Goodbye, Apathy [Abbey]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://www.wallpapersgalaxy.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/111.jpg); background-repeat: repeat; font-family: georgia; color: 40434C; text-align: justify][style=float: left; margin: 10 10 10 10; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/desat_zps872d0505.png); width:100px; height:100px; -webkit-border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; border-radius: 30px][/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 25px; margin-top: 30px; font-size: 19px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em]don't let them see you cry[/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 30px; font-size: 15px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em;]when the dam breaks down [style=margin-left: 5px]and the city's covered in water

[/i][/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]Arthur’s house was like it had always been. Clean, orderly and with the smell of black tea lingering in the atmosphere, mingling with the odour of dusty volumes—however the smell of tea intermingled with another scent this evening, stronger and more pungent. It hung suspended in the house like fireflies over a stream on a pleasant night. This night was anything but pleasant, however. Tea had been the final setback. Oh yes, tea. The one thing that Arthur was quite fond of led to the loss of another thing he’d cherished immensely. Irony stung.

At the moment, however; Arthur was trying to remain as blissfully unaware of anything beyond his study—his desk, chairs, a sofa, and tall shelves, lined with his precious books, maps, and knickknacks. Bottles upon empty bottles that he had neglected to clear away plagued his space—a small bit of solace from the foul world whenever he felt that it was being too cruel for his liking. He probably meant to lock the heavy oak door, but it was slightly ajar, probably only drunkenly pushed. Everything around him was a mess. And he wasn’t faring much better. Arthur, who was usually the very epitome of neatness, had never looked more haggard. His eyes were bloodshot. They were once swollen and blotchy with tears, only allowed within absolute privacy and seclusion. He couldn’t remember the last time he had anything close to sleep. The clothes he was wearing were in disarray and his hair tousled. Bottles of various types of hard liquor—mostly whiskeys and rums— were set on every horizontal surface imaginable. It looked as if he were set on permanently destroying his liver or his mind… whichever came first.

His face was terribly pale. He’d been here—for God knows how long. Ever since he’d come back from that war, England had done nothing but stare at that blasted wall. One in a while, he would throw an empty bottle at it, imagining that he was aiming them at Francis’s smug face. One such incident even evolved into him shouting strings of obscenities at it. Picking fights with inanimate objects wasn’t unheard of for the older nation when he was obscenely plastered, but it was a notice as to how far he had gone. Broken glass salted his floors below that wall as he threw another.

Through the thick, barely comforting film of alcohol over his aching consciousness, he heard the wood floorboards creak outside his study. He wasn’t sure if he heard the door open, but he drunkenly assured himself that it couldn’t be opened, because of course it was locked. Right? ”Leave me alone,” Arthur spat out, having spoken before whoever it was had the chance to say anything. His voice was full of contempt. Yes, contempt. But there was something else. Something that could only be acknowledged as despair.

There was a bitter laugh and another brief sound of smashing once more. The wall took more abuse. Another bottle of whiskey. England knew how to land the right hit. Too bad he hadn’t managed that well at Yorktown. Too bad he hadn’t been as unflinching then… No… of course he didn’t mean that… Never… Not Alfred. but his thoughts were about as coherent at the moment as any other old drunk down in the forgotten street corners of society. His chest ached, every thought even remotely related to Alfred cut deeply—the currently broken remnants of his heart felt so familiar. It had been ruined before and he had managed to somehow gather the pieces into something manageable for the following centuries. He simply had to do that all over again.

He continued to mull and glare precariously at the wall. He took a seat at the far end of the sofa, grabbing a new, unopened bottle. He clumsily worked it open, almost tearing at the skin of his fingertips in the process before taking a long, drawn out drink. It felt like fire against his raw throat and stomach, but he welcomed it gratefully. More pain the better. He continued to be unaware of the likely presence nearby even if he did yell at whoever it was just moments ago... That’s how far gone he was. Arthur didn’t want to feel and he was fine with not feeling anything for a long while yet.
[/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; height: 60px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]time January 1782
words 710
notes woot! finally got this up[/style][/style][/td][/tr][/table][style=font-size: 8px]made by KING of PRE & OTE[/style][/center]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 355px; background-color: #15317E; border-left: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-bottom: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-right: inset 3px #FFFFFF; -moz-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; true] I never told you I needed you darling Like a rose needs the rain Abbey had known the moment Arthur got home that the war hadn’t gone well. It really was pretty obvious from the way he acted, and even with how he was acting now. He wouldn’t even let her near him it seemed like. Sure maybe it was a little selfish of her that she wanted his company for just a little while after he had been gone for so long, but she still did. It was, very lonely by herself, and it always came back to feeling like he had left her forever again. She really did hate that feeling, and even now it felt like Arthur had left her even if he was only in her study. That was probably because he had been locking himself in it and refused to converse in the slightest with anything other than a wall. Yes, she had definitely heard him screaming at it, and really was worried about him. She was pretty sure they couldn’t die from alcohol poisoning, but it would seem that Arthur was doing his best to try, or he was just trying to see how long it would take for the silly organ to explode. Either way, she was worried about what he was doing to himself. Sure, he drank on a regular occasion as it was, but this was different. No, things weren’t okay, but doing this to yourself made nothing better, and she wished he would let her at least try and comfort him. Truth be told, she was hurt by Alfred’s leaving as well, but probably not quite as much as Arthur. After all, she had seen the country far less often than Arthur did, and regretted that slightly. Maybe if she had been around more, or able to be, then he wouldn’t have wanted to leave them both. Abbey would be lying if she claimed she wasn’t upset, and tonight it was getting to the point where even she had started drinking quite a bit. Only, she wished that her and Arthur could be miserable together rather than alone, everything was always worse when you were bitterly alone. She poured herself another drink and resigned herself to at least try and check on Arthur to make sure he hadn’t keeled over in his study. As she walked towards the study she heard the shattering of glass and jumped a bit. She really should have expected it by now, but it had surprised her more because she was fairly tipsy than anything else. Her jumping caused the boards to creak and she heard him shout that he wanted to be left alone. Well, Abbey was sick of leaving him alone, and she noticed that the door wasn’t actually locked, and instead was cracked open. At least the response had told her that he was alive, but she wanted to see him. Normally, she probably would have left him alone, but she had been drinking, and thus good judgement was really nowhere to be found. Besides, he could use the company whether he knew it or not. She pushed the door open a bit and flinched as she heard another bottle hit the wall. It would appear he hadn’t noticed her, or if he had he didn’t mention it. Maybe he was too busy glaring at the wall, or maybe he was just too drunk. She took another sip of her drink before making her way into the room. Now, all she had to do was make it over the couch and he really couldn’t stop her. Actually, he technically couldn’t stop her now, but that was beside the point. The girl finished her drink as she stumbled slightly on her way to the couch. Alright, maybe she was a little more than tipsy at this point. At least she wasn’t drinking from the bottle like a certain country was doing right at the moment. Abbey set her glass down on his desk, seeing as it was empty and therefore not needed, before finally standing before him. Without giving him a chance to tell her to go away, she crawled into his lap with her legs on the outside of his kneeling there on the couch. She took the bottle from him and set it off to the side for now as she wrapped her arms around him and did her best to pull his face to her shoulder and nuzzle into his hair while attempting to smooth it with one of her hands. ”I still love you Arthur, and always will, s-so pleasse…s-stop trying to drink yourself into a coma.” she said with only a few slurs on the s’s mostly. It may have been more convincing had she not been slurring, but that wasn’t the point at the moment. The capital didn’t really mind if he drank, it was just the amount he had been drinking was getting a little worrisome as of late. words: 819 / tag: Rye/ Arthur /notes: <3 [/style][style=display: none;]made by ashkir at rpg-directory.com

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://www.wallpapersgalaxy.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/111.jpg); background-repeat: repeat; font-family: georgia; color: 40434C; text-align: justify][style=float: left; margin: 10 10 10 10; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/desat_zps872d0505.png); width:100px; height:100px; -webkit-border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; border-radius: 30px][/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 25px; margin-top: 30px; font-size: 19px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em]don't let them see you cry[/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 30px; font-size: 15px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em;]when the dam breaks down [style=margin-left: 5px]and the city's covered in water

[/i][/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]Arthur was oblivious to his capital the moment he arrived home—unmindful of her needs and worries. Normally he wouldn’t have left her alone for so long after arriving, especially considering the issues that they had to work past between them centuries earlier. At this very moment, however; he barely even had a thought for himself. The internal ache of the affair left him feeling raw and exposed, like his heart had been torn out and there were only bleeding, open lesions left behind—the openness of the world’s regard stinging them like salt. It was almost unfathomable that anyone could hurt so much on the inside and look completely normal on the outside. Where was the blood? The rawness to his skin? The bruises and welts to show that he had been hurt? Anything to indicate the hot tightness that squeezed at his chest or for the agonising tears that he refused to let loose for too long.

He hated being left. With Alfred, Arthur dared to believe differently, just a little—allowing his guard down just a bit—allowing him to slip under the wire of the wall that Arthur had built around himself. He had allowed that boy to touch him in a way that very few did. And in the end, it didn’t matter. Everyone did it. Why should he be any fucking different? No matter how much anyone told him that they loved him, they would still eventually leave.

He didn’t want to think about it. And he didn’t want to feel that ache—deep and throbbing. It wouldn’t leave! Sleep was impossible, because his dreams were invaded with visions that he’d rather not confront at the moment. Rest and even work were plagued with moments of weakness, rage, and grief. Sometimes he wanted to destroy something just for the satisfaction of seeing something else broken in his study—the other times, he just wanted to release the ugly tears that were being held tightly inside.

Arthur barely noticed Abbey standing before him. By the time he actually did notice, it was too late for him to properly react (though really he was in too much of a piss poor state of mind to do much of anything at this point…) His glazed, slightly reddened eyes stared at her. He tried to manage a glare in response to her intrusion, but couldn’t really pull one off. If anything, the expression looked far too sad to look completely incensed. Not even he could hide that. He was going to say something—anything, a slurred protest toward her presence in his study… or better yet, to ask if there was more whiskey in the cellar… But before he could manage to say anything at all, Abbey had crawled onto his lap, over his legs. His fingers were stubborn over the bottle as she took it from him. A groan escaped his lips when he saw her succeed—not that he was in any condition to have really tried—and his blank stare remained on the bottle as she set it aside.

When she pulled his face into the crook of her neck, his eyes widened marginally in surprise. Some of the stiffness left his muscles when he felt her hand against his hair. A steady breath escaped along with trails of wetness from the corners of his eyes, soaking into her clothed shoulder. It’s amazing what the smallest of touches in the right places can do. Instead of immediately reaching for the bottle once more like he originally intended to, one of his hands trailed down her back, feeling the occasional tendril of hair get in the way of his fingers, while the other hand ever so subtly brushed against the side of her leg against his. ”Yeh don’t love me,” he sighed into her hair. His eyelids grew a little heavy as he gazed at the wall behind her. ”Nobody does.” His words slurred together and there was a certain lilt to his speech that could only be heard when he was severely plastered, but otherwise, Arthur was fairly coherent. An unpleasant, short laugh went through his body, pushing another trek of tears through his bitter smile.

[/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; height: 60px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]time January 1782
words 700
notes oh hello drunk angst[/style][/style][/td][/tr][/table][style=font-size: 8px]made by KING of PRE & OTE[/style][/center]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 355px; background-color: #15317E; border-left: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-bottom: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-right: inset 3px #FFFFFF; -moz-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; true] I never told you I needed you darling Like a rose needs the rain Abbey knew that her country was hurting, and there was nothing that he would let her do to help him. When he came home she wanted to see him, and he just brushed her off without a second thought. That wasn’t something he had done before, and it hurt that he did. Maybe it was selfish of her to want his company when he was clearly upset, but she wanted to help him. He was her country, and she did love him even if she’d never actually told him. Really, it was a complicated relationship they had where there was sometimes a lot of trust, and sometimes there wasn’t a lot. Every time he left she did hope he would come back, but was never fully convinced that he would. If you asked her currently, he had never come back from the revolution. It was the same situation as if he had never come back at all, though with more breaking glass from things being smashed off his study wall. He was here, but not really. It just wasn’t him, the way he used to be, and she missed him. Though really, she’d take him any way he’d let her, the real problem was that he wasn’t going to let her. Initially she was going to give him some space and hoped he would come around soon enough, but he hadn’t and nothing was changing. Thus, she had decided to take matters into her own hands. Thus, she walked straight into his study despite being told to leave him alone just moments ago. Apparently he really hadn’t noticed her, because his expression did change slightly when he saw her. All she could see on his face was sad, and she wanted some way to comfort him. The trick was doing so before he got annoyed or decided to snap at her for some reason. Thus she crawled into his lap and was pulling the bottle off of him. He could pick it up once she was done if he really wanted to, but she was hoping he wouldn’t. Besides, it was rather hard to hug someone if they were too busy drowning themselves in booze. He seemed a bit annoyed that she had succeeded in taking it off of him, but she didn’t particularly care. She pouted slightly when she noted he was staring at it and rather ignoring her, but she forced that to change when she pulled him close to her. Now he had to kind of pay attention, but she was slightly surprised to feel wet drops making their way through the shoulders of her dress. She held him tightly and nuzzled her face into his hair and petted it with her one hand. She could feel his hand on her back and her leg and moved as close as possible. Hearing him say that she didn’t love him and that nobody did she pouted and sat back slightly. ”Would I have even bothered to come in here if I didn’t? Would I care at all about what you’re doing to yourself if I didn’t love you?” she asked him with a frown. The capital’s own eyes were tearing up slightly at the thought. He didn’t think she loved him, and he was completely wrong. ”Why do you have such a hard time believing it? I love you okay? Why can’t you believe that?” she asked him quietly now sitting in his lap looking at him with tears in her eyes. She cared about him, but he didn’t see it, and she wished he would. The blonde capital nuzzled against his cheek before placing a kiss there and continuing to pet his hair a bit. She definitely cared, and she just wanted him to return to his old self. Abbey missed how happy Arthur used to be, and she just wanted him to be less miserable. The way he was almost crying now made her want to cuddle him and tell him it would be alright, but she wouldn’t. That would help nothing, and she was aware of that. Abbey then wrapped her arms around his torso and nuzzled her face into his neck. At least he wasn’t shoving her away though, he was letting her sit in his lap and hug him, or at least it seemed like that. If he was attempting to push her away she hadn’t noticed yet. ”You don’t have to talk about what happened, or how you feel about it if you don’t want to I’d never force you into it. I’m here if you want someone to be miserable with though. I’ll never leave as long as you don’t force me to… Actually; you probably have a hell of a time trying to make me leave at this point.” she said as she hugged him tightly and nuzzled into his shoulder. The girl was still slurring at this point, and so maybe that was why he didn’t believe her, but she was hoping he would be able to see past that and just listen to what he was saying. words: 849 / tag: Rye/ Arthur /notes: somuchfuckingangst [/style][style=display: none;]made by ashkir at rpg-directory.com

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://www.wallpapersgalaxy.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/111.jpg); background-repeat: repeat; font-family: georgia; color: 40434C; text-align: justify][style=float: left; margin: 10 10 10 10; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/desat_zps872d0505.png); width:100px; height:100px; -webkit-border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; border-radius: 30px][/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 25px; margin-top: 30px; font-size: 19px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em]don't let them see you cry[/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 30px; font-size: 15px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em;]when the dam breaks down [style=margin-left: 5px]and the city's covered in water

[/i][/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]Arthur had issues.

Love. Affection. Twisted ideals that never really made much sense to him. Given his history, though, and how others have “loved” him in the past, even when he was barely past development as a child nation, it probably wasn't necessarily odd that he had since established twisted understandings of love. He had trouble expressing it just as much as he had trouble accepting it (if he would even admit that it was 'love' in the first place.) The only reason why he didn’t reassure his capital that he would return every time he went out was because he didn’t want to accept the complications that came with their odd little relationship. He knew that she was uncomfortable with the separation, but it was also necessary for him to perform his duties, so some of the time, he simply left. But in the end, he always came back.

He blinked when Abbey began to ask questions—there was so many at a time, that he was quiet for a moment—drunkenly processing them. Silence grew and his expression failed to change, completely and unforgivably out of it. Though seeing his capital visibly upset at his statement that he didn't believe that anyone 'loved' him, something tightened in his chest—something warm and painful the longer he returned her gaze. Part of it was guilt. He could at least recognise that through his drunken haze. Though for what, he couldn’t identify. At least not now. In the end, he didn’t respond to her. He wanted to attempt to say something—anything, but his throat refused to loosen enough to allow words. It was still knotted with emotion and unshed tears.

The truth was he had a difficult time believing anyone who spoke those words to him. In those long past moments, the sentiment also seemed sincere whenever they were spoken by others—those quiet, solemn words—hidden beneath an unspoken promise. Sometimes they were declared in the most serious of situations and others in every other seemingly unimportant moment. None of them followed through to the end. Their actions, their touches, never reflected their words.

Arthur’s body stiffened suddenly when she nuzzled against his cheek and felt her lips briefly against it. His skin, far too warmed and flushed by the alcohol, prickled slightly with the touches. And he felt them everywhere. Breathing was just a touch heavier and his pulse quickened. He kept still, even as she nuzzled against his neck, causing a completely different reaction than she probably expected… or not. He was unaware that she had a bit to drink herself, but really he wasn’t the most attentive to details when this far gone… He sucked in a whisper of air close to her ear, probably a bit to quickly to be normal, when she continued to press against him.

He barely registered that Abbey began to talk again—only about half of which he caught and understood. He silently agreed with her first statements. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t even want to think about what he had lost. When she finished, his hand on the side of her leg pressed tightly against her, his thumb tracing the side of her knee. His reason was shot at this point—all he had left was the blanket of suffocating grief and his over-sensitised body pressing back against the offered warmth. His other hand at her back rose along her spine, outlining the tempting fastenings and ties with his fingers. He closed his hazy eyes, pressing the tip of his nose into her hair.

”I won’t force you to leave,” he spoke in a low whisper, the side of his slightly chapped lip barely grazing the shell of her ear. ”But it might be a good idea if you did…” He finished, reluctance weighty in his slurred tone. It was a wonder that he had managed even that. He wanted the comforting heat. He wanted something to lean into. He wanted something to touch and someone to hold.


[/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; height: 60px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]time January 1782
words 674
notes ....heh. ='D[/style][/style][/td][/tr][/table][style=font-size: 8px]made by KING of PRE & OTE[/style][/center]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 355px; background-color: #15317E; border-left: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-bottom: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-right: inset 3px #FFFFFF; -moz-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; true] I never told you I needed you darling Like a rose needs the rain Abbey had issues just like Arthur did, though hers were a little different. The girl had abandonment issues far more than she had love issues. Really, if she was honest with herself, she had never loved the other nations that had come and gone. It was more the hurt that came from being abandoned than the hurt that came with a broken heart because you loved them. She had never even expressed that she loved them, because the truth was she had never really known them all that well. None of them stayed long enough for her to really know them. They just stayed long enough for her to hope they would keep her, but then left. Ah well, it apparently wasn’t meant to be, but Arthur was different. He had come back after France left, and so far it seemed like he was staying. Sure she knew he had to leave sometimes, and accepted it, but then just wanted to see him when he came back. This time had been different, and it made her sad that he was locking himself away and just drinking until he stopped feeling. You couldn’t just go around being perpetually numb, well you could, but it sounded like a miserable existence. This was why she just wanted to try and comfort him any way she could at this point. Seeing his expression, it seemed she had slightly confused him with her questions, and wondered what he was thinking. It would seem though, that he wasn’t going to tell her, because he was remaining silent. This wasn’t exactly comforting and she pouted a bit at him for not having any sort of response. She might as well drop the subject for now then, and she sighed slightly. They could always figure out their odd little relationship later when they both sobered up a bit. She resolved to try and get an answer out of him later, but that was really more of a matter of if she would have the courage once she wasn’t drunk. Abbey did love him, or at least she was convinced she did, and really it was just a matter of getting him to accept that. This was a feat easier said than done though. Thus, why she figured she would just have to keep trying until he accepted it. Though that could take another hundred years possibly, but she wasn’t worried about it. After all, they had all the time in the world didn’t they? At least, she hoped they did. Abbey didn’t even notice that Arthur had any reaction to her nuzzling against his cheek and kissing it. The girl definitely wasn’t in the most observant of states at the moment, and thus it had been completely missed by her. Otherwise she may have asked about his reaction, but instead she nuzzled his neck and heard him suck in a breath near her ear. She spoke to him, and felt his thumb tracing on her knee as she sat comfortably with her face against his shoulder. Feeling his hand go along her spine she twitched a bit closer as she squeezed him slightly. ”That tickles.” she said simply then felt him press into her hair a bit. He was talking now though, and said that he wouldn’t make her leave. Well, that was good at least, but his next statement confused her as she felt his lips against her ear. ”But ‘m comfy.” she said with a pout against his shoulder. ”You never want to snuggle with me.” she said sadly, and made no movement to leave. The girl didn’t want to, and had no idea why it would be a good idea anyway. Leaning up a bit she nuzzled her nose against his. ”Do you really want me to leave?” she asked him pouting again. The capital didn’t want to leave, she wanted to stay and cuddle with him until they both stopped feeling so upset by the entire situation. Besides, it didn’t feel like he wanted her to leave, not with his arm around her and not pushing her away in the slightest, so unless he really expressed that he wanted her to leave, she wasn’t going to. words: 702 / tag: Rye/ Arthur /notes: Oblivious!Abbey XD [/style][style=display: none;]made by ashkir at rpg-directory.com

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://www.wallpapersgalaxy.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/111.jpg); background-repeat: repeat; font-family: georgia; color: 40434C; text-align: justify][style=float: left; margin: 10 10 10 10; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/desat_zps872d0505.png); width:100px; height:100px; -webkit-border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; border-radius: 30px][/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 25px; margin-top: 30px; font-size: 19px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em]don't let them see you cry[/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 30px; font-size: 15px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em;]when the dam breaks down [style=margin-left: 5px]and the city's covered in water

[/i][/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]If walking about in a perpetually numb state was a miserable way of existing, then Arthur was indeed, quite miserable. At least at this point in time. England was a country that experienced several highs and lows throughout the course of history—and this was his usual way of coping with the exceedingly disparaging lows. Not that he would complain about them. He never did—always painfully quiet and enduring. Whenever he was sober that was. Alcohol brought out his normally carefully hidden words. He didn’t want to feel them and he was too stubborn to confront them. He bottled them away, forcing them to fester and ache in the darkest corners of his heart. Even if they would eventually diminish with time, he would still feel them like a wound that hadn’t been properly healed through.

Arthur’s fingers pressed just a bit harder, not drastically, but most likely enough for notice, against Abbey when he saw her pout. It reminded him of another that used to pout so frequently at him in the past. With wounds still raw and his inner lining still freshly splintered, he didn’t want to see it. He wanted to cover it to make it disappear. But he remained still… unmoving and unspeaking. Arthur was even less likely to reveal the answer to her questions sober unless he had ample reason to allow her to drag out those words—bit by painful bit. He wasn’t usually one to relinquish precious information that made him feel vulnerable. It felt like showing a weakness. Empires didn’t have weaknesses… and they sure as hell couldn’t be vulnerable if they wanted to survive. As he deeply believed.

Arthur released a slow, ragged breath of involuntary contentment when he felt her move closer. He barely perceived her remark that he had tickled her. His hand continued to move slowly to the first fastening at the top of her dress, perched right at the back of her neck—his fingers slowly, almost stealthily loosening it. It was a bit comical for how plastered he was that he could still manage to do something like that. Probably from far too much unintentional practise in the past. However, even drunk, Arthur cringed at the word ‘snuggle’. Arthur never ‘snuggled’… or at least, he never would admit to doing anything of the sort… or even admit to craving the occasional affectionate touch… except in those rare moments when no one was watching, in the most obscure corners of his room where privacy was offered. She was at least completely right about that.

Temptation bloomed when Abbey moved her face close against his and that wretched pout appeared once more. His pulse felt like it had jumped up into his ears, intense and thick. Instead of answering her question, his hand that was busy at the back of her dress moved to the side of her face. A thumb moved against her jaw, tilting her face in the slightest and he closed the small gap between their alcohol heated skin, brushing his mouth against hers. Eyelids were heavy as his lips then travelled across her cheek. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly in a smirk. ”No, not really.” The slurred words were whispered against her skin before a soft, broken laugh escaped. His hand brushed up from her knee, caressing the skin there as he pulled her closer. The motion wasn’t harsh, more along the lines of a request. He wasn’t forcing her to stay, but as long as she remained, his hands continued to travel across the familiar capital, drawing simple comfort from the warm body against his.

Alcohol was always hell on emotions—forcing him to go from his more reality rooted mixture of dark grief and anger to an odd glimpse of drunken amusement to brief spots of bright spontaneity. Suffice it to say… he could be a bit unpredictable.

[/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; height: 60px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]time January 1782
words 650
notes no excuses for him. x)[/style][/style][/td][/tr][/table][style=font-size: 8px]made by KING of PRE & OTE[/style][/center]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 355px; background-color: #15317E; border-left: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-bottom: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-right: inset 3px #FFFFFF; -moz-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; true] I never told you I needed you darling Like a rose needs the rain She could vaguely feel him pressing his fingers harder against her back and she was confused as to why. Abbey didn’t realize that it was because of her pouting, and that it was reminding him of someone else who pouted often. If he had told her that, she may have tried to stop it, but for now she continued to do so. He never talked to her about anything, and she kind of wished he would sometimes. Though, really she had no room to talk because she didn’t really talk to him about things either. They were both pretty closed off when it came to things they were dealing with. Really she would rather talk about it, but knew Arthur wouldn’t want to hear it, and so usually kept it to herself. The only time she really complained was when he left for long periods of time. She particularly hated it when he left, and he very much knew that, or at least thought he did. It was pretty obvious from the way she acted when he tried to leave or when he came back from wherever he had been. Usually though he didn’t just blatantly ignore her, and she knew he was upset, but still it was getting to the point of ridiculous with him just ignoring the entire world. He had politics to attend to and such after all, he couldn’t just lay about drunk after all. Or well, she did suppose that technically he could, but the boss might frown upon that. She could still feel his hand moving up her back and twitched a bit more because it really did tickle. Though then he stopped and she didn’t realize what it was he was doing. It just, kind of, felt like he was playing with one of the fastenings on the back of her dress. What she hadn’t realized, was that he had undone one of them, but that was more because she was kind of drunk and feeling relatively unobservant. Besides, she was focusing more on his expression than what his hands were doing. Then he cringed when she mentioned never wanting to snuggle and she frowned slightly. Even drunk he didn’t want to snuggle apparently. That was just too bad for him, because he was getting snuggles whether he liked it or not because she wasn’t about to leave. Though really that wasn’t what he had meant when he said she should probably leave, and she was definitely unaware of such. Still, she knew he never wanted to snuggle, and she supposed she would have to deal with that. Thus she would just have to force him occasionally. Abbey was nuzzling her nose against his, and then suddenly she had a hand on her face. The capital felt him tilt her face and was a bit confused until he kissed her. Then, of course, she blushed and continued to do so as his lips moved across her cheek. She heard that he didn’t really want her to leave and smiled. ”It didn’t feel like you did.” she said with a slight smile before complying with the request of moving closer. Now she was about as close as she could be with her knees pressed into the back of the couch and her arms around his neck. Abbey placed another kiss on his cheek before placing a kiss on his lips. Hey, he kissed her first, and now she was playing along to see where that went. After all, she had rather liked the kiss, and wanted another one right at the moment. Besides, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Though, really her reasoning was a bit out the window at this point. words: 621 / tag: Rye/ Arthur /notes: psh. kisses. :3 [/style][style=display: none;]made by ashkir at rpg-directory.com

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://www.wallpapersgalaxy.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/111.jpg); background-repeat: repeat; font-family: georgia; color: 40434C; text-align: justify][style=float: left; margin: 10 10 10 10; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/desat_zps872d0505.png); width:100px; height:100px; -webkit-border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; border-radius: 30px][/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 25px; margin-top: 30px; font-size: 19px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em]don't let them see you cry[/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 30px; font-size: 15px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em;]when the dam breaks down [style=margin-left: 5px]and the city's covered in water

[/i][/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]
Arthur didn’t mind too much whenever Abbey expressed what she was feeling… he just probably wouldn’t reciprocate with his own personal musings. Those things were better left unsaid—at least, that was his reasoning. Abbey wasn’t alone, however. Arthur rarely ever opened up to anyone, though his capital was probably the closest thing that he had to a confidant. As it should be, really. She would be right in her guess that he knew that she hated it in particular whenever he left, which he did quite frequently these days and it would get a bit worse now that he had lost Alfred. Arthur was going to grow into his own—an Empire that would stretch across the world. He wasn’t quite there yet, but he was determined to reach that level in due time.

He still carried the loss of Alfred in his heart like splinters that were far too difficult to be removed. And there those little reminders would always remain… eventually closed over and locked away, but always festering like a half-healed gash with every vague mention of how yet another had left him behind. Arthur was truly sick of others telling him that they loved him when they never really loved him at all. What made the entire affair worse was the fact that Alfred was the only one in the string of others who Arthur actually held true affection for. What he had for him was too complicated to describe. Perhaps there wasn’t even really a word to wholly define how someone could care so deeply for another.

Arthur hadn’t even looked at, let alone touched his work since coming back from the loss. His King had yet to contact him, though if England were to be honest, he was sure that George was going through his own motions—more resentment and rage than anything. While Arthur did feel traces of those as well, he was much more heartbroken than he cared to let the world know. A fresh tract of silent tears escaped when his cheek was pressed against the side of Abbey’s face, his mouth pressed against her throat. The wetness felt hot and unpleasant against his skin. They mingled with other incidents from the past that had also never been properly dealt with. It always felt like there was a hot, bundled mulch of sickness inside him, always trying to break free. A bit of that was finally leaking through with the encouragement of alcohol and a warm touch. Somehow it was easier to release them when he felt like the world couldn’t see him. Empires didn’t have weaknesses…

He could feel her cheek growing slightly warm against his lips from the blush. For a split moment, the internal ache was forgotten and Arthur felt just a tad bit closer to being typically ridiculously drunk as opposed to being a dejected, ridiculous drunk… The brief heat of desire trickled through his veins when she kissed him back, but it was enough to push his barely present reason off the edge. The tip of his tongue brushed lightly against her bottom lip before pushing up slightly between the indent. His breath was warm and laced with the heaviness of alcohol between them as his mouth tugged softly at her bottom lip, attempting to encourage her into a deeper kiss. The reason and thinking was completely gone and in its place was simple, hard-driven need for a frenzied distraction. His hands wandered up her sides, his fingers touching and caressing. Even with the layers of cloth between them, it was nice having her pressed up against him and he wanted more.


[/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; height: 60px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]time January 1782
words 607
notes yepp[/style][/style][/td][/tr][/table][style=font-size: 8px]made by KING of PRE & OTE[/style][/center]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 355px; background-color: #15317E; border-left: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-bottom: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-right: inset 3px #FFFFFF; -moz-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; true] I never told you I needed you darling Like a rose needs the rain Abbey knew that Arthur was unlikely to express his feelings back when she did so, and had accepted that about him. It was just something she had gotten used to over the years. After all, they had been together now for quite some time. Yes they were close, but neither were all that great at talking about their feelings. There was still some sort of slight tension between them at times, and neither had ever been good at expression. Sure she tried sometimes, but usually she just kind of let things play out however they did regardless of what her emotional reaction would normally be. Hey, sometimes you just couldn’t react to things in an emotional manner. It wasn’t good for the whole of your country or capital or whatever you were. There were times when it was much better to just step back and think about things before deciding how to react. It was logical, but not usually the way things worked. Though her requirement of company wasn’t a logical reaction, but it was a learned one. She had learned that when people left they didn’t come back, and because she was so young that was almost impossible to break that mentality now. The capital did wish that he could take her with him at times though. That wouldn’t make it so bad if she got to go every so often rather than being stuck in the house by herself every time. Abbey could feel the tears on her face while his cheek was pressed near against hers. It was hard not to feel it, but she said nothing. It was always better to say nothing when it came to emotional times like this between the two of them. She reached up and petted his hair a bit as a gesture of comfort. There were far better ways to deal with it than this, but she wasn’t sure what to do. So she would just try and comfort him the best she could and hope he was alright. Though, really she was also blushing too from the kiss he placed on her cheek. She wasn’t used to such affection, and while it may be the alcohol, she didn’t mind it either. She liked affection, and it was rare that she got it. Though, she did try to give it to at least Arthur despite his apparent dislike for such things. Ah well, he just had to deal with it, and it seemed that he did most of the time. Occasionally she apparently would go a little over the top with it, and was made to stop, but usually she could tell before the fact if she was getting a little overly affectionate. That was only when he came home after long trips though, but this time he had ignored her, so now she wanted to just squish him with affection for the rest of the night. After all, there wasn’t much he could really do to stop her at the moment. She had kissed him back and then blushed more when she felt the tip of his tongue brushing against her lips. Then felt him tugging softly on her bottom lip and wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel his hands moving, and made no attempt to stop him as her tongue brushed lightly against his. Honestly, she had never really gotten involved with anyone like she was currently involved with her country, and so technically had no idea what she was doing. She’d just go with whatever he was doing and see where that ended up. Probably not the best plan of action, but it would work out right? They both probably tasted like alcohol at this point, being that both were drunk, and neither seemed to really mind at the moment. Her tongue moved lightly against his upper lip as she kissed him a bit deeper. words: 651 / tag: Rye/ Arthur /notes: omnom [/style][style=display: none;]made by ashkir at rpg-directory.com

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://www.wallpapersgalaxy.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/111.jpg); background-repeat: repeat; font-family: georgia; color: 40434C; text-align: justify][style=float: left; margin: 10 10 10 10; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/desat_zps872d0505.png); width:100px; height:100px; -webkit-border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; border-radius: 30px][/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 25px; margin-top: 30px; font-size: 19px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em]don't let them see you cry[/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 30px; font-size: 15px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em;]when the dam breaks down [style=margin-left: 5px]and the city's covered in water

[/i][/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]
Wet eyes were unfortunately not uncommon for a plastered Arthur--especially when he was feeling as awful as he currently was. He didn't even make a move to wipe them away, an account to how far gone he was… Instead, he rubbed his cheek briefly against hers. Really, there was nothing that anyone could do whenever he was in this state. Better just to allow him to go through the motions. Reason was obviously out the window and being trampled on. He could only sink into the comforting warmth, the caresses, and the half-hearted glances. Arthur had his very rare, odd moments of showing affection whenever he was too drunk to care about anything else. It showed in the slow way that he sometimes ran his fingers against his partner's skin or press quietly into their side. Those sorts of moments for Arthur were always silent and heated… so lonely.

Abbey's cheek grew warm--he noticed, while briefly skimming his lips softly across the flushed skin once more. It wasn't that he disliked affection; it was that he didn't trust the motives behind a seemingly gentle hand. Arthur hadn't learned gentleness from anyone when he was a child and, in turn, he rarely showed it to others as a growing Empire. Alfred was the exception… Alfred was the first whom Arthur had ever shown genuine, outward affection towards without the filthy political complications. That was real.

The thought of Alfred made his chest tighten and he tightened his grip on Abbey. "..bleeding world. I hate it.. I hate it... never gives me a fucking chance... never follows through... n' in the end, he regrets choosing me and goes with fucking France instead... n' he hates me... just like everyone else in this sodding, God-damned, fucking world… I hate it," words are half coherent, but they're angry, hurt, slurred, and the tears continue to stain his heated cheeks. In that drunken, angry moment, he wanted to lash back, hurt them all for all the pain that he had ever received. The world could burn. He would hold it by the throat and never give it a fucking inch.

Furious, violent mental ramblings were interrupted when Abbey wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close and kissing him back. He made a small, low noise in the back of his throat. Desire flaring in him when her tongue brush against his upper lip. Opening his mouth just a little, he pushed forward, dominating the kiss, pressing his tongue insistently and without request against hers. He moved slowly, but firmly, non-verbally giving her instruction in how to move, how to kiss properly. He'd done it so often with so many that it was second nature. Even drunk, Arthur could spontaneously make the switch from throwing around angry words to pleasuring someone, as that's how half of his liaisons normally went.

With hands tightening against her waist, briefly, he reversed their positions, so that she was the one being pressed into the sofa. Arthur loomed over her, settling somewhere between her sprawled legs, his fingers went back to dragging nonsensical patterns against the backs of her thighs, hidden beneath her skirts. With one arm poised above her head, he steadied himself over Abbey, an amused, ‘privateer'-sort-of smile twisting his lips. It was an odd sight matched with tear-stained cheeks and blotchy eyes. Leaning forward, he pressed his body indulgently against hers. "Still don't want to leave me, darling?" A breathy, drunken chuckle. Arthur nibbled along her jaw. "Just like everyone else. Tear me to pieces... and leave me to bleed in the mud." A slurred whisper with a hint of a shaded smile, mock amused like a drunken, jaded fool, between kisses against her throat. He paused to lick a long, slow trail up to her ear before sucking and pressing the edge of his teeth across her earlobe. His palm continued to rub tender circles against the back of her thigh.
[/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; height: 60px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]time January 1782
words 649
notes >>;;; uh...yep.[/style][/style][/td][/tr][/table][style=font-size: 8px]made by KING of PRE & OTE[/style][/center]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 355px; background-color: #15317E; border-left: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-bottom: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-right: inset 3px #FFFFFF; -moz-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; true] I never told you I needed you darling Like a rose needs the rain Feeling Arthur cry against her cheek was hard. She didn’t like it when he was so upset because she just didn’t know what to do with him. All she could really do was offer hugs, and if he wanted to talk she’d listen. Not that he ever did, but then again neither did she. So maybe it was better this way. Just holding onto him until he felt better, and maybe letting him know that he wasn’t all alone. She would be there until he forced her to leave, and she meant that truly. The capital petted his hair and tried to rub some tears from the cheek not against her face. Though that didn’t mean she wasn’t still blushing from his lips moving across her cheek. Certainly that wasn’t what she was expecting, and it was much softer than she thought Arthur to normally be. The blonde felt his grip tighten on her and ran her hands through his hair. He was speaking again, and he was angry and she could feel the tears falling against her cheek. She wiped more of them away and tried to comfort him the best she could. It was one thing comforting a child, but someone their age was another thing entirely. The girl really didn’t know what he wanted her to say, or if he just wanted her to keep quiet and silently agree with him. The problem with that was that she didn’t agree with him. After all, she certainly didn’t hate him, not anymore at least. When he left her she did, but he actually came back for her when nobody else had. That meant a lot more than she would ever really say too. ”I don’t hate you.” she said softly and placed a kiss on his cheek lightly. She was sure there were others who didn’t, but wasn’t about to start listing people when she wasn’t sure what others felt towards him. The girl knew what she felt, and so she could at least try comforting him with that. She also wasn’t about to try and convince him that Alfred didn’t hate him, because she honestly wasn’t entirely sure about that. There was also the fact that he probably wouldn’t believe her anyway, and she didn’t really want to bring him up more than necessary right now. After all, that was just asking for trouble and she really didn’t want to get kicked out. He had just let her in, and she didn’t want to ruin that by saying something about Alfred and having him get horribly upset with her over it. Especially with how drunk he was, and how drunk she was. Saying much of anything could be taken the wrong way. What she needed was to distract him, and so she kissed him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel his tongue moving against hers and followed what he was doing. Abbey could feel herself blushing again as the kiss continued and she pushed her tongue against his more. One of her hands moved more through his hair while she kissed him. Then hands tightened against her waist and suddenly she was being moved. The girl gave a slightly surprised squeak as the kiss was interrupted and he ended up on top of her. The smile he was giving her confused the girl a bit and she reached up to wipe the tears from his cheek with a slight smile in return. They didn’t need to be there, and so she was just going to brush them away. His hand on the back of her thigh was also quite distracting at the moment and she would be lying if she didn’t say she rather liked the feeling. As he pressed his body against hers she blushed a bit more and wrapped her arms around his neck. When he asked if she still didn’t want to leave she traced spirals on the back of his neck with a fingertip and gave a slight frown. ”Never. Not unless you…ah force me.” she said getting a little side tracked as he kissed against her throat. Her head tilted back to let him do so more and sucked in a breath when he licked up to her ear. She tilted her face to the side as he nibbled on her earlobe and tried to pull him closer to her. words: 732 / tag: Rye/ Arthur /notes: bwee~ [/style][style=display: none;]made by ashkir at rpg-directory.com

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://www.wallpapersgalaxy.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/111.jpg); background-repeat: repeat; font-family: georgia; color: 40434C; text-align: justify][style=float: left; margin: 10 10 10 10; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/desat_zps872d0505.png); width:100px; height:100px; -webkit-border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; border-radius: 30px][/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 25px; margin-top: 30px; font-size: 19px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em]don't let them see you cry[/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 30px; font-size: 15px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em;]when the dam breaks down [style=margin-left: 5px]and the city's covered in water

[/i][/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]
His head felt heavy and it reflected in his thoughts and sluggish movements. He couldn’t focus on any one thing for too long at the moment, but feeling was easy. He felt an odd sort of calm when Abbey’s fingers brushed through his hair—his mind settled, hazy and warm, and he nearly forgot about why he had started drinking in the first place. Well, that’s the point of starting this entire bloody thing, wasn't it? So, he didn’t dwell on that. Instead, he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes briefly, and feeling the contentment of nothingness seep into his skin. And soon, he also felt the humiliating wetness on his cheeks being brushed away. Despite the usual obstinate part of Arthur that refused to be quelled so easily, he began to calm. Part of it was he was just too damned sloshed to care at this point.

An askew, wry expression tightened over his face when he heard Abbey tell him that she didn’t hate him. He nearly scoffed at that, but didn't... Colour darkened his face when she pressed a light, innocent kiss against his cheek. His chest grew warm and his fingers began to caress the side of her thigh, occasionally curling his fingers down the back of her knee. Silence and simple statements were good for him at this point—as liquor was too thick in his bloodstream to really entertain the notion of anything more. ”It doesn’t matter. They can hate me,” he chuckled against her skin before the slurred mumbles continued. ”I’ll make them loathe me to the ends of the Earth after I’m through with them.”

Yes… distraction was good… as he really was starting to make very little sense with his words. Well, actually, drunk-Arthur thought that he made perfect sense. But the words weren’t coherently matching his thoughts, so of course, anyone listening to his ramblings probably hadn’t the faintest clue what he was going on about… There was substance to his ramblings... He just needed to be sober to properly explain what the hell he meant by them. If he could remember, that is. Arthur’s glassy eyed stare hardened with resolve, noticing the slightly confused smile that Abbey had given him as he pressed against her. The hand at her thigh inched the underlying petticoat and shift higher as fingers skimmed along her bare skin. Drunkenness generally didn’t hinder him from going through the motions of undressing a woman (or a man), partial or complete, depending on the time and place. He had done it often enough… even when only half aware.

The smallest shivers crawl up his spine when he felt her touches and heard her hitched breath as she pulled him closer. His lips moved lower from her ear, mouthing the side of her throat once more, beneath her jaw, biting the skin softly. A wandering hand skimmed up her waist, brushing along the edges of the bodice before slowly loosening it from her body. He laughed lowly against her throat when he heard her response, vaguely noticing all the red marks he’s made so far. ”I won’t force you to leave.” He raised his head, eyes seeking hers.

By nation standards, Arthur was beginning to phase out of his "teenage" stage and was historically, slowly growing into something a little more. However, this didn't negate his still burning recklessness. Arthur wouldn't regret this... though he may have the slightest bit of hesitation over the fact that Abbey's first time was going to be on the sofa... while drunk. Overall, however, little shame.

When he loosens the bodice enough, he runs his calloused hand beneath the fabric, brushing against her stomach, but not quite taking it off. In a weird, inebriated way, he's waiting for her consent before going further, which Arthur doesn't normally do in most in-the-moment affairs, but he's still aware that this is Abbey and not some back-alley trollop... He leans forward, tongue tracing her bottom lip, before retreating millimetres away. "I want you..." Closing the distance, he pressed his mouth hard against hers, still wet with his saliva before continuing. "Will you have me?" The question is breathy and slurred. It's remarkable that he's even being this coherent, but there's still a deeply embedded, semi-conscious part of him that refuses to continue with her without so much as a request. Go figure.
[/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; height: 60px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]time January 1782
words 729
notes xD[/style][/style][/td][/tr][/table][style=font-size: 8px]made by KING of PRE & OTE[/style][/center]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 355px; background-color: #15317E; border-left: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-bottom: inset 3px #FFFFFF; border-right: inset 3px #FFFFFF; -moz-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px; true] I never told you I needed you darling Like a rose needs the rain Abbey did give a slight smile as she saw him blushing when she placed a light kiss on his cheek. At least she wasn’t the only one now, so it was less awkward for her. It was only a little, but still it did help, and besides it did look like he was calming down quite a bit. That was the entire point of coming in here wasn’t it? Just to get him to calm down and stop drinking himself into a coma. It would seem, that she had mostly accomplished that actually, and was rather amazed she had. He hadn’t exactly made it easy on her after all, and besides maybe now he could start being less miserable again. Hearing him speak she continued to pet his hair. ”Who cares what they think? To hell with them.” she said with a slight smile. She didn’t hate him, and right now that was the thing that mattered wasn’t it? At least, she hoped it was, because it looked like he was either starting to get better or maybe it was just the alcohol making him forget. Either way, she was perfectly okay with that, and would just deal with anything else in the morning when he sobered up. As his hand moved higher, she found herself blushing again. Her fingers were tracing patterns on the back of his neck, and she could feel him shiver as she did so. All she wanted right now was him for to be closer to her, and he seemed to comply with that wish. His lips her moving again and she found it quite distracting. If she said she wasn’t enjoying this, then she would be horribly lying, and so she wouldn’t be saying it. Feeling the bites she gave a light squeak in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to bite, but it didn’t hurt. Was just a shock was all. The capital could feel him loosening her bodice and blushed more. Were they really going to do this then? She idly wondered if she would regret her first time being on the couch in the morning. Certainly she wouldn’t regret it being with Arthur, that much she wasn’t really concerned about. Hearing him speak she smiled at him and locked her eyes with him. Maybe she should leave, but she didn’t want to. All she wanted was for him to stop being so sad all the time, and if he let her stay with him then she would. ”Then I’m not going anywhere.” she said simply with another smile at him. She could suddenly feel his hand against her stomach and continued to play with his hair. She idly wondered if there was something else she was supposed to be doing actually, but was too shy to ask. After all, she kind of figured if he wanted her to do something specific then he would just say. Though, really there was something she sort of wanted to do right at the moment. Blushing a bit more she moved her hands and started, slightly shakily, unbuttoning his shirt. The girl was drunk after all, so it really wasn’t a surprise she would be having some trouble with such. Though then Arthur derailed her concentration by tracing his tongue across her bottom lip. Her eyes looked back up at his and she noted how close his face was at that moment. He stated that he wanted her, and then kissed her hard and she did her best to kiss back in the moments before he pulled away to speak again. He was asking, if she wanted him? She was actually a little surprised by that. Abbey could feel her face warming up again as she contemplated what the question implied exactly. She slipped her hands under the unbuttoned portion of his shirt and onto his shoulders with a slight smile. ”Yes, I will.” she replied before pulling him into another kiss. ”Shouldn’t we….move to a bedroom maybe?” she suggested with a blush. She doubted they would really want to walk there after, and she wasn’t exactly partial to sleeping on the couch either way. words: 732 / tag: Rye/ Arthur /notes: bwee~ [/style][style=display: none;]made by ashkir at rpg-directory.com

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://www.wallpapersgalaxy.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/111.jpg); background-repeat: repeat; font-family: georgia; color: 40434C; text-align: justify][style=float: left; margin: 10 10 10 10; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/desat_zps872d0505.png); width:100px; height:100px; -webkit-border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; border-radius: 30px][/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 25px; margin-top: 30px; font-size: 19px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em]don't let them see you cry[/style][style=float: right; margin-right: 30px; font-size: 15px; color: EEEEEE; text-shadow: 999999 .1em .1em .3em;]when the dam breaks down [style=margin-left: 5px]and the city's covered in water

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Arthur was a bit odd when it came to showing and receiving affection. It changed with the decades. If he was brutally honest with himself, he wasn’t shy about anything of the sort. He was, perhaps, only a bit of a prig when it was either expected of him or when proper society demanded it. For the most part, he was far from the blushing virgin from centuries back. Hardly ready or mature enough back then to have been introduced to the pleasures that other nations tended to indulge in. Francis was his first, as he was the first for many things in Arthur’s unfortunate, abrupt introduction into the world of continental Europe. Arthur never talked about that. That was a time that he’d rather forget—a string of experiences with Francis that spanned over several agonising decades. Probably the precursor for their notorious rivalry. His animosity towards the Frenchman ran deep. As much as their relationship seemed petty and perplexing to most, the pained roots were real. Drunken reminisces such as these flitted through Arthur’s mind as he allowed Abbey to touch him, to run her fingers through his hair. He released a breathy laugh against her throat when he heard her reply. ”Precisely,” he muttered into her skin, his liquor-induced smile spreading. ”If they want it, I’ll bloody well give it to them.”

Before he had decided to test the durability of his liver that evening, Arthur was drawing up plans to make his next move on the world, owning and conquering and exploiting the hell out of it. Most already hated him with a passion and he had absolutely nothing to lose at this point. So he was going to be the damned Empire that he was meant to be before getting involved with the aforementioned good-for-nothing-nonsense-of-a-fucking-colony. Nothing was going to touch him like that again. For the moment; however, he wanted to drunkenly lose himself in Abbey. And she seemed more than receptive to him, which only fueled his resolve. He felt the familiar fire warming his excited body. Touches grew bolder and his skin already felt fevered beneath her fingers. There was a certain shyness to his capital that both surprised and intrigued him. Of course, drunk-Arthur was not really giving this too much thought, but the idea still frayed the corners of his mind. He supposed a part of him had always known that she’d remained untouched throughout the years… but it was still a bit of a shock, considering who her captors were. Still, Arthur was secretly glad that she had never been subjected to the same sort of torment that the likes of Francis had long ago inflicted on him. For that, at least, he was relieved.

Arthur had to bite his already abused lip to keep himself from chuckling as Abbey’s fingers had a bit of trouble with the buttons on his shirt. Everything was much more amusing than usual. Liquor did have its bright points, after all. His own fingers also felt clumsy and useless as he began to unbutton from the bottom as she worked on the top. A fierce shiver travelled across his skin when Abbey’s hand slipped beneath his shirt and up his shoulders. He took that moment to shrug out of it. Glazed eyes stared back at the capital’s reddened cheeks with his question. He grinned very slightly at that—far more devious than innocent. Hearing her consent and being pulled into another kiss, another sort of heat spread beneath his skin, urgent and heavier than before. As he was used to doing, he took control, deepening it, brushing his tongue against the smooth underside of her lip. Tasting and savouring.

Arthur pulled back, his breath unsteady when he heard Abbey’s suggestion. His mind was slow to realise what she was asking. First there was the drunken confusion over why the sofa or the floor were unsuitable options… but that passed just as quickly as the thought was formed. For those who had the misfortune of knowing beforehand, Arthur had a rather unsettling reputation for having sex in the oddest of places—wherever was most convenient, really. Especially in his privateering days. Bent over the crate or pressed into the dark corners of the ship were as good as any options. But he could do traditional, especially given that this would be her first. ”If you’d like,” Arthur slurred, brushing his mouth from her lip across her cheek once more before moving away, already missing the contact.

He stumbled as he attempted to stand, the side of his boot forcing an empty bottle to roll across the floor. Teeth sunk into the side of his mouth as he concentrated on standing without toppling over again. After he was steady, he stood still, waiting for the dangerous vertigo to pass. He reached over to assist Abbey, though it’s a wonder if that was really any help at all. The fumbled walk to the bedroom felt far longer than it should, but that was only because he felt like he was leaning against the wall to stop that sickening falling-feeling from taking over. There was a bit of relief as he felt the familiar wood of his door and he fumbled with the handle, his other hand wandering across Abbey’s arm.

[/style][/style][style=float: left; margin-left: 10px; width: 380px; height: 60px; background-color: FFFFFF; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px][style=padding: 10 15 10 15; opacity: 1.0; font-size: 10px]time January 1782
words 864
notes xD[/style][/style][/td][/tr][/table][style=font-size: 8px]made by KING of PRE & OTE[/style][/center]