Us x Uk

Arthur's POV

It was pitch black when I opened my eyes. I had to give myself a few to minutes to adjust, and to figure out what was going on. I was tired and I felt slightly dazed, but then my eyes fixed in on four obnoxiously green digital numbers.


I groaned and closed my eyes again, curling up and burying my face into my pillow. Trust me to wake up at bloody midnight. I opened my eyes when I realised that my blanket was only covering me up to my waist and the cold night air felt even colder against my bare chest. Why on Earth did this country have such cold winters?

I turned around, away from those piercing numbers and tried to get comfortable in my new position, groping blindly for my blanket.

I was surprised—but most definitely did not squeak—when an arm snaked its way around my waist and pulled me in close. I found myself pulled up against another warm body—so warm…I shifted and snuggled closer into the warmth, not caring about my lack of blanket.

I glanced up at the other when he shifted slightly. Sleep was probably the only time I saw the loud, boisterous American so at peace and so naturally calm. And I loved that I was the only person who would ever see him so relaxed.

Alfred was smiling slightly. Whatever he was dreaming about he must be enjoying it. I smiled too as I reached up and brushed some hair out of his face. His hair was messy from moving about in his sleep, but somehow it always looked so neat. My hair was always a complete disaster, no matter what I did with it. Alfred always disagreed though.

Naaaah, Iggy, your hair's adorable!

I nearly giggled to myself but stopped at a smile. Alfred was a heavy sleeper most of the time but he had this nasty habit of waking up every time I got up to go somewhere, or if I laughed or said something. Alfred calls it his 'Hero instinct' or his 'Iggy senses'. Honestly, he reads too many of those bloody comic books.

But his childish behavior was something that I really loved about him. It wasn't the same behavior as when he was a child, but it was still childish … it's difficult to explain. I guess it's something only I'd really understand …

I shook my head, not wanting to start dwelling on the past. No, what happened in the past is long gone and it'll never happen again. I may have lost Alfred but I have him back now—my Alfred. And he'll always stay with me, because I love him, and he loves me. Just like he always says … And for once in my life, I'm not going to fight to believe him.

Because I want to be happy. For once in my life I want to allow myself to be happy. For once in this miserable life I've lead, I want to ignore all the voices telling me that he's lying, that no, no he'll leave again … because … all I really want is to be happy.

And the only time I've ever felt this happy … it's with you, Alfred … my Alfred … my Hero …

Alfred shifted again and wrapped his other arm around my waist, pulling me even closer. He was so warm, all the time. It was a different type of warm that blankets or jumpers or warm drinks offered. It was a more natural warmth, one that'll never go away. I don't know, once again it's hard to explain.


I glanced up at Alfred again when he muttered my nickname. Granted not one I was never very fond of but I've found that arguing is quite futile when it comes to an American who's set his mind to something.

"My Iggy…,"

I smiled again and leaned up, giving my American a quick, soft kiss. He smiled even more and I settled comfortably resting my head against his chest. I fell asleep to the sound of his breathing and the steady beating of his heart.