Always [A USUK fanfiction]

Obstacles

The red eye glowed in the darkness as Alfred stood motionless in the restroom. The color seemed to mock him, reminding himself not only of his fate to be, but his stupidity as well. If only he had been less arrogant, he might not have to deal with this wretched disfigurement. How was he supposed to hide such a dramatic change? There was no way he could come up with a fib to make his sudden change in appearance understandable, nor could he simply tell the truth; this was a situation that had no escape. Yet, as he continued to stare at his ghastly reflection, his mind began to stray away from these self-pitying thoughts to those more hopeful and somewhat proud. While this situation was no doubt bad, deep down Alfred still knew he had made the right decision. Even if it meant his own disappearance, he would never change what he had done.

The lights finally returned to the house accompanied by a soft throbbing in Alfred's head. He looked to the mirror and watched in amazement as the red iris faded back into his natural blue hue. A sigh of relief left his lungs as he watched the satisfying transition. "Guess that means the bastard's gone." A disapproving frown marked his lips as he was now able to see his current appearance in the shattered glass. He was no longer ready for the evening.

His hand reached for the door when a sharp stinging sensation filled his knuckles causing him to wince. He looked down to his bloody fist suddenly remembering he had been the cause of the broken mirror. Unfortunately, despite the amount of power that flew from his punch, the crimson letters remained intact on the fragmented glass. Not wanting to be reminded any further of that situation, he quickly tended to his hand, and made his was out of the restroom, closing the door behind him. He would no longer be using that bathroom.

He quickly walked back into his room, once again examining himself in the mirror, analyzing which parts of his looks needed the most attention. Surprisingly, his hair had managed to survive the chaos, but unfortunately his pants and jacket were covered with dust. He hurriedly browsed through his closet as he began to undress himself. The only other acceptable outfit he had left to wear was a white tuxedo he had purchased a few years prior. While it seemed like a good purchase at the time, now he was not too fond it, but since it was the only other option he had, he had to make do. Just as quickly as he removed the other suit, like lightning, he threw on the new ensemble.

Finally, he was ready to leave for the party. He began to make his way down the stairs when he heard the phone ringing in the kitchen. He rushed over, simultaneously grabbing his keys from the counter and picked up the call. "Hello?"

"Alfred! Where the hell are you?" an angry Francis questioned with high annoyance.

"Hey Francis, sorry I got caught up in something, but I'm about to leave," he smoothly stated, trying not to signal he was slightly distressed. "I'm not too late am I?"

"Well considering it is already nine-thirty, I'd say you are indeed late." The bluntness of the man's words caught Alfred off guard, "Is it really already nine-thirty?"

Francis continued, now speaking in a rough whisper, "The Brit has been trying to leave for over an hour, and I don't think I can persuade him to stay much longer."

Alfred quietly scorned himself, "I am so sorry Francis, I am leaving now. Can you try and stall for thirty more minutes? The drive is a little long."

There was a moment of silence from the other line. He could tell this was no simple request. Finally, Francis let out a frustrated sigh, "Ok, but no promises. You better be here in thirty minutes, or I'm letting his condescending ass leave."

A small feeling of guilt filled hovered above as those words reached his ears. It wasn't his fault he was late, but there was no way he could explain that to anyone, let alone Francis. "I will be there. Thank you." With that Alfred quickly placed the phone back on the counter and rushed to the door. He ran through his mental checklist to be one-hundred percent he had everything he needed, then ran straight to his car. He had thirty minutes to drive nearly twenty miles, a feat that is not easily accomplished, but if he missed this opportunity to see Arthur again, he would never forgive himself.

He pushed the key into the ignition and turned it forward. Carefully he placed his purchase from earlier on the passenger seat, ensuring himself that it would be safe from any damage on the drive over. He moved his hand to the gear stick but had a small heart attack when he realized he had forgotten to check whether he had remembered to grab a folded note off the counter. He frantically felt around his jacket until his fingers reached the tiny square safely tucked away inside one of the inner pockets. A small burst of confidence filled his mind. Once everything was secure, he threw the car in drive and immediately began to speed down the partially frozen road.

Twenty miles in thirty minutes was possible, though probably not the safest given the current conditions of the roads. However, Alfred did not care about the ice; he was going to disappear anyway, so why should he be careful on a slick road? His desperation motivated him to keep focused on the task at hand. The roads were clear, allowing him to take the drive at his desired pace. His car flew down asphalt, gliding under the star covered sky. He had to make it in time.