T'is the Season

he cold air of London had started to drift in from the shores. Winter was coming with it's white flakes of welcome. By now, people of the island country were gearing up for a beloved holiday, Christmas. One in particular that allowed happy families gather together for warmth and true bliss. The sounds of children running to the high snow covered hills with sleds tucked under their small arms as they giggled with excitement. The adults preparing for the holiday by decking their gayest apparel and decorating their humble homes with bright lights and holly.
The season would always bring a smile to the British man's face as he would take his daily walk through downtown London bundled up in his warmest jacket and scarf. His nose was a bright red from the frigid air alone with his cheeks but that didn't cease his daily venture out. The townspeople all seemed to know him, with a small smile or wave. He would give them a hello and keep walking. But the holiday itself was quite saddening to him. While everyone was out, celebrating with relatives, he was home. Alone. The last Christmas he celebrated with someone was many years ago.
Arthur was a man of age 23, blonde hair and emerald eyes that would sparkle as he watched the youth slip and slide down the ice covered cobblestones.
“Mr. Kirkland! You should give it a try!” one of the children yelled to him.
Arthur gave a chuckle and a wave of dismissal, “I am not as agile as you! I might slip and end up in the hospital for Christmas!” he replied with a feigned smile. Deep down it reminded him of that last Christmas filled with happiness and he would do anything to avoid bringing up any memories of that unforgiving day.
He continued to walk, taking in the enticing aromas of peppermint and balsam from fresh cut Christmas trees. The perfect combination that practically spelt out CHRISTMAS in big letters.
“Arthur!” a voice called behind him. The British Man froze and spun around on his heel to see his long term friend, Alfred.
“Al? Shouldn’t you be celebrating Christmas in your country?”
Alfred smiled and shrugged, “I wanted to celebrate Christmas the British way. American Christmases are awesome and all, but British Christmases could be cool too...never live up to the potential of the American Christmas but they are cool and all...I guess.”
A little about Alfred: Alfred was born in Tennessee and moved to the Big Apple when he reached age 18. He had a passion for superheroes and freedom. One of his noticable traits is that he is the most patriotic person you’d ever meet. He sleeps under the American flag, he hangs and lowers the flag every single day . He even served in the Marines for two years.
Arthur scoffed, though he had to admit, a Christmas with Alfred wouldn’t be half bad. Besides, it seemed like a better outlet than mourning over the death of a ruined Christmas.
“That would be lovely. And having you here means that I have a strapping young fellow to hang up my Christmas lights. After all, I am too old. This being according to you, young blood.” Arthur gave a small shrug, a smug smirk surfacing on his lips as he brushed past him with a sway in his swagger.
Alfred laughed his loud obnoxious laugh as he followed, burrowing his hands in his jacket pockets before jogging up to the Brit. “Hey, I am only nineteen. You’re making it sound like I am twelve!” he pouted, protruding his bottom lip.
Arthur gave a huff with a roll of his eyes, “You sure do act like it.”
Alfred gasped over-dramatically, cupping his mouth with his gloved hand. “That was not nice!”
The Brit looked to the American and chuckled, before starting to walk again. “Come on...we should get to your hotel so we can grab your luggage-”
“I already dropped it off at your apartment...remember? I have a key?” Alfred smirked, holding up a single key on his key ring.
Arthur blinked, then yanked it away from him. “Where did you get this?! I never gave it to you!” he demanded, looking between him and the key that laid in his palm.
“You gave it to me...last Christmas I was here, silly.” Alfred laughed, shrugging.
Arthur stepped back, dropping the key then looked down, his thick brows furrowed. “Oh...jeez..sorry. I forgot, don’t startle me, Jones.” he grimaced.