The Lone Star Hero

Wheres my coffee?

   The Brit didn't stay there for long. He soon left after the remorse flooded him. It left his insides in turmoil and his brain a mangled mess. It was honestly a horrid thought. A slap in the face. A kick in the-you get what he means. It was a realization. An awakening. Alfred was a caring person. Alfred actually used his brain. He wasn't an obnoxious prick, but a, in reality, nostalgic, lovable idiot. He was housing them. He went to the store even though he was upset. Alfred did a lot of things, but it didn't matter. Arthur couldn't just change how he acted over night. And this didn't prove anything! He argued in his head. No no, this proved nothing! Only the fact that he was materialistic and only cared about the quality of the gifts! Of course. This was what the stubborn Brit convinced himself. He walked out of the room and breathed out a sigh. After a few minutes of fidgeting, he grabbed a blanket and rushed back inside, putting it on the American before awkwardly patting his head and leaving. Got that was embarrassing! But Alfred was his brother, right? He could do that and no one could question him!

  Arthur's face flared with color as he sat down and sipped water from his teacup. He kept his back straight and looked down at his book. Francis came to taunt him but before he could get a word out Arthur flipped out before scurrying off to his room in embarrassment. Ah, yes, the Brit was rather trigger happy at all times. Though, he wasn't that trigger happy. Francis began to ponder what caused his cute Brit to act so jumpy, but decided to leave it be as he went to make a sandwich. He shuddered with disgust as he looked at the office, frowning before going to the kitchen. What was taking him so long!

  An hour passed and Alfred woke up. Huh, he didn't remember falling asleep. Oh well. Alfred continued to write from where he left off. He didn't remember having a...blanket? When did that get there? Did someone place it on him? Did-did someone actually care-no. No. He couldn't think like that now. He didn't need to get his hopes up. Alfred sighed softly as he looked down at his paper, beginning to write again. Another hour passed...and then a second dragged on...then a third...This was so utterly boring but Alfred had to get it done. He still had a shit ton left! The nations were gathered in the living room. Most were lounging on his chair, reading, or quietly talking. Francis was teasing Arthur, who was hissing and hitting him embarrassedly. It was rather quiet other than that. It was peaceful too, until Italy spoke up "Did anyone see Alfred come eat lunch? Or breakfast?" Italy spoke up so everyone could hear. The nation was rather spacey and dazed most times, but he could be rather perceptive if he so desired. This caused chatter among the small group.

  Japan spoke up next "hai...you have a point Ita-Chan. Did he eat dinner last night..? And when was the last time we saw him eat at the meetings..?" He soon added. Rambling and gossip filled the room as Alfred soon stumbled out. He looked white as a ghost as he moved to the kitchen. He kept pressing on the coffee machine as if that would work. He really needed coffee. Alfred lived off of coffee. He was basically addicted to the brown drink. It kept him alive. It was zero calories and it was as bitter as he was. Alfred sniffled and hugged his machine,

    "Come back to me....please...I need yoouuuu..." he pleaded weakly as he hiccuped. Alfred rubbed his eyes and sniffled sadly. He looked so...so stupid. Alfred rubbed his eyes and sighed loudly before pulling out his phone. He had someone Uber a cup of coffee to his house. That's how desperate he was. He walked to the door, took the coffee, paid the man and then left to the office again. He kept his eyes closed as he took a long drink of the caffeine grilled beverage. It felt good to finally have something fueling him other then the American's need to quite literally work himself to death. It was honestly what kept him going. The others watched this and frowned. He hadn't gotten anything to eat? That was...unusual. Francis stood with a sigh, forcing a smile,

   "I'm sure America simply forgot in the wake of his failing coffee machine." He chuckled "I'll make him a  sandwich." Francis smiles, but has an obvious forcefulness to it. He was...well, he was worried. Alfred always ate, right? Of course! His boy always ate, so he made a quick and easy sandwich before walking towards his office. Alfred had gotten done a majority of his papers as his phone went off with annoying pings. His president was ranting to him about how these people were trying to impeach him. Oh well. Alfred sighed and shut it off before focusing on the large mass of papers next to him. He had finished the bitter drink already and opted to go get some of the vodka he brought himself next when Francis walked in.

   Alfred looked up at him with a weary smile "heya francy." He softly said and stretched with a yawn "what brings you to this part of town?" Alfred stared at him. His bags could hold groceries. His hole demeanor was exhausted, that in itself was a given, but he was still working. Francis's lip quirked upward awkwardly.

  "Bonjour America," he began as he walked over with the sandwich "I noticed you didn't grab anything to eat yet, so I brought you something. You need some fuel if you'll be working..." he paused "is there anything I can help with..? You seem to have so much left..." he gestured to a large pile. Alfred rose a brow before smiling and shaking his head. He had to remind himself that Francis was just doing this so that the power would come back. Alfred stared at him for a moment before finally responding.

  "No no," he shook his hands "you don't have to. That's what's done anyway. I'll be done before midnight, if I'm lucky." He waved his hand dismissively and gave a forced smile. The was such a foreign thing...Alfred didn't like it. He felt vulnerable and bare. It was as if he were naked in a zoo with others watching him. He just...didn't like it. Francis stares at the boy for a few moments before sighing and nodding,

   "Okay okay...just try to come down for dinner. We're ordering out." The Frenchman said before leaving the room. Alfred stared at the sandwich for a few moments before looking away and working again. His duet didn't allow for food like this. It didn't allow for any food. Alfred sighed as he looked down at his plate for a moment before placing it on the floor. He walked out and got his cat before placing hero in front of it and closing the oak door "go ahead hero." He went back to working "you can eat it. I won't." Alfred bluntly told his kitty. Hero mewed sadly but slowly began to eat it. His blue eyes were filled with pain. He wished Alfred knew how thin he actually was...