|To The Stars
Author: AngolMoaChan PM
Because in his eyes he saw hope; in those blue, blue eyes he saw a glimmer of change for the future. Maybe the git wasn’t so bad after all. US/UKRated: Fiction K+ - English - America & England/Britain - Words: 389 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 12 - Published: 09-30-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5411959
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
To the Stars
"Life, for ever dying to be born afresh, for ever young and eager, will presently stand upon this earth as upon a footstool, and stretch out its realm amidst the stars."
He found Alfred sitting outside on his porch, midnight black coffee in hand and eyes trained on the sky. The date was July 19th, 1969—the air around him stank of Vietnam and of communist fear, yet everything seemed completely calm.
Arthur stood at the doorway out to the porch, one hand resting on the wood frame, his foot raised and poised to take a step. He'd been here countless times before, sipping tea in the ancient rocking chair while Alfred babbled about summer and Coke and all he could think about was damn, he wished the stupid American would reach over and grab his hand or something. But something was different today; something was different with the American.
Arthur was one of the select few who knew. Tomorrow, NASA would be launching their Apollo 11 mission.
And amongst all of the anger and the violence and the fear that wrapped the world in its ice cold grip, Alfred managed to find that spark of hope. Funny how good he was at that. The one person who had taken any hope that Arthur had and crushed it under a rainy sky and an ancient rifle was now the one who made his stomach flip with words like space travel.
He looked so pensive now, just sitting there, staring at the sky above, and occasionally sipping from the coffee. A small smile crossed Arthur's face. In those eyes, he saw hope--in those blue blue eyes he saw a glimmer of change for the future. Maybe that git wasn't so bad after all.
Arthur took the step on the creaky floorboard. One small step for him, one giant leap for their relationship. Not as America and England, but as Alfred and Arthur, a wanker with a penchant for pissing him off, and an old man with thick eyebrows and a sour expression.
And frankly, Arthur wouldn't have him any other way.
Author's note: Prompt given to me by a friend—the prompt was "astronaut". Getting started on requests now, this one was first in my queue. :D