Stalker!England X Reader- Always There

*~*~Five~*~*

Chapter Five

Hey, Artie! I'm hosting an awesome party tonight. It starts at six. You wanna come?

Arthur grinned as he re-read the message he had just received from his new friend. It had been so easy getting Alfred to like him and now he was getting invited to one of his parties. He really was a good actor and maybe once (Y/N) moved in with him he could pursue it as a career. For now, he was happy with his writing. Arthur was a columnist for the national newspaper The Daily News and he earned nearly £40,000 a year just by submitting two high-quality columns a week.

He messaged Alfred a reply: Of course. I'd love to. I'll see you at six. This was a brilliant opportunity for Arthur, a chance to make a good impression on (Y/N). When he'd returned to his apartment after their previous encounter he'd felt a terrible surge of guilt. He had been too harsh on her and he had probably scared her off. What was he thinking, grabbing her wrist like that? He'd threatened her best friend. You need to control your temper, he reprimanded himself. He couldn't allow himself to freak out in front of (Y/N) again, not when his plan was just starting to fall into place.

It was two o'clock. He had three hours to get ready before he had to leave for Alfred and (Y/N)'s house. He finished his cup of tea, grimacing because it had gotten cold and headed for his bedroom. He had a big decision to make: smart, casual or smart-casual? He could text Alfred to ask him but decided against it. He didn't want to make himself look like a fool who had never been invited to house parties before. Which, as a matter of fact, he hadn't. He'd been to University parties, sure, but they usually involved make-out sessions in whichever bedroom was free, beer kegs and pizza.

He opened his oak wardrobe doors and scanned the hangers. He had an assortment of Harry Potter, Sherlock and Doctor Who shirts, several crisp suit shirts and a few buttoned casual shirts. After a few moments of internal debate, he settled for a pale green buttoned shirt, black skinny jeans and smart black leather loafers. "There, that looks good." He placed his chosen outfit on his king-sized bed and headed for the bathroom. He had to freshen up.

This was the party that was going to change his life.

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It was six o'clock and (Y/N) swore that, by the end of the night, she was going to lose her hearing. Alfred was blasting something that sounded like Katy Perry through their speakers and everybody seemed to be shouting, or snogging or both. Officially, the party didn't start until six but people always came early- especially if it was one of Alfred's parties. Technically, it was her party too since they lived in the same house but, whilst Alfred loved to be at the centre of attention, she was the kind of person who only spoke to most of the guests when she was answering the door.

She had decided to let the black dress make its reappearance. She hadn't worn it since that night with Arthur and she was still unsure on whether she had made the right decision. Alfred had informed her that morning that Arthur was going to be attending the party and (Y/N) had sulked all day. Then, at about one in the afternoon she realised that if she spent all day thinking about him he would have won. There was no way that she was going to let that happen.

She walked through the cluster of guests, ignoring their stares as they tried to figure out who she was. She grabbed a bottle of beer from the buffet table which, to no surprise, was practically overflowing. One half of the table was covered with a variety of alcohol that ranged from vodka to beer to shots. Food covered the second half of the table and Alfred hadn't gone sparingly with that: sausage rolls, peanuts, crisps, chips, chicken nuggets- any type of classic buffet was on that table. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of her University friends Francis Bonnefoy chatting with Alfred's twin brother, Matthew, and decided that she would go and join their conversation. She had been looking for Alfred but he was nowhere to be seen.

When the Frenchman saw her, he gave her a low appreciative whistle. "You look positively divine, (Y/N)." She blushed, suddenly very glad that she had decided to talk to Francis. She could always count on Francis to dish out the compliments. "So, where is the host of this fine party?"

She shrugged, taking another glance around the room. "You mean Alfred? I honestly have no idea. I haven't seen him yet."

Francis sighed and gulped the beer that he had been holding. "Well, you'd better locate him soon before someone else takes your fancy," he winked causing (Y/N) to chuckle and shake her head. "I mean, who could possibly resist you in that dress?"

Matthew, who had been observing the conversation, pointed to the kitchen. "I think I saw him in there. He was emptying a vodka bottle, probably getting ready to play one of those stupid games of his."

Alfred did love his party games. His two favourites were Spin the Bottle and Seven Minutes in Heaven which did not surprise (Y/N) in the slightest. He always fancied himself as some kind of matchmaker. Every time they played a small part of her always hoped that she'd get Alfred, she never did.

She was about to respond when something made her heart leap into her throat. Arthur. The creepy Brit had decided to show up, after all. She needed to talk to him now rather than later, to warn him away from Alfred.

"I'll see you guys later."

She made her way back through the crowd and headed for Arthur who was choosing a drink at the buffet table. She downed the rest of her drink, liking the way the alcohol warmed her body as it travelled its way through her.

"Arthur."

He looked up, picked a random bottle and turned. "(Y/N)," he said, crossing his arms and leaning onto the table, "I'm surprised you even bothered to talk to me. If I remember correctly, I was not very nice to you the last time we spoke."

That startled her. She assumed that he would just dismiss what had happened before or bring up the threat again to use against her. She never thought that he would actually bother apologising. He looked different today but maybe it was just the outfit. He looked smart and slightly out-of-place, like he was trying too hard.

"No, you weren't."

"I'm terribly sorry." He looked sincere and it was incredibly confusing, what was she supposed to think? "I don't know what had come over me, I had just had a bad day and you were accusing me of lying and..." He sighed and rubbed at his temples. "I was being an idiot."

"Okay," she said after a long time, still not sure whether it had been the right thing to say. "I'll forget about it." That was a load of rubbish. She didn't think that she could ever forget about it, ever stop really hating him. The way that he looked at her, as though she were a piece of meat he was about to devour, it made her shiver.

He smiled and (Y/N) was hit with a wave of regret. Would he now think that he could walk all over her? That certainly wasn't the case.

"Alright guys!" Alfred's loud voice rang throughout the room, interrupting their conversation. "It's time for Spin the Bottle!" The entire room cheered and (Y/N) felt that familiar flutter of hope. Would she get Alfred? She'd rather have him for Seven Minutes in Heaven but she felt that would be too awkward, that nothing would happen.

They created a large circle in the middle of the room and turned down the music until it was just quiet background noise. Everybody loved this game and at every party a couple would end up dating. She suspected that this boosted Alfred's ego considerably.

She sat directly opposite Alfred whose mouth made a small O shape when he saw her. Nice dress, he mouthed as he positioned the bottle in the middle of the circle.

Thanks, she replied, a small smile on her face and warmth in her stomach.

"Okay guys the rules are pretty simple: you kiss whoever the bottle lands on and I mean whoever. Relationships are out of the window when it comes to this game." The circle chuckled and Alfred grinned. "So, who wants to spin first?"

This was always the slowest part of the game. Someone would have to nominate themselves first to spin, the bottle would then travel clockwise along the circle until everybody had kissed someone. The Spaniard, she thought his name was Antonio, from Alfred's class raised a hand and Alfred gestured for him to go right ahead. Antonio spun the bottle and it landed the direction of a red-faced Lovino Vargas. After minutes of profuse swearing and complaining, the two locked lips and the game continued.

Eight spins later and it was Alfred's turn to spin the bottle. "Well," he scanned the circle, "who's getting lucky today?" he joked. He gave the bottle a spin and it went around the circle three times before it stopped.... On (Y/N). For the first time since they had played this game, Alfred's cheeks went a tint of red.

"Are you okay with this, (Y/N)?" he asked shyly, his blue eyes were wider than ever.

"Aha, no breaking the rules Alfred~" Francis sang with glee.

Alfred shrugged and leant forward. She didn't know whether it was a subconscious movement but he placed his hands around her waist. She tilted her head upwards and their lips met. He tasted like Vodka and Coke but she didn't mind and all too soon the kiss was over. She looked around the circle. Francis was smiling at her as was Matthew, a knowing expression in his eyes. Arthur, on the other hand, looked positively murderous. (Y/N) supressed a shudder and looked away.

He didn't look at her as he sat back down and passed the bottle to Arthur who had to kiss Matthew. The game went on until (Y/N) had the last spin and the bottle landed on Francis who, surprisingly, gave her a quick peck on the lips followed by a flirtatious wink. Save it for Alfred, he mouthed causing (Y/N)'s cheeks to burn.

"Okay, now we move on to my favourite: Seven Minutes in Heaven!" This was followed by appreciative whoops, apparently it was everyone else's favourite too. Alfred handed half of the circle, including himself, a post-it note and told them all to write their names on it. (Y/N) hadn't been given one so she was going to have to pick from the hat herself.

Once all of the post-it notes had been placed in the hat the game began. Elizaveta was the first to pick and she and Gilbert, who appeared to be very happy with the situation, headed into the closet for seven minutes. They emerged exactly seven minutes later, both with red faces and messy hair.

The game continued like that until Natalya, a girl from Belarus, picked Alfred. Alfred glanced at (Y/N) and she gave a small smile and a shrug. Go ahead, she mouthed. After all, it was just a game and they weren't exactly in a relationship were they? However, she found herself regretting this decision when Alfred exited the closet with half of his shirt buttons undone and a mark forming on his neck.

By the time it was her turn to pick there was only a few names left: Francis, Matthew, Feliciano, Arthur and Lovino. She placed her hand into the hat, hoping against hope that it would be Francis. In that particular case, he was definitely the better option.

She unfolded the post-it note, aware of everyone's eyes on her. She looked at the note and her mouth went dry. She felt sick.

"Come on (Y/N)," Alfred goaded, "who's the lucky fella?"

She looked up from the note and straight into those dangerous green eyes. She could have sworn that they were smirking.

"Arthur."

A/N: Well, you were probably expecting that! xD Poor Reader, stuck with creepy Arthur for seven minutes.
Thanks for reading!

~TheFeelsKilledMe1999