Chapter Text
There had been a development in Alice & Alfreds friendship…. It started when they were both 14, and were playing in their shared garden as usual, fully preoccupied with disappearing to Wonderland…. But their hands had accidentally brushed against each other, and there was an abrupt jolt of electricity between them.
They had both swiftly turned to see what that shock was and they had ended up locking eyes with one another, and there was this newly found tension between them, that both of them had quickly moved past. They knew deep down that this was something much more than a surface level brief accidental romantic gesture, but neither of them wanted to process that at the moment, they just wanted to enjoy each other's company like they always did, though this curiosity did still linger over them no matter how much they tried to ignore it.
A few weeks later, and Alice’s mum, Mrs. Spencer had begun to have her suspicions about Alice’s friendship with Alice, which Alice thought was utter nonsense. Alice had been friends with Alfred for as long as she could remember, so how was this any different? Mrs. Spencer kept insisting that Alice needed to befriend some girls her age, since it was “unhealthy” for her to be so codependent on Alfred but, quite frankly, Alice did not care. She did EVERYTHING with Alfred, and things had worked out just fine for her, she saw no need to change her lifestyle, especially not in a way that would exclude Alfred.
Alice had assumed that her mother would stop this constant nagging after a few days, but Mrs. Spencer was quite persistent. After a few more days, Alice was getting sick of this, and decided she’d confide in Alfred about this recent development in her mum's behavior.
“I just don’t see what’s so different nowadays that she’s causing such a fuss over a boy and a girl being friends… we’ve been friends forever & we’ll stay friends forever.” Alice rambled as she stepped onto the tube line train.
Alfred being the voice of reason between the two of them thought about this predicament through her mum’s eyes, despite disagreeing with Mrs. Spencer.
“Well, she’s paranoid yes… but she’s just trying to protect you… you know how parents can be”
“Protect me from what? From you? You would never hurt me and she knows that.”
Alfred hesitated. He didn’t necessarily want to make things awkward, but there was something unspoken between them—something he couldn’t fully put into words.
“I just—” He sighed, choosing his words carefully, “I think she’s worried that… we’re getting older. That things might change.”
Alice scoffed, folding her arms.
“Nothing’s changing. We’re the same as we’ve always been.”
“Are we?” The words were soft, hesitant, but they hung in the air between them.
Alice opened her mouth to respond, but the train jolted, and she stumbled slightly. Instinctively, Alfred reached out, catching her wrist. Their eyes met, and for just a second, neither of them moved. Alice was the first to break the silence.
“See? You’re still looking out for me, same as always.”
Alfred let go, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.
“Yeah… same as always.”
But the way he said it made Alice pause.
After Alfred says “Yeah… same as always.”, Alice watches him closely, her brow furrowing. There was something off about the way he said that.
“You’re acting strange.” Alice accused him in a playful, yet still very genuine way.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re doing that thing where you act like something’s fine when it’s clearly not.”
Alfred looked down at the scuffed toes of his shoes, as if the floor of the train suddenly held the most interesting secret in the world.
“What? What is it?” Alice pleaded with him. When he clammed up like this, it was the hardest thing in the world to try & get him to talk
“Nothing, Alice. Just forget it.”
But Alice didn’t want to forget it. She hated when Alfred kept things to himself, especially when it was so obvious that something was on his mind.
“Alfie… come on. Tell me…. You know I won’t stop asking until you tell me…”
His jaw tensed at the sound of his nickname, the one she’d called him since they were little. It made his heart squeeze in a way he didn’t quite understand. Finally, he sighed.
“I just think… Maybe your mum has a point.”
“Oh, you’re on her side now?” Alice blinked, looking almost offended.
“No—Alice, that’s not what I mean.” Alfred immediately shook his head, not wanting Alice to misconstrue the point he was attempting to make
“Well, it sure sounds like it.” She crossed her arms, unimpressed.
“I’m always on your side..... You know that. But… maybe she just sees something we don’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Alfred hesitated, then shook his head with a small, almost nervous laugh.
“Nothing—forget I said anything.”
Alice narrowed her eyes, not letting him off the hook so easily.
“No, tell me.”
Alfred swallowed, glancing away. He knew that he had to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t make this whole situation anymore awkward
“Just… we’re not kids anymore, Alice.”
Alice opened her mouth to argue—but stopped. Because for the first time, she wasn’t so sure that was true. There had been a bizarre energy around them recently, but they had never addressed it or even hinted at addressing it until now. Instead of responding immediately, Alice doesn’t argue. Instead, she just stares at him, searching for… what? A joke? A lie? A reassurance that things haven’t changed? Alice just stares at him, her expression unreadable.
Alfred doesn’t break eye contact, but he does shift uncomfortably, which causes Alice to break the tense silence with a question.
“You think things are changing?”
Alfred didn’t answer right away. His gaze flickered downward, like he was weighing his words carefully, before he finally admitted, delicately, almost like he didn’t want to say it out loud—
“I think they already have.”
Alice’s breath caught in her throat for a brief moment. She didn’t know why. Maybe because some part of her had been waiting for him to say it first. Maybe, just maybe, she was still in denial about everything & needed her voice of reason to bring her back to reality.
She glanced down at her hands, at the empty space between them. She wasn’t even sure what possessed her, but before she could second-guess herself, her fingers brushed against the fabric of his sleeve….. A tiny, almost absentminded fidget. A nothing gesture, and yet it was somehow a huge gesture in terms of meaning.
Alfred didn’t move away. Didn’t tease her for it, either. Instead, after a beat, he shifted just the slightest bit closer. Not enough to mean anything. Not enough to be called anything. But enough to make Alice’s heart stutter in her chest. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them acknowledged it….. But neither of them moved apart, either.