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Absolute
The boy he raised from the beginning, whom he thought of as so naive, pure and perfect… stood tall as his equal — no, his (the world’s) superpower. Imposing, manipulative, cruel and with immeasurable power. Just like the previous global empire. England expected to feel resentment, hatred, perhaps envy. But the reality was far more terrifying: to realize he not only felt pride in his very favorite (his creation?) but that his dear America would always have his adoration, no matter what.
Arrival
He was late again. Sometimes Arthur would wonder why he always waited for Alfred, even though the git would take as long as an hour to get to the assigned location of their date (which Arthur shared multiple times during the week). But when the American would finally come, running and out of breath after forgetting about the hour again, and smile so beautifully, he knew why he always waited.
Away
With so many travels, one would think they were used to being apart. But that was never the case. Whenever Alfred felt lonely, he would see their most recent photos together and send loving messages to Arthur every ten minutes or so. He stopped trying to call after he had woken Arthur up in the middle of the night for the hundredth time, and so the American decided to use messages and emails more often than not. He expected Arthur would be angry again, with that never-ending barrage of messages. But Arthur had actually called and thanked him for the company in the softest voice Alfred had ever heard. As frustrating and lonely as traveling could be, it also had a silver lining.
Basic
“Why must you feel the need to reuse the most common words in my language and transform them into your silly little trends and so-called ‘memes’?” England sighed into the phone, searching for the meaning of ‘basic’ in Urban Dictionary, while America guffawed so loudly even the fairies heard.
Brother
When America met England's older brothers, he finally knew why his ex-caretaker insisted on (attempting to) be a kind brotherly figure for so many centuries: because he never had one. The problem was that America was not England’s little brother. And he would never be.
Captivating
Whenever he is asked about his favorite star, the one who could truly be called ‘America’s sweetheart’, America picks a new one (always following who’s the most popular in the current era and he can actually stand, personality-wise). His real answer, though, will forever remain a secret. Those captivating eyes, prettier than any of the many emeralds he owns, stole his heart centuries ago, back when he didn’t understand the concept of adoration or love.
Crush
“Lord Kirkland, when I grow up, let’s marry!” The prince of Spades, currently ten years old, had practically a routine by now. He would loudly declare his love and get down on one knee, as dramatic as he was sincere.
The youngest of the Kirkland clan always had the same answer, a perfectly polite and well meaning ‘no, but thank you very much, your Majesty’. He adored Alfred, but the boy was becoming difficult with this little play of his.
The prince, however, swore Arthur would be his queen and that was final. Apparently, it seemed Alfred had prophetic powers but only half so. The mark of spades did indeed appear in Arthur when he became of age, at 21 years. He was, from that day forward, the queen.
But he was King Edward’s queen – Alfred’s very own father.
Demure
For anyone who didn’t know Alfred well enough, the idea that the obnoxious American was shy was simply inconceivable (the shy one was his oft-forgotten brother, that was the consensus). Arthur, however, knew that wasn’t the case. Alfred would blurt nonsense most of the time and get lost on his idiotic plans, but the truth was that he could be very shy indeed. Except that such shyness turned into aggressive and defensive behavior. How Arthur wished Alfred could learn from Matthew… but then again, he was guilty of the same sin.
Extreme
They could never be normal about each other. It was either utter adoration and being together 24/7, or disdain and a desperate need for space (that sometimes lasted decades, and centuries once, long ago).
Flashback
"You were so big." Those words pierced his heart to this day. He couldn't forget the hurt look England had on his face while he cried in such a broken way that it always came back to haunt him. Even though he was older, independent, and so powerful that no one else could stop him, the memory of that day still made him feel as powerless and small as when he was back then.
Friendship
Arthur didn't need friends. At least that's what he told himself. People of his age were utterly annoying and never capable of maintaining an intelligent conversation, much less interested him. Some he truly wished he had never met. That’d also been the case with an obnoxious American, one of his most annoying classmates. Arthur never cared much for Jones, who seemed to be kind to everyone, and just as fake. It was only when the American defended him, swearing up and down that the school president would never steal the student body’s money, that Arthur was, honest to God, gobsmacked.
In the end, the incident was solved, and his honor was upheld. His pride couldn’t let him just ignore the American after all that. Jones surprised him once more when he denied any compensation, "Because you're my friend, Artie!" And from that day on, he truly became Alfred's best friend. And eventually more.
Glamorous
“Why are you here…” England couldn’t even focus on his words as he saw his (very unexpected) lover on this side of the Atlantic, today of all days. “…instead of the Oscars?”, also known as one of America’s favorite days.
Not even bothering to scrub his shoes in the entrance’s rug — was that mud in those soles? And England had just cleaned — or was cleaning his wet glasses, America just waltzed in, as if he were in his own house.
“I have more fun watching it with you! Your comments are the best. And, like they say, if Rome won’t come to Romans…” America winks mischievously.
“That’s the completely wrong expression, dolt.” England forces himself to sound tired and gives a (at least in this) honest sigh. Secretly, he’s elated.
“Won’t you miss being surrounded by all those beauties?” He asks, and this one is a fully honest inquiry — not that he would ever admit it.
“The prettiest one is right here, so nah.” And maybe it’s how naturally it rolls off America’s tongue, but it makes England’s heart skip many beats. That little traitor.
Glasses
Kissing a partner with glasses takes a little practice. When both of them wear glasses, it takes quite a bit more practice. Enough clinking lenses and a one-time, very unfortunate accident leading to broken glasses beyond repair made Alfred and Alice quite the experts. Her glasses were more often victims of their little escapades, thanks to his uncontrolled strength — something they are also working on for his upcoming superhero duties.
While Alice always must complain, more for the sake of it than anything else, Alfred always more than makes up for it with the most wonderful kisses. And as foggy as the lenses may get, they both like to use it during sex. Neither wants to waste a single second, a single expression of ecstasy. Each is committing to memory everything they can. And if a pair of lenses gets ruined, well, they decide to use old backup glasses for the fun part. Alice is quite experienced in handling hero equipment after all.
Happiness
They were doing such a menial task. Watching movies, that is. Not that the Brit could complain without a bit of hypocrisy; as a former delinquent, he had engaged in worse activities. It truly surprised him that he would even date a nerd like Alfred, whom he so hated upon their first meeting. The bright American who always smiled like a fool was an annoyance Arthur would much rather be free of. But Alfred continued invading his personal space (uninvited) and he continued growing close to Arthur, despite the Brit's protests.
He never understood why Alfred liked him, an angry and cynical delinquent with a foul personality and even fouler mood. Even when he was younger and a surprisingly uptight student — even though Alfred claims he still is just as uptight — no one ever liked, much less cared about him. Why would anyone like him? He knew why he liked Alfred; he was everything to him. Those thoughts always worsened his mood, and there was already a frown on his face. But as Alfred snuggled closer to him, Arthur let out a smile and, for once in his life, he was untroubled and happy.
Hellish
"You know, America, I am pretty sure we both have demon sides."
As a response, the younger nation snorted and asked playfully how they would be.
"It’s not ‘would’, silly, I’ve seen them.” He never lets up on an opportunity to correct his ex-colony. “Mine is a sadistic redhead – kind of like my older brother – while yours is a cold and calculating dick with black hair. Oh, and they have the most fun trying to make the other nations’ lives pure hell — and making out."
After seeing the horrified look that America had on his face, England almost forgot to state it was a lie (in a way).
Impertinence
“Now, that is quite enough, America! You shall behave as a proper colony!” England’s voice booms into the halls, even as the young nation runs through the corridors after destroying a door in an attempt to close it. How he hates all of this, having to be England’s inferior, his little brother, his jewel (among many others, he recently found out), just a little thing England indulges now and then. He refuses to be like this; to be like his brother. He’d rather be remembered by being rebellious, America decides. Even more, he would rather be on the same grounds as England — never inferior to him. Never.
Jealous
Sometimes he would date a lot of people only to make a certain Brit friend of his jealous, he would admit. After all, Alfred had confessed to him a total of five times and been turned down in all of them, with the same excuse: he was too young. But as soon as he started proving how much of an adult he already was, the more Arthur became flustered around him (enraged as well, but that was to be expected). After all of those years of one-sided love, he wants to see Arthur being jealous, for once. The thrill of those piercing green eyes staring daggers at his back was better than any kiss or even sex, if Alfred is being honest. The only downside is the inevitable fights… and Matthew and Francis’s too knowing glances and unnecessary comments.
Kids
After six years of a happy married life, Alfred asked if Arthur would want kids. His only response was a laugh and a kiss, and the heavily implied "only when you stop being one, darling."
Loving
Everything about him was lovely for Arthur and it seemed fate really had it for him. For his husband to end up being the very hero with whom he fought for years and devised thousands of plans against… Before, the American had only been a nuisance and source of many headaches; now, however, he was the light of his life. The very best part of his day is his never-ending bright attitude – so different from his own, cranky and satirical. Every detail, every word – even the light insults they said to each other now and then – and everything that was Alfred was lovely for Arthur. Maybe the world was worth not being destroyed. Just maybe.
Married
When they finally tied the knot, it wasn't all roses, but that's to be expected with them. Sometimes they would fight or stay away for long hours, but at the end of the day, they would always come back to each other and hold hands — the matching rings never removed, not even after the most difficult fights.
Meeting
They met each other in every possible alternative universe. Whether they would love or hate each other, that depends on many variables. In some, they would be enemies, in others, best friends, or even lovers (those were their favorites). But one thing was for certain: they would never be far apart from each other.
Mysterious
“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested, old man.” Said the enigmatic fae-looking being, more mystical than human.
Alfred balked. “Excuse me? I’m not old! I’m 25!” The gall! He’d never been called old before; he didn’t even have a single wrinkle! He took care of his skin, damn it.
The green-eyed, beautiful human scoffed and started to slither away, aiming for an empty corner in the party (or as empty as it could get).
“Hey, can’t I get at least a name?”
It was the first time he’d ever been this shut down. He didn’t really know what to do. Smiling was always his way of flirting. A smirk made that face even more angelic. The words that followed were anything but.
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you, old man.”
And Alfred could tell he meant every word. It still didn’t keep him from insisting on a name, following this creature of another world home and never coming back.
Noble
Any preconceived notions of magnanimous and exemplary royalty who lived for their people were quickly dashed when Arthur met the King of Spades. An angry, bitter, and eventually violent old drunk who couldn’t win a war against Clubs and took it out on his queen. The ex-Kirkland cursed the day the Spades mark appeared on his chest — a brand of death, rather than one of noble and important pursuits, like he once dreamed.
His dashed dreams died quickly in his marriage but resurfaced just as quickly in his second one, to the ex-king’s very son. Such a controversial affair, for a son to have the same husband as his father’s, one Arthur would absolutely deny if he weren’t there the day Alfred swiftly killed the old king. With no remorse in those cold blue eyes, the once sweet and kind child turned into a terrifying young man.
But Arthur saw the same glint of adoration and love for adventure he knew from that child in the young royal covered in blood in front of him.
“I’ll never let you be treated like this again. Or our kingdom.”
And it was in this young man, guilty of patricide, bloodied and with glinting eyes, that Arthur saw his ideal noble king.
Nonnegotiable
The terms of the economic assistance are brutal and humiliating. The worst part is how a hidden (very hidden) part of himself is rather proud of this. Of how far America came, to be able to boss not just him but all other nations like this. To lose his superpower title to his very own colony… fittingly tragic, as many of his writers would have loved the irony. England is willing to do what it takes for its people. If the silly lad wants some sort of submission display, he will give (just a bit) into it; his pride be damned. But he doesn’t quite understand one clause.
“Why do we have to share every hotel room from now on? I’m not obliged to go to all the meetings you attend,” the ‘superpower’ is implied but very clear in the air.
America laughs coldly — where did that young, sweet boy go? England mourns him — and his eyes are hidden strategically behind those artificial (unneeded) lenses.
“Oh, you’re obliged, England. You’ll go where I go. And you’ll sleep where I sleep. That’s how this will go.”
You obey me now.
And England is reminded of its every rule, order, and argument with the then-colony. But his actions came from love. Whatever it is America feels for him now, it’s a very distant feeling.
One-sided
France and Canada wonder — to themselves and to each other, in their precious now rare moments together — when those fools will stop living an illusion and quit fighting. Their self-imposed martyrdom of being the only one in love is getting old and fast.
Only
This alpha was insane. A man on top of his game, young, virile, and the leader of the biggest pack of their state, Jones could easily have any omega(s) he so chose. So why was he requesting to court old Kirkland, long past his prime and with an offspring of the alpha who abandoned them? One would think something was off with Alfred F. Jones, but his leadership and strategy proved he was absolutely sound of mind. Why would he want damaged goods?
Arthur only realized he said that last part out loud when a growl made him jump out of his fur — and made him shiver just as much — an excitement he once knew long ago, before he ever considered being mated (and left behind).
“First off, never call yourself that. Ever again.” And that delicious growl made Arthur nod, not in fear, but in pleasure. “And second, dude, I’ve been trying to court you since I was a kid. Finally, you’re taking me seriously now!”
Taking Arthur’s balking expression as a sign of success, Alfred preens and continues, so very confident he will be accepted (this time for sure, what’s the 17th try?) he makes sure Arthur knows, “And Peter wants some siblings! He told me so!”
Persistence
It wasn't the beautiful Russian or the mature Frenchwoman who took Amelia’s breath that day. Rather, it was a frowning, bespectacled British woman sitting alone who so clearly did not wish to be there. Amelia came up with a million different reasons as to why that gorgeous chick with the hottest accent ever was even in a blind date party like this, but she’d rather just get the real answer, even if it was boring. Her desire to know more about the woman only increased after she was turned down three times in the same night, and she had no intention of leaving without a name.
Soon enough, a tanned, beautiful woman went to the mysterious long-haired woman, and they left, sinking every hope Amelia had for the night. But lady luck did like her, apparently. When she was leaving, the organizer called her over and gave her a slip of paper. In the fanciest handwriting she’s ever seen, there it was:
‘If you are nearly as good as you are persistent, prove it.
Alice.’
So that was the beauty's name! Oh yes, Amelia would prove how much a heroine's persistence could get you.
Plan B
They were each other’s plan B. If neither had a prospective romantic relationship by the time they reached the big ol’ 35, they would marry. It’s a perfect solution for them, Alice thinks. Her, an approachable and unsexy librarian who longs to be a mother, and Alfred, the bumbling fool who never fully grew into his height and worked to spend more time in space than on Earth. The decision was sensible and done at the right time, when they were just 22 years old. None of their friends were surprised when the so-called forever besties got married at 24.
Rain
Arthur didn't care for the heavy drops that fell on his head and shoulders as he fiercely kissed his lover under the dark sky. They would both get sick if they stayed too much under the rain in such cold weather, but so what? All that mattered was Alfred, the beautiful American who took his heart when he left to fight in the war and was, miraculously, back home alive. He was finally back, and Arthur would never let him go. Leaning down and holding tight as if he would never let go, Arthur made sure not to sit on top of Alfred, as the returning soldier was still not used to the wheelchair. That would have to wait once they were both safe and sound inside.
Recluse
England liked solitude above all else. If asked, he would vehemently state his preference was being by himself, but that wasn't quite true. He appreciated solitude as a choice, rather than being left alone by the ones he loved. When asked whether he was lonely (mainly by stupid Francis) he would answer that no, and to mind your own business. The funny thing? It wouldn't be a lie. He had always been like this, so it felt normal to be alone. Now, as he wanders through the hallways of his enormous house and sees how empty it is, save for his magical friends, he realizes how truly alone he is. He had human friends and magical friends as well, but he missed the company of fellow nations as well. He wonders if it was a good idea to call some of his ex-colonies for a cup of tea, even if the main one he had in mind prefers coffee.
Revenge
After six years, he finally tracked him down. Working for the FBI had been useful for something, Alfred somewhat begrudgingly thought as he stalked the fidgeting mess of a man in front of him. Today, he will settle this. Following this criminal’s trail all over the world took time and money. But not like either of those mattered to him anymore. After properly making him suffer and pay for his sins, Alfred would finally meet his husband again, after all this time. And he would bring this guy’s head with him.
Roommates
“Who are you? And what are you doing in my apartment??” The loudest voice ever known to man made Arthur stumble a bit.
He sighed, used to this. “This is my room. I rented this place. Arthur Kirkland?” He motions to the name in the form.
Still, the American won’t listen to reason. This was his place and no one else was welcome. He was waiting for his little brother to join him, and they’d split the rent while working in the big city, finally.
This was always the painful part. Arthur felt more for this young man than for any of the others. So exuberant and full of life, surely with many plans for the future.
“If you mean Mr. Williams, he won’t be coming. But I can help you, let’s work together and solve this. Then you can move on.” He tried to smile kindly, failing already.
“Nice try, dude, but you’re not gonna seduce me into moving out. Sorry, but no cigar!”
“S-seducing??” Arthur hated how pink he always got; he could feel how much he was blushing even without looking. And judging by the insufferable fool’s smile, so could he. “Young man, I’m merely trying to help you find the light!”
“Look, man, whatever you believe in is all well and good, but please don’t sell me your religion-“
That went on for hours. Never had he met anyone that irritating or obvious. It took this Alfred guy three days to understand that objects passed through him and walls weren’t an obstacle.
“No, Alfred. It’s not a superpower. You’re a ghost.”
“A what????”
And with the way the American blanched and hid behind a wall, one would think he was the one being haunted.
Sensual
The way his lover would move so seductively and whisper his name always made him go crazy. Arthur always seemed ashamed of his body, something Alfred never understood. He loved every single curve, every bit of skin the older blond would cover him with. He could truly never get enough of Arthur. No drug could surpass this. Later, though, the Brit would only laugh incredulously as he was called the sexiest ever by the American, believing it to be one of his many jokes.
Space
Arthur knew he would never be truly alone. Whenever he would see the bright blue sky or a picture of the never-ending space, he would remember Alfred. Neither of them followed their dream profession. The Englishman never became a writer as he had so dreamed, settling for an assistant professor’s job. And his favorite American never got to finish his NASA training. Even so, Arthur knew in his heart that Alfred was now exploring and going on adventures to the end of space, without the weight of equipment or the need for breathing.
Tangible
“Here with me, always,” Alfred murmured sweetly as he pressed light kisses on Arthur’s face. Inside this damp, small apartment for one, he finally had his muse, all to himself. He wouldn’t let others see the otherworldly beauty that was Arthur. No one but him deserved that honor. He might display his paintings - once finished - if he ever felt so kind. But that was all they would get. The real Arthur; beautiful, soft but firm and hypnotizing one was all to himself. “Stay here with me. Don’t leave.”
As focused as Alfred is in removing Arthur’s clothes and struggling with the many buttons, he doesn’t see the other’s expression.
“Always,” Arthur agrees with a sigh, smiling in success, enveloping the younger man in a lustful embrace. The look of a predator that caught its prey.
Terminal
“I want to see you again,” Arthur said, letting the tears flow freely, not caring about anything right now but the limp hand on his own. “If reincarnation is real,” something he didn’t believe and had many arguments over with his husband, “and I- I hope it is… I want to meet you again. Love and bicker with you again. Marry you again… please, Arthur…”
His only reply is the sterile silence of the hospital room, no longer filled by the sound of a beating heart signal on the monitor.
Time
“You look beautiful,” Alfred sighed, looking at the handsome Englishman in his sharp suit, prepared to walk down the aisle – for the third (and final) time in their lives.
Arthur thanks him, nodding. Too emotional to trust himself with words. It’s so special that Alfred is here with him on this day, even after everything they went through. Their two failed attempts at marriage.
As Arthur walks through rows of chairs, smiling at every single guest and especially at his husband-to-be, Alfred stares at him from his seat.
Would they have made it work, had they had more time? Yes, he believes. And it’s not a consolation for himself. If they had centuries together, he is sure they could have finally made their marriage work. But at 64 years old, it seems too late for them now.
Uniform
Little Emily is not so little anymore. And for some reason, she loves to hang out at the Kirkland house. So far, that was how it always was. But lately she’s always in her cheerleader uniform. Every single time. And Arthur doesn’t know what to do anymore. He’s a gentleman, and Emily is still the darling young girl she always was, just… taller. And much too daring with her newfound bold attempts at flirting. After a much-needed talk where he explains the dangers of men and to absolutely not parade around like that outside of practice, they don’t speak for a week. He regrets it bitterly since they don’t have many days to hang out before he’s back in college. But he couldn’t possibly go back clearheaded while knowing Emily is walking around like a Hollywood star in the world’s smallest uniform known to men. While he’s packing up, his eldest brother shows up. Obviously, not to wish him well but to berate him. As per usual.
“If you think she’s always in that little uniform, then uni isn’t making you smart at all.” He snorts while lighting his cigar. “Emily only comes to see us sad sacks when you’re home, jackass.”
Arthur really can’t afford to buy a new train ticket, but he still misses it gladly. He can’t leave without patching up with Em first. And if he’s still thinking about that hug and peck she gave him and wondering what the surprise she’ll send him later is, well, that is only for him to know and ponder.
Uranus
The weird British boy who never said anything in class became Alfred’s very bestest friend ever in the entire world that day during fourth grade. As he was the only kid who didn’t laugh constantly about Uranus and actually respected Alfred’s presentation (which he worked really, really hard on) it was decided that Kirk-whatever was easily the best kid in class. And as it turns out, Alfred was very much right in that regard.
Venom
Each world meeting is an exchange of cruel remarks and hateful looks. England strikes like a viper, chipping away at the American empire’s egos while the eagle does the same to the now old timer. But even this is a relief to them. For every hate filled word or gesture means there is something there. Too strong to repress, too heavy to forgive. Anything is better than indifference – and in that, they both agree.
Victory
They lost. Even though their teamwork was quite impressive – which definitely surprised all of their friends – the ‘Special Relationship’ duo lost the game. They did their best, struggled, painted, and hid well. Alfred even got a good shot at the very end, but it was still not enough. Even though they lost, they still felt victorious as they smiled at each other with paint-filled faces. After all, one could never hope to win at paintball when Vash was included.
Wait
America has never been the patient type. As a child, he would throw fits almost daily. As an adult… Well, now it’s on a weekly basis. Still, for England, he decides to try. It’s not like the old man hasn’t already made him wait for centuries and test his patience to the very limits. But if the world’s porn ambassador wants to take it slow, then fuck it, America is more than willing to wait. Only if it’s England.
Warped
The glasses were a way to make him seem older. To hide his too honest and naive eyes from the world. A shield in a different form, used for the battlefield of verbal politics. America doesn’t actually need them and can see quite well. But maybe it’s the way the light reflects on them or how it ever so slightly adds a layer to his view. Whatever it is, it makes England even more striking. A glance, that green uniform (that looks so plebeian in anyone but him), those long boots covering even longer legs. Any part he sees of England seems like it’s his own personal screen. America fiddles with his glasses often in meetings, pretending he has his own secret camera. Wishing he could record England in the most creative positions and ways. Maybe he can add that as a clause to their next amendment. After all, they share a special relationship.
Whim
Never one for coffee, Alice has to wonder what made her stop at a coffee shop of all places after work. She doesn’t like the taste or the smell, and she has never felt a need for it. Maybe a cookie would do, as she craves something sweet, but it is certainly bizarre for her to act so outside her routine. Outside the norm, how things should be, always set in place. And yet, she wonders if maybe this whimsical decision was fate as she sees the most handsome man she’s ever met behind the counter. His simple and enthusiastic way, coupled with that sunny smile, made her forget all about her horrible day. Maybe it’s the silly romantic in her – which she tried to quell so many times – but she wants to believe it was indeed fate. And deciding to take it into her hands, she returns to the counter and asks for the sunny man’s name.
Xylophone
It turned out that their toddler was as good with his little music toy as Arthur was with baking and Alfred was with knitting. The couple decided no more musically inclined objects from here on out - and Alfred was to confirm first any inspired gift ideas he might have out of the blue. This time only, he agreed without argument.
Yield
With nothing but the high seas surrounding him, the British Empire surveyed the free horizon. Oh, how he loved to be leading ships, under the blue sky and away from Europe, the stuffy court, and every hunt that bound him. Nothing could beat the fresh air, bountiful sea (which he loved even if he should drown in it) and boundless blue sky. Finally, he was at the top of the world. No one above him; all nations below him. It was everything he ever dreamed of, everything he fought for. Nothing could bring him down now. He would never yield to any country, be it his lands, his treasures, or much less his heart. If Europe had never brought him down, it certainly wouldn’t be the case for this so-called new world.
Yuck
…is what Alice says the day she learns about kisses. Boys have cooties, and she does not want to touch them, thank you very much. She would much rather spend time with her books, away from her brothers (who have even more cookies or possibly a dangerous virus) and by herself. Though if Amelia from next door pops up for another witch play pretend, Alice might just agree. A fellow girl would never have cooties, and Alice quite likes holding hands and hugging Amy. Though the little American is always the one to tackle her, maybe this time she might surprise her. Yes, Alice decides. Amy does not have cooties. She could consider kissing her if her best friend suggests. And so Alice decides to bring along her made-up book of spells, which now suspiciously contains quite a few that include true love’s kiss.
Zero
“This life is coming to an end,” the powerful god of the mountain told his lover of the skies in secret. They always met in these little hidden moments, when the sun would be completely covered, and the blue-eyed winged spirit would fly down to meet him. Free from prying eyes, if only for such a short time in even longer intervals.
The winged being nodded. He could feel it and mourned his fellow entity, even if the emerald-eyed spirit lived many centuries more than he.
“I’ll join you.” And there was no lie in those clear blue eyes, just like the sky where he was born.
Eyes wise beyond their time, barely seeing now, closed kindly. He expected that answer. “All in due time, my love. You have much yet to live for.”
“Not without you.”
“Cease being foolish. Your time will come when it is nature’s will.” Emerald eyes demand a promise.
They remain quiet for long minutes, knowing their eclipse time is coming to an end. The blue-eyed one nods. Who’s to say if his lover will be alive the next time the sky is covered in darkness and he is free to escape?
“Shall we pray to meet once more?”
He laughs at the look on the others' eyes. Obviously.
And with an enchantment long lost to mankind but ever present in nature, the mountain spirit and the sky made an oath.
Let’s be together in all of our next lives. In every universe. In any possibility.