfred dropped his food on the kitchen counter, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes on a short moment. "I'm sorry, I just thought it would be fun--"

"Fun? You don't need anything fun, because that needs to be deserved! You don't do anything, how many fucking times do I need to tell you that before you realize it? If you plan on acting like this the whole year, then I don't want to see you in this house anymore!" His father stood up, leaving the laptop on the dining table. "So you choose. Maybe you should try living on the streets to see how it will feel after you finish your music school!" With venom in his voice, and flashing rage in his eyes, he advanced towards Alfred, who took a couple of steps back and frowned at the last words that were thrown at him.

"Well, maybe I will! At least nobody will shout at me for being a failure on the streets, will they?" Alfred yelled back, losing his dear patience at last.

"You are a failure! You're worthless, just look at yourself! You don't do shit around the house, all you do is lay in your bed and pretend you're some kind of depressed piece of shit who can't do anything! You just don't want to do anything! Just dare ask me if you can go out with your friends tomorrow or what not. I promise, the answer will fucking hurt!" The father kept throwing the insults at Alfred, the boy trying to ignore them but every word remained as a scar over his hear, making him believe that it's true.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being born, for breathing and taking away years of your precious time-"

"Enough is enough!"

Alfred felt a sharp, quick sting of pain run through his body, and suddenly his back was against the wall. He hissed from the discomfort, eyes pierced to his father's furious ones. Truth be told, he didn't even blame his father for this one. He went too far with his words, it was only to be expected... Now he was being held by his shoulders against the white kitchen wall, and it certainly didn't feel good.

"And learn how to behave! I don't want to hear another word from you!"

"I'm sorry--"

"Not a single word!"

This time, the pain struck the boy right in the face, and if he weren't backed against a firm surface, he would most definitely fall. His father took him by the left arm and pushed him away, with a movement which clearly said 'go away, I don't want to see you'.

Alfred shortly regained breath, and let out a shivery exhale as he reached his room at last, hearing a loud thud behind himself, realizing his father threw the backpack towards him in an angry manner. He picked up the item from the floor and opened the room door, finding his younger brother at the desk, not moving his look from the notebooks and paper he was writing and scribbling on.

"Hey, Matt", he greeted the younger and dropped tiredly on his bed. Surprisingly even to him, he didn't cry. His breathing was still a bit uneven, body still tense and face still in stingy pain, but he didn't shed a single tear. All he tried to focus on was the thought of Arthur being so close to him, and the coldness of his father's words was soon replaced by the warmth of a simple 'I love you'.

"I heard everything." Those three words were the only thing Matthew said, throwing a glance towards his tired older brother.

"It really doesn't matter. Nothing can take today away from me, not even him." Alfred chuckled slightly, turning on the bed so he could face Matthew, who now dropped all his work just to talk to his brother. They both sat themselves comfortably on Alfred's bed, and the younger American was glad to listen to the other's stories.

"I hope you don't believe anything he's saying to you, though."

I can't help but believe most of it. I blame myself for everything, anyway.

"Let's just switch the topic. I want to tell you what happened with Arthur after school today." Alfred waved his hand in a way to dismiss Matthew's words and begin a new conversational topic.

"Oh, what happened?" Matthew smirked, excitedly looking at him.

"Well, uh, we played two songs together, and that was really nice. But then we both got up, all happy and ready to leave, and he..."

"He...?" The younger boy was impatent for the answer.

"He kissed me."

- - -

A/N

Ayy, have another chapter! I have some schoolwork to do so I'm not sure whether I'll be able to write another one today, but considering I usually do a few chapters in a week, and now I'm doing a few in the same day, I guess that's alright.

Thank you for reading!