my feet are freezing

here you go, gumdrop:

“Why is he coming too?” Alfred demanded, tiny fists planted on his hips. He scowled up at Arthur who simply sighed and knelt down to the toddler’s level.

“Listen, Alfred. Matthew is apart of our family now.” The green-eyed man smiled at his colony and ruffled dark golden hair with one hand. “He’s your little brother. You should be more excited.”

“I don’t like him.” Alfred mumbled, cheeks puffed out in annoyance. “All he does is play with his stupid bear and refuse to play knights and dragons. He’s boring and stupid.”

Arthur sighed and placed a hand on Alfred’s shoulder. “He’s probably homesick. Play with him and get to know him. You two will be friends in no time.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Well, young man.” Arthur said coolly, regarding his colony with a small frown. “He is your brother now and you have to take care of him.”

Alfred pouted.

—

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idr what I wanted to do with this. but there was plans of Alfred being basically an ex-angel and Arthur being old as balls.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

*

Everything hurts. Matthew tries to breathe, to let his mind latch onto the simple action of filling his lungs with air and letting it back out, finding his attention locking onto the agony it causes instead. He whimpers, breathing going shallow as he stares up at the sky, at the strong colours of the sunset and the fading light.

He thinks he should try to get up, to crawl out of the ditch they dumped him in and onto the road where someone might find him, might help him and make the pain go away.

He manages to roll onto his side and pull himself a couple of feet before darkness begins to fog up his vision, body going limp as he passes out.

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2000th post! :D

***

It starts on a warm summer’s day, out on a field far away from everything, the warm breeze caressing their cheeks and making the grass around them sway back and forth, the movement lost on the two boys sitting in the midst of it.

They laugh, a light and clear sound that carries with the wind, catching the attention of a deer in the distance, it tensing as it listens before fleeing with a shake of its antlered head. They’ve been on the field, together, just the two of them, for so long that the sun has begun to set, turning the sky above into a brilliant display of pastels blending into one another; pink and orange and bright red trying to outshine the brightness in the boys’ eyes as they look at each other.

“This is for you,” Alfred says, holding up the crown he’s put together using the flowers around them, the petals blue and white and some a subdued pink.

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