Arthur looked at the door to the apartment and frowned. It had been long, far too long. Alfred would never usually disappear for this long, even after their fights. Arthur would be lying if he said he wasn't more concerned than angry at the boy.
The usual routine was that Alfred would slam the door to the apartment shut once they had an argument and then drive for an hour or so, most likely visit one of the fast food chains and pick up a hamburger before continuing, and then when he returned back home one of them would go and hug the other one in a silent apology. That was how it always worked.
But Alfred never stayed out for this long. He left the apartment at half seven, and Arthur barely registered the clock chiming eleven in the evening.
"What's taking the idiot so long?" Arthur sighed, pulling himself off the couch he was lying down on and going to the kitchen to pick up a bottle of rum. If Alfred wouldn't be there to comfort him surely his alcohol could do that for him. Arthur didn't even bother with a glass, he was too anxious to bother with something so trivial. Arthur downed a large gulp of the substance which burnt his throat in a way he was all too familiar with.
Arthur didn't notice the apartment door meekly being opened or see his boyfriend walk into the kitchen and simply watch Arthur drink, unsure of what to say. As such, it came as a bit of a shock to Arthur when he finished his bottle of rum, after a particularly long swig of the liquid, to see Alfred there.
"Oh, it's you," Arthur pointed a finger at Alfred, a finger, he noticed, which was beginning to swirl slightly, "Am I already that drunk? You've gone and disappeared and left me here." A drunk giggle emerged from Arthur, along with a hiccup.
"You're already drunk aren't you," Alfred deadpanned. Unlike Arthur, he knew that he was perfectly safe and was still a tad angry at Arthur. Now he was beginning to feel his mostly cooled frustration begin to rise at coming home to find Arthur already drunk.
"Shaddup!" Arthur pointed at Alfred once again and began to poke his extended finger into Alfred's chest, "Shaddup, you're the one who left for hours and made me worry about you! You can't just do that! At least send a message or something! You irresponsible prat!" Arthur reached to punch Alfred on the shoulder but because he was intoxicated it was a rather half-hearted punch. Alfred scowled at this.
"You're the one who goes drinking yourself stupid over every problem! Alcohol doesn't help your problems, it just makes them worse." Alfred bitterly rubbed his fingers over an object in his jacket pocket.
"I wouldn't have probl-hic-problems if you didn't run every time we fight!" By now Arthur was openly crying, though whether it was from his drunk side or not Alfred couldn't tell.
"And you run from the problem by drinking..." Alfred wasn't mad now; all his anger had vanished and been replaced with remorse. Arthur turned away from Alfred.
"Just...just leave me alone, Alfred. Please." Alfred's eyes widened- Arthur wasn't as drunk as he thought.
"Arthur, please," Alfred reached out to tentatively touch Arthur's shoulder but Arthur shrugged it away.
"Go. I know you're okay, now go." It barely came out as a whisper. Alfred sighed and ran a finger through his hair.
"Alright Arthur, if that's what you want. I'll go set up the spare bed," Alfred waited for a reply but when he never got one he simply sighed again and walked out of the room, leaving Arthur to drink himself to oblivion.
Alfred pulled the sofa out until the mattress came out. Pulling the shawl which was hanging on the back of the sofa over himself, Alfred curled into himself and covered himself with the thin material. Before he allowed himself to sleep, Alfred fondled the small velvet box in his jacket pocket, his reason for being late.
"One day," Alfred shuddered as he shed a few tears before hugging himself and dropping off into an uneasy sleep.