“Dance Poppet, Dance.”
He felt like he was on top of the world. His mind was soaring; his heart pounded heavily in his chest with excitement and power. And she was the source of it all. He watched as she pirouetted across the dark tile floor, her feet gliding across the tiles as if it wasn’t even there. Her arms fell around her body gracefully as they swayed to the imaginary music in her head. Her simple white dress flowed around her, the fabric billowing out from her waist, gently twirling around her spinning legs. The blue bow that was wrapped around her (h/l) (h/c) hair chased behind her as she teetered back and forth. She was merely a blur of colors. Pink, blue, white.
_________’s eyes caught hold of Arthur’s as her body took to another spin. Her eyes shined brightly, their deep (e/c) color sparkling, immediately pulling Arthur in. She was the embodiment of innocence and simplicity and it made Arthur all the more eager to touch her.
He sat there upon his throne, one leg throne over the delicate, gilded arm as his head rested in the palm of his hand, his elbow resting on the other arm of the chair. His blonde hair fell haphazardly across his face obscuring his vibrant green eyes. Lazily, he sat there watching his little puppet dance mercilessly in front of him, his amusement evident in his eyes.
This is what he wanted. To stay here. To be in control. This is what he craved.
Suddenly _________ stopped dancing, as if the music had come to a close. Silently she bowed before slowly walking towards Arthur. Every step was minute and calculated, as if she was walking on glass. Arthur’s hand twitched. He wanted to reach out and touch her delicate frame, to caress her perfect face. He had to ball up his hand next to his side to contain himself; if he hadn’t he would have sprang from his throne and enveloped her in his arms, crushing her with his embrace.
She had now made it to the base of his throne, her feet carefully making their way up the velvet lined steps. Slowly she stopped before him, kneeling so that she looked up at him, so she could see into those shining verdigris eyes. Her hand reached out, as if in slow motion, to caress his cheek. But just before her hand made such contact, an ear shattering scream pierced the delicate atmosphere. __________ fell away from Arthur, just a blur of colors. Pink, blue, white. Red. Arthur’s head pounded, the pressure making his ears ring. The scene started to fade, objects turned into mere shapes, sounds turned into faint waves. Arthur felt like he was being ripped apart.
Arthur shot up out of bed, his eyes bursting open. He could feel the sheen of sweat that stuck to his body, but his limbs felt ice cold. The sheets around him were torn from the bed, lying haphazardly on the floor. His breaths came labored and sporadic; his mind was a buzz with silent noise.
“That same damn dream…”
As his eyes adjusted to the dark shadows of the room, he looked over at his bedside table. 2:32 AM. He roughly pushed himself off the edge of the bed. He didn’t care that the cold floor stung his feet; he didn’t feel the pain as he stumbled over his shoes he’d left by the bed earlier that night, he just had to get some air. He made his way over to his window, roughly pulling the curtains aside and thrust the window open. The cold breeze hit his bare chest sending a shiver down his spine, but it felt good. He took long deep breaths, slowly inhaling the fresh night air. This was getting old. He had to stop these teasing nightmares before he cracked.
Arthur sat at his kitchen table, a half drunk cup of Earl Grey sitting beside him, the newspaper thrown in the chair opposite him. His head was in his hands, the wheels in his mind stalled on one single thing. He had saw __________ again today. It seemed like every time this feeling of overwhelming heartache crept into Arthur’s life, she showed up. The heartache was normal; he had loved and lost for centuries now. It was the life of a country, one of the consequences you could say. However the way _________ made him feel was far from normal. His hands twitched and his mind went blank every time he saw her. His heart would pound and he would get this overwhelming urge to run his hands over her everlasting form. It seemed like her very presence was a poison to him. Sometimes he even thought she did it on purpose; purposely showing up in his life when he seemed to be at his weakest point, almost as if she was taunting him, teasing him. But she couldn’t possibly know how she made him feel right? _________ had very little actual contact with Arthur. Most of the time it was a fleeting glance, a pleasant smile or a simple wave of her hand, greeting him or sending him off.
He still didn’t know exactly how _________ had came into his life. He knew that she was one of the few humans that knew about the World Conferences. He knew that Ludwig had hired her after she had accidentally stumbled into one of the meetings, but she proven to be quite the worker. She was responsible with her work and could keep a secret well. Secrets. I wonder what secrets she has… Arthur shook his head. This had to stop. It was starting to affect his performance at the Conferences. He would stare off into space, not even listening as the other countries discussed their problems. He didn’t even have the energy to fight with old Frog Face anymore.
Slowly Arthur rose from his seat as he walked over to his living room window, looking down onto the empty streets of London. He knew there had to be a way to stop all this but he didn’t know where to start. His mind started to recall the one time he actually did get to hold _________ in his arms.
Arthur ran his hand through his unruly hair. The World Conference meeting had been irritating. Everyone had been bickering back and forth. It had been one of the most unsuccessful meetings they had ever held. He would be happy to get back to his hotel room so he could unwind and relax, enjoy a nice cup of tea and catch up on some Doctor Who. As he made his way down his hallway in the hotel were all the nations were staying for the conference, he noticed a dark hooded figure walking down one of the side halls, slowly as if he were following someone. Arthur dropped his briefcase silently next to his door and followed the figure. As he rounded the corner he noticed that there was in fact a person walking ahead of the hooded figure, a female he noted, by the fitted jacket and simple skirt she wore. But as she stopped and turned to unlock her door he instantly recognized her profile just as the hood figure launched themself towards her.
Arthur ran forward as the dark figure grabbed _________ and pushed her inside her room. Quickly he grabbed the figure, pulling them off of _________’s shaking figure. He brought one arm up around the figure’s neck as the other hand held the figure’s hand behind their back.
“I suggest you leave and never return or I won’t let you leave unharmed next time. Understood?”
When Arthur didn’t get a response his arm tightened around the male’s throat. (He could tell it was a male by his broad shoulders and the stubble along his neck.)
“I-I understand-d. Let me g-go…” The male gasped for air. Arthur released him roughly and pushed him towards the door, anger staining his eyes a dark malicious green. He stood there for a moment as he saw the figure rush off, stumbling, terrified down the hall. He closed the door behind him, locking it, and then turned towards ________. She was sitting upon the floor, her arms hugging herself, tears streaming down her face.
“________ it’s okay. He’s gone now. Everything will be alright now, love.”
Arthur knelt beside her, his fingers delicately wiping the tears away from her eyes. Suddenly she lurched forward, wrapping her arms around Arthur’s neck, her head resting in the crook of his neck. He was sure he could hear his pounding heart, but she probably assumed it was the adrenaline from the attack. Slowly he wrapped his arms around her form, rubbing soothing circles into her back while cooing into her ear, telling her everything would be all right. _________ knew everything was alright, she was just glad that Arthur was there; she felt so much safer in his arms.
After a few moments _______ pulled away, the tears gone and small smile on her lips. Without warning she leaned forward and kissed Arthur on the lips. It was short and faint, like a butterfly’s kiss. It lasted only seconds, but Arthur had felt it.
‘Thank you Arthur.”
Arthur felt his whole body begin to quake. It was strange, he felt like he was on cloud nine but at the same time his body felt like it was breaking down.
“D-don’t worry about it, love. A-anyone would have done the s-same thing.” Arthur stuttered, his accent thick. He felt really warm now, almost feverish. He had to get out of there despite how much he just wanted to cradle _________ in his arms. He only spent a few more moments there to make sure she really was okay before dashing out of the hotel completely, only to find himself collapse on a park bench some blocks away. That was when the dreams had started.
~End of Flashback~
Arthur sighed heavily. Suddenly he pushed himself away from the window, not even bothering to close it. He quickly grabbed his keys and his dark trench coat from the closet before dashing out the door of his apartment and hurriedly down the street. Before he knew it he was walking up the stairs in another building, just feet away from ________’s apartment door. He knocked on the door 3 times, each knock short and desperate. It didn’t take _______ long to open the door. She stood there smiling up at him, framed by the backdrop of her apartment.
_________ noticed something seemed off about Arthur. He looked disheveled, upset even.
“Arthur, is everything okay?” She asked, concern apparent in her voice.
“C-can I come in, love?”
Her eyes widened for a moment. Something must be wrong.
“Of course, Arthur. Come right in.”
She stepped aside, letting him in. She closed the door behind him and watched as he paced across her living room floor. She walked up beside him about to ask again if everything was okay when he sharply turned so that he was facing her. His arms extended and his hands rested on her shoulders applying the gentlest of pressure. _______ could see there was a glint to Arthur’s eyes, a mix of apprehension and denial. She felt his hands shake ever so slightly against her shoulders. What had him so freaked out?
“I need you.”
What? ________ was a bit confused by his words. She looked at him head cocked to the side, an eyebrow raised. Arthur stepped a bit closer so that there were just inches between them.
“I n-need you __-________.”
This time he moved even closer so that their noses nearly touched. ________ could feel his breathe against her cheeks. They flushed profusely at the sudden closeness, but before she could say anything a set of lips pressed against hers. Arthur had taken the plunge. He couldn’t take it any more. He couldn’t stay away from her any longer, it was like she had a hand on his heart and was toying with it at that very moment.
He pressed closer towards her, his lips quivering ever so slightly against her own. Arthur had never felt this way before. Like a beast. As if his life depended upon this kiss. Like she was his oxygen. The kiss was gentle and benevolent despite the feelings rushing through his blood. Instead of pushing him away like Arthur had expected, he felt a hand cradle his head as the other gently pulled on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.
Suddenly it felt like something within in him finally broke, the chains unraveling from his limbs. Slowly the dark cloud that had been muddling his brain faded. His body felt weak and fragile, but he was finally free. “I finally know how she operates…” he thought.
They both broke for air, their faces flushed from the contact. Arthur held ________ at arm’s length, taking in her features, memorizing them in case this all faded away. She was smiling graciously; her eyes sparkled with excitement as he stared at her lovingly. Her delicate frame was clad in the simplest of attire, a light t-shirt and dark jeans, but she looked as ravishing as the Queen.
Suddenly Arthur pulled ________ back into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her waist as he buried his face in her soft (h/c) hair.
_________ returned the hug, throwing her arms around his neck.
“Thank you, _________.”
“Your welcome, Arthur.””
__________ smiled to herself as Arthur held her close. She had finally gotten what she wanted all along.