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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Jan 29, 2011 13:56:02 GMT -5
Alfred sighed for what might’ve been the umpteenth time that evening, flipping yet another page of his useless Biology book. Studying was not his strong suit, not to mention it was so utterly and completely boring. There was nothing fun about sitting in a dark, deserted dorm lounge on a far too big for one person couch by yourself on a Saturday night reading up on the difference between plant and animal cells.
This wasn’t how Alfred F. Jones normally spent his weekends, oh, no. Any other Saturday night, he’d be found in his room, happy as can be, munching on popcorn, watching some low-rated action movie with endless amounts of swearing. He might even be playing a video game, maybe spending time with his brother, maybe out with the team busting some Shadow heads.. but no, this weekend was the weekend right before the Monday of his big ‘40% of your term grade’ Biology test.
As much as Alfred’s pride screamed otherwise, he desperately needed some tutoring in this subject, someone to explain the difficult parts to him at least. After all, Biology was usually the class in which his brain was fried from the rest of the day. Not to mention the fact that several of his Basketball buddies were in that class, so he tended to not pay as much attention to most of the things the teacher said.
The only issue with this was that everyone was probably asleep or just busy with their own stuff, namely Matt, who would probably have been the person he'd ask.
But there was always Arthur. Arthur might be awake. Arthur was the bookworm, maybe the most studious person in the dorm he knew of, set aside Kiku. He'd likely still be awake reading something Alfred wouldn't dare to touch, or maybe doing some studying himself. It couldn't hurt to offer to study together, right?
On this whim, after a rather brief, paranoid journey up the stairs, Alfred found himself standing in front of the older student’s door. He bit his lip, glancing around at the dark hallway that loomed around him. Only as he finally reached out and knocked did he find himself wondering why it was Arthur who instantly came to mind.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jan 29, 2011 16:33:17 GMT -5
It was absolutely no surprise - to anyone, really - that Arthur Kirkland loved books. He sooner reached for a copy of Thomas Kyd's The Spanish Tragedy or William Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing than a football - real football, mind you, not American football -, and much preferred to sit down with Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice or Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities in his hands rather than go out to watch a movie.
(That isn't to say that he hated sports or taking a day off to watch a movie. He did like football (or, as Americans called it, soccer), and there were some films that most certainly caught his eye. It was just a matter of finding someone to play with, or someone to watch with.)
But, yes - books. Though Arthur had no qualms with reading a non-fiction book, he honestly preferred fiction. And though he did enjoy the wide array of genres that was provided to him, his favorite was (had been, would always be) romance. There was precious little else that caught his interest so quickly, moved him so deeply, and made him utterly happy and yet utterly miserable at the same time, as a good romance novel.
(Miserable, because he never failed to recognize the sharp contrast between his life and the lives of the characters in the books. One was dull, lonely, and quiet; the other was lively, full of bright colors and sounds, and engulfed in love and friendship. It was almost second nature to him, now, to mock himself, just to make himself feel better - and that much more pathetic.)
In any case, his preference and love for books was what led him to stay up into the late hours of the night, reading and sipping his slowly cooling tea rather than slipping into the bed to sleep. He was in the middle of re-reading Jane Eyre when a knock on his door resounded, jarring him from the sweet tale of Jane and Edward. Immediately, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the door, wondering just who would come to him at this time, when most people were sleeping.
With a small sigh, Arthur marked his page, setting the book aside before standing up and opening the door. "Y--" he began, but paused before he could even finish that mere word upon seeing who it was. "...Alfred?"
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Feb 1, 2011 13:06:54 GMT -5
"Uh, y-yo, dude!" The American greeted excitedly, almost shocked that Arthur actually opened the door, but nevertheless, making sure to flash him his most charming and grateful smile. Upon glancing into the room behind him, he caught sight of a book set to the side, one the older student was obviously preoccupied with just moments before.
Pfft, knew it.
"So, um.. what're you up to, Arthur?" He laughed, leaning against the door frame. "You busy?"
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Feb 1, 2011 13:53:03 GMT -5
Arthur arched an eyebrow, briefly going through a mental checklist of reasons that could've brought Alfred to him at this hour of the night. The most logical answer would probably be that the American was looking for someone to watch a horror movie with, but that thought went out the window once he caught sight of the Biology book.
"If you need help with Biology, I'm free," he replied. "If it's something else, then yes, I'm quite busy."
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Feb 1, 2011 14:50:35 GMT -5
Alfred's mouth fell open slightly. He was about to question how Arthur could know that he'd needed help with Biology, then remembered he'd brought his book with him.
"Oh!" He began laughing again, scratching the back of his neck. "It's not exactly that I need help, y' know? Just kinda' boring to study this stuff on your own! Especially in the lounge. It's all dark and quiet and.." He trailed off, shaking his head to get himself back on track, a wide grin appearing on his features. "So, um, you do wanna' study with me? Great!"
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Feb 1, 2011 15:36:52 GMT -5
"Then why-- ah," He should've figured that one out. "So in other words, you're too scared to study alone." Arthur couldn't help but smile a bit in amusement as he stepped aside, allowing Alfred entrance into his room. "Come on in, then; just try not to make too much noise."
For a brief moment, he couldn't help but feel rather self-conscious about his room. Was there anything out that shouldn't be out? Arthur glanced back quickly, praying that everything was in place. From what he could see, they were.
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Feb 13, 2011 12:55:55 GMT -5
"I-I'm not scared!" The American was quick to defend, a pout forming on his features. "It was just.. well, I wasn't lonely, just.. whatever, dude. You're crazy."
Alfred moseyed on in unceremoniously, making his way over to bed, not hesitating to plop down at the end and make himself comfortable. He patted beside him, gesturing for the other to follow before pulling his legs up and crossing them. "So, Arty, you any good with mitosis? 'Cause it hates me."
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Feb 15, 2011 14:08:36 GMT -5
Arthur rolled his eyes, closing the door after Alfred entered. (If he had to be honest, though, it took some effort to will away the small smile that threatened to follow soon after.) "Of course you weren't," he replied, walking over and sitting down a respectable distance away from the American. "And I knew enough to pass the class with an A."
He then took the book from Alfred's hands, flipping past a few pages before he finally found the chapter dealing with cell division. "What don't you understand about mitosis?" he asked, glancing over the page before looking up at Alfred. "It's a process. You start with one eukaryotic cell, and the chromosomes in the nucleus separates into two identical sets of nuclei. There's 8 phases - interphase, preprophase, prophase, prometaphase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase, and cytokinesis. Do you know what those are?"
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Feb 17, 2011 16:37:34 GMT -5
Alfred stared blankly at Arthur as he spoke, not paying full attention to what he was saying and instead focusing on the fascinating forest green color of his eyes. He'd never seen such pretty eyes before, now that he thought about it. Not that he'd say that out loud, of course.
Upon realizing the other had finished speaking, he jolted out of his daze.
"Um, well, I sorta' have trouble remembering what happens in each and every stage. I could prolly' lay the whole process out if I had to, but not by stage. I think I just need a bit of help with the order."
The blond was now rocking back and forth, aimlessly thumbing the corner of the Biology book's page.
"And that stuff's all fine and dandy once I get the hang of it, but.." He began, cocking his head to the side in confusion, a habit he never really realized he had. "Why the heck are they called 'daughter cells' and not 'son cells'? 'Cause that doesn't make sense to me. I got marked down on my quiz for putting 'son cells'. Why does it matter?"
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Feb 17, 2011 19:24:40 GMT -5
Arthur hummed, trying to think of a way to simplify the process. "Well, first and foremost, preprophase only happens in plant cells." He flipped the page, where there was a diagram of the entire process. "Now, assuming that you really do know the entire process as a whole, we just need to find out your method of memorization. For example, you can remember that anaphase is when the chromosomes start separating, because they're pulled apart. Anaphase, pulled aapart," he said, stressing the 'A's. "Metaphase, when the chromosomes align in the middle. Metaphase, middle. Telophase, when the microtubules disappear and cell division begins... well, think of 'tata' - you know, another word for goodbye. Telophase, tata. Does that make any sense?"
He paused, then, and looked at Alfred again. There was really no way he could lie to himself and deny that Alfred looked cute with his head tilted like that, but he tried anyway. Needless to say, he failed, and it took him a while to remember the American's second question.
"And I don't know why they call it daughter cells. It might be because females reproduce, and males don't, but don't quote me on that."
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Feb 19, 2011 11:48:12 GMT -5
Alfred, much in contrast to how he paid minimal mind to his teachers in class, took extra care to take everything in, immensely impressed at how easily the other broke down the process. He proceeded to pull a pen from his pocket. With a look of deep concentration, his tongue sticking out, he rolled up his left sleeve. As neatly as he could, he marked down the important parts of Arthur's lecture on his arm. Anaphase - apart, metaphase - middle and so on.
"Dude, you have way too much time on your hands, or something! You should be a teacher!" He laughed as he was finishing.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Feb 20, 2011 22:25:49 GMT -5
If Arthur had to be honest, Alfred looked adorable when he was writing notes and studying. But this was one of the times when being honest was just... unacceptable, so he settled with being impressed. He honestly hadn't thought the other was capable of being diligent, but he supposed he was proven wrong.
"I just know how to manage my time, idiot," Arthur replied, frowning. "I just study during the two hours it takes for you to watch a movie, or... whatever else it is that you do."
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Feb 20, 2011 23:57:30 GMT -5
Alfred pouted and pulled his sleeve back down.
"Aww, c'mon, man. I complement you and you go and call me an idiot? Couldn't kill you to say something nicer. I dunno', like.." The blond trailed off, looking deep in thought for a brief moment, then beamed. "Oh, you could admit I'm awesome! Like you secretly think in your head!"
As much as he liked to believe otherwise, he had no idea how Arthur actually felt about him. One minute he was insulting him, calling him an idiot, a git or a prat, the next he was nagging at him to eat healthier or do his homework, almost like he cared.
It proved difficult, but he tried his best to ignore how more often than not, it seemed like Arthur was overall angry or frustrated with him, just for being him.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Feb 21, 2011 4:39:00 GMT -5
"You aren't, and I don't," Arthur replied dryly, even though... well, Alfred actually was a bit 'awesome', sometimes. (Alright, perhaps 'awesome' wasn't quite the term he was looking for, but...) That was something he'd never admit, though, if only because doing so would stoke Alfred's ego, and who knew how many people did that already? ...Not that he was jealous, or anything, but really, people paid the American idiot too much attention, soemtimes...!
(Okay. So maybe he was a bit jealous, but it was only a little bit. Like... very, very little. It was such an insignificant amount that it shouldn't even matter, much less come to mind.)
"Not to mention that was hardly a compliment," Arthur continued on. "But, thank you. You..." A pause, the briefest flash of hesitance, "...may not be 'awesome', and you may be loud and obnoxious and sometimes a bit too daft, but... overall, you're... pleasant company. At least, most of the time."
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Feb 22, 2011 12:59:11 GMT -5
Alfred had to let this roll around in head head for a moment, to fully process it, and when he did, he perked up, not even noticing that he'd looked somewhat glum merely moments before. The grin that appeared on his face couldn't really be descried as anything other than goofy and almost bashful.
"Yeah, you think?" He laughed, unable to contain himself. "Well, I mean, 'course you do! I know I'm pretty fun to be around, and all! Even you couldn't think differently! So.." He trailed off, hoping his cheeks didn't look as warm as they felt. "Anyway.. um.. "
The blonde eyed Arthur for a moment before grabbing the book, hastily flipping through until he came across the chapter on genetics. Looking uncharacteristically shy, he held it out to him, showing off the page he'd randomly ended up on.
"You.. think you could review Punnet squares with me, too? And recessive and dominant genes, and what not?"
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Feb 23, 2011 0:19:07 GMT -5
Alfred's smiles were always bright, and always contagious. It was a bit surprising to see the boy so disheartened (over what? What did he have to be sad about?) one moment, and so... happy, the next, but he supposed that was just a part of who Alfred was. The American was quite spontaneous, as far as he knew, and... truth be told, it was refreshing.
"This section's a lot easier; you should be able to get it relatively quickly," Arthur said, taking the book and glancing over the page briefly before launching into an explanation, summarizing and simplifying the information as best as he could. He glanced over at the other student every once in a while, and made sure to pause now and then so Alfred could have a few moments to let the information sink in. "Do you get it? I can go slower, if you want."
(Alfred, he not-so-belatedly noticed, had lovely eyes. But he blamed their colour on the lighting.)
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Feb 23, 2011 11:50:42 GMT -5
Alfred nodded in confirmation as the other began again, paying attention, but not unlike earlier, not paying as much attention to what he was saying. He was too busy looking over his facial features. His eyebrows, that, regardless of how much he poked fun at them sometimes, actually fit his appearance, and definitely didn't make him look bad. They suited him, in a way. Then there were his eyes, the prettiest shade of green, which he couldn't quite admit to himself that he ogled over nearly every time he saw them.
His gaze was just trailing down to his Arthur's lips, and he hardly realized what he was doing for the second time until the older student asked him a question he only half heard.
"O-Oh, haha, no, no! It's cool!" He laughed, a tad sheepishly. "I'm getting it, thanks! 'Cause you're so good at this, y' know?"
In the back of his mind, he couldn't help the thought that persisted as he looked down and pretended to busy himself with studying a diagram that was upside down anyway in the corner of the page. Why the heck am I doing this to myself?
"So what about the more complicated ones? Those weird ones with more than four alleles. Could we go over a few of those, too?" The blond requested with a grin.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Feb 24, 2011 6:04:00 GMT -5
Arthur made a little face, the result of a pleased expression trying to be hidden behind a frown... peppered, of course, with embarrassment. It wasn't exactly because he wasn't used to receiving compliments often, but because... somehow, hearing them from Alfred made the words hold that much more meaning. (And it was ridiculous, how they did! What about that American was so special, anyway?)
The Englishman paused, taking a brief moment to actually think about that question. What about Alfred was so bloody eye-catching, anyway...? Sure, he had the deepest, most entrancing blue eyes he'd ever seen... beautiful golden hair, perfect sun-kissed skin, and-- okay. Fine. So Alfred F. Jones was easy on the eyes. But that couldn't be all... no, that wasn't all.
Alfred was bright in a way that few others were. He had a smile that could light up a whole room for days on end - a smile that never failed to make his mood just a smidgen better. He was honest (most of the time, and the few times he lied... well, Arthur could see straight through him. Or so he liked to believe.), kind (well... overall, at least. The prat still made fun of his eyebrows and mocked British culture, but still.), and, well... plenty of over things, yes, but the Englishman just couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly that caught his attention.
(A part of him said that it was probably Alfred's hero complex. He rejected it as soon as the thought came. Alfred couldn't be his prince charming, and he doubted that the American was looking for someone like him to be his knight.)
However, at the other blonde's request, Arthur snapped out of his rather embarrassing train of thought, cheeks slightly pink. "A-Ah... of course."
He reached for the book, pausing momentarily when his hand brushed by the others. "...Sorry," he quickly murmured, tugging the book closer to himself as he launched into another explanation.
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Feb 26, 2011 2:29:42 GMT -5
Alfred's eyes flickered when he caught a glimpse of what might've been the slightest twinge of pink appearing on Arthur's face, not able to help noticing the way he seemed to stutter for a moment.
Don't read into it, Alfie. Don't read into it, don't read into it, don't—
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he felt the other's hand just barely brush against his. As brief and limited as the contact was, it managed to bring color to his cheeks. Shocked, he drew his hand back and, just as Arthur apologized, he spluttered out a, "W-Whoops, sorry." in unison.
Embarrassed, he watched as the other regained his composure and seemingly effortlessly sped into another lecture. The American desperately tried to will away how hot he was sure his face looked, as well as distract himself with whatever it was the older student was saying at this point.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Feb 26, 2011 7:25:40 GMT -5
On the outside, Arthur Kirkland was completely composed. It was just an accidental touch... if it could even be considered that. He was mature, as professional as a student could get, and... completely freaking out on the inside. It was ridiculous and stupid, too, because he couldn't even say anything cheesy like, 'his hands were really soft', or 'it was really warm'. All he could really say that he brushed his hand by Alfred's very briefly, and his heart - oh, his silly little heart, beating so quickly over so simple a thing - just got up and ran.
And ran, and ran, and ran.
As he drew his explanation to a close, Arthur finally braved a look over at Alfred... whose pink cheeks immediately caught his attention. For the briefest moment, he wondered if the American was just as nervous over something so small and silly as he was... but brushed that thought aside. Alfred and he were too different to function on the same level. (Arthur liked both females and males. Alfred probably liked only girls. Alfred was easy to get along with, and spent his time playing video games or watching movies... like a normal teenager. Arthur was difficult to befriend, at best, and spent his time drinking tea, reading, and taking walks.)
So, Arthur came to the only logical conclusion. "...Are you alright, Alfred? You're not getting sick, are you?" he asked, frowning (it was out of concern for himself, not worry. No, most definitely not worry...). He reached out, placing one hand on Alfred's forehead, and one hand on his own. "If you're sick, you should be taking some medicine and sleeping, not studying over here."
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