[Reader x Britain]
You were nearly home. It was now completely dark out and you were rushing home. You stopped at the crosswalk and waited for the red signal to turn to the walking man. A loud hissing sound (followed by a low rumble) came from right behind you. A dark blue pace bus pulled out slowly from behind, passed and took a gradual right. Surprised, you noticed a familiar figure in the lit up window of the bus.
It's him.. The guy from earlier.
You looked at his face, hoping that by doing so it would catch his attention.
As the bus moved by, you detected the smallest movement of the head and slightest smile. The crosswalk changed, and as you crossed, you couldn't help thinking of the events that took place that day. Especially meeting the handsome Brit.
Home. I don't want to leave. I don't want to be used. Tricked. Hurt... Why (Ex/Bf)? (Ex/Fr)?.. You asked yourself angrily.
Finally, you had managed to get home. It took longer than usual (for obvious reasons), but you didn't want to think about it. Upon arriving home, you marched straight up to your room and closed the door, slumping on your bed.
Why am I so upset? This is so stupid..
Plugging in your headphones to your Ipod, you played your love hate songs once again and drifted off to a light sleep.
"I love you"
"I said I love you, (Y/N)"
"You're a liar.. I know you. You don't have the slightest clue on what love is. Neither of us do."
Slowly, (Ex/Bf) walked.
You were alone.
I am alone..
Suddenly, (Ex/Fr) appeared from no where. They were holding hands.
They walked. Away.
Jolting up, you awoke abruptly, kicking the wall plastered beside you.
Annoyed, you pulled the blankets that had once offered warmth and comfort from your bare legs. Getting up, you walked the pain off and stared out the cracks of the shade that covered the window. It was still dark, but signs showed the sun threatening to peak over.
Walking over to the mirror placed at the entrance of the room, you noticed the red circle like areas that surrounded your eyes. They were puffy, meaning only one thing, that you had cried at some point in the night.
Curiously, you glanced over to the alarm clock that lay dormant on the small desk beside your bed.
Looking out the window once more, you decided to go for a morning walk. Going to the mirror, you tied up the messy (H/C) hair you owned, placed the same hoodie from yesterday on, put on a pair of baggy pants and set out.
The sun was barely pushed over. An orange tint was now coloring the landscape with its flavor and dotted the overcast sky with many hues from blue to sunrise pink. Occasionally, in one of your "moods" you went for walks. This time you went throughout the neighborhood. It was a quiet one, right off the main road of town.
You had been walking for roughly 10 minutes when you decided you would turn around and circle back, after all, it was a school day and you had to get ready. But before turning, you had heard a faint and obnoxious, but familiar voice fill the air.
"Dude! I'm telling you- You're gonna love it here!"
That can be only one person..
"Ahahahahaha! Whats wrong bro?! Homesick!? I'm telling you, America's the shit!"
Yup. Alfred Jones.
Why is Alfred here? You wondered. Curious, you ducked behind a large tree. Just who was he talking to?
Just then, you noticed the large, white moving truck.
"New neighbors?" Speaking to yourself.
From the doorway, a blonde figure approached.
"You git! I already know about the school, the weather, how 'great' America is and everything else there is to know, and to answer your earlier question, yes I am a bit homesick but wouldn't you? Now if you don't mind.." He picked up a large brown box, labeled 'Fragile, Arthur's room: Box #2', and walked back into the house. Alfred did the same but picked up a smaller box, labeled with 'Fragile, Memories'.
Picking up on small amounts of the conversation, you collected your thoughts.
"Arthur? That's his name?" Turning red in the cheeks, you thought of how well the name matched. Before thinking more of it, you decided to head home. Quickly, you snuck off the property and started for your house. Only after you were at school, would you think of him again.
To be continued