【Mi Ying】that side

Chapter 21 21.

The hot water soaked his hair little by little, easing his cold body temperature, and Arthur gradually recovered from his drowsiness.

Alfred hurriedly took him out of the repaired cabin, and drove him back after the rain subsided.

Turning off the sprinkler, the American put his hand on the wet face of the British: "Arthur, what's wrong with you?" The voice was gentle and anxious.

The emerald green pupils slowly focused, and Arthur looked blankly at the distressed American youth in front of him, without saying a word.

The wind of heavy locomotives speeding on the road, the rain all over his face, and the warm lights in front of the apartment gate, all could not touch him as before.

Where is this small town? Is it a dream made up in my mind?Is this Alfred, who looks exactly like the United States, also a fake?If I wake up completely... will I lose him?

... Is everything we experience false?

Alfred stood up to grab a towel and gently covered Arthur's hair.He took off his rain-stained glasses long ago, and his gaze stayed on the British face from beginning to end.Those eyes were like blue flames that almost melted Arthur.

At the thought of losing this man, Arthur couldn't suppress the pain in his chest, and his eyes were too dry to shed tears.

From being used to being alone, to staying away from loneliness, to enjoying the time together more than ever.During these days, his worry about gain and loss is not without reason.Anxiety spread to every corner of his chest like a thornbush, it was the feeling of cowardice as a human being.

—but he wasn't human at all.

He is British.

It wasn't that he hadn't imagined that those dreams and the fragments that flooded his eyes were nothing but fantasies, hallucinations.

As ordinary people, I think of myself as "Britain", a real country.This kind of thing is like talking about it for anyone to talk about.

How could such a thing happen.

He may really be just an ordinary Englishman Arthur Kirkland who met a very good American Alfred F. Jones, and then they were attracted to each other, they fell in love, and they were happy happily ever after.

But how could he forget.

The touch of gold seen on the vast grassland.The little figure who read the alphabet after him.A child who thinks when he hears the name "Foster".A boy who raised his flintlock and looked at him on a rainy day.A young man in a suit who proudly said "Sorry, I surpassed you a little bit".The young man who said to him under the grand fireworks, "I'm not in good health, but I'm going to be strong...thank you".

How could he forget the Mustang fighter jet, the man with the dusty air force jacket, he looked down at him, his blue eyes were arrogant and burning under the glasses: "Hi, England. Here I come. "

That's America.

The America he is familiar with has survived for hundreds of years, the proud and powerful youth who thrived after the revolution and independence.

His former territory, the new land on the other side of the ocean that he was secretly attached to, the family-like existence he had to face in battle, the opponent he used to compete in private, the ally he relied on and followed closely, finally stood at the top of the world America.

— but it is impossible to love the United States with him.

Alfred looked exactly like that man.Yet he is not him.

Alfred F. Jones, a retired youth from the United States, a college student at the Aerospace University in the northern suburbs.They met in the summer, he brought him a whole bag of green apples, he drove a heavy locomotive to take him through small towns and suburbs, and he took him to know different people to try different foods.He fought with the Russians but hesitated to stop when he saw him, he sang out-of-key songs for him, and he confessed his love to him by the sea.They kiss, he sets his picture as a phone screensaver, and he introduces him to the vastness of the universe and the stars.They live together in the autumn, they make love, go out in pairs, and receive blessings from acquaintances.They celebrate Christmas together, run in the snowy night, and they spend New Years together, watching the splendid fireworks blooming above their heads.

The Americans brought him so much warmth and so much happiness, which could almost fill his heart and everything.

Then—however—

Everything reminds him all the time.

Arthur struggled to recall the people he was familiar with, and the details intersected with each other, gradually connecting into nodes to trigger his memories.

The owner of the coffee shop who claimed to have known him since middle school was his enemy France for hundreds of years.The Latin farmer who clashed with him at the first meeting was Spain, who always loves tit for tat.The so-called East German youth who has a different nationality from his younger brother is Prussia whose name has been changed.His always gentle and generous fellow police officer is Canada, a member of the Commonwealth he cherishes.The hallucination he saw when Honda left, the black-haired young man who bid farewell to him under the cherry blossom tree, was the dignified Japan when the fragile island alliance broke down.The Slavs, always elusive, were Russia, the one he was least adept at dealing with.

Portugal, Germany, northern and southern Italy, Hungary, Switzerland, Finland, Sweden, Estonia... all the familiar faces in the town.

The so-called "deja vu" that he couldn't explain when he first met them was because they did know each other—in another world unrelated to this dream, they were all old acquaintances who had never had so many warm exchanges.

How could he forget.

Those headaches that come from time to time, emotional turmoil that cannot be hidden, are always revealing fragments of memories of his identity as a "country"——

He should have noticed.

Alfred put a coat on Arthur's naked body, then picked him up by the waist, and walked slowly towards the bedroom.The warmth of the American's arms made Arthur feel both happy and desperate.

Whether this is a dream or a hallucination, don't wake up, at least not at this time.

The American youth laid him down on the soft bed and whispered, "Arthur, you need to rest." The man was so gentle that even though he was aware of his extreme abnormality, he didn't ask.

He is in love with him.

The tears of the British came again.

He pressed Alfred's hand that was pulling the quilt for him, the cold fingertips were in stark contrast to the warmth of the other party.

"Alfred." Arthur said hoarsely.He put his arms around the American's shoulders, sat up, and began kissing the other's neck.

Alfred was stunned for a moment, and quickly realized that he hugged the bony and pale body of the British young man, as if trying to warm him up quickly, and rubbed his hands from the neck down.

When he touched the scar on Arthur's left arm, he sucked Arthur's lips and asked, "I didn't notice your scar before. Is the security police such a dangerous job?"

"Yeah," Arthur said vaguely.He stuck his tongue into Alfred's mouth and responded aggressively to the kiss.

It was the scar left by that rainy night on the American continent more than 200 years ago, and it was a gift you gave me when you parted from another world.

——A mark that will never fade away in this lifetime.

Alfred lifted Arthur up, and he sat naked on top of the American.The American youth hugged him, caressed him, filled him up like every time before.

Arthur couldn't help the tears in his eyes, he put his arms around Alfred's head, and his fingers clung tightly to Alfred's broad shoulders.The salty liquid fell from his eye sockets and fell on Alfred's thick golden hair.

"At that time I said..." Alfred's voice was broken, almost sighing.

"What..." Arthur's voice was muffled by the shaking of his waist.

"I would, take you anywhere in the world. I want to be with you. You haven't answered me yet."

Alfred let Arthur's hand loosen, and the palm moved from Arthur's hip to neck.He kissed the corners of the Englishman's eyes, brushing the tears and sweat off his face with his lips.

"Is there any place you want to go?" The American firmly supported his waist, and his lower body moved in and out forcefully, "Arthur, answer me."

"Um, ah, um... ah, Alfred...!" The uncontrollable moan made him unable to answer clearly.

"Arthur...!"

As the rhythm of the American speeds up, they reach the climax of the affair.After the emotions calmed down, they leaned on each other's shoulders and let out gasps of varying severity.

Alfred gently sucked the Englishman's white neck, and kept stroking his trembling body with his palms.

Arthur's panting gradually eased, and he raised his head, his emerald green eyes shining brighter against the flushed cheeks and eye sockets.He struggled to raise his hands to cup Alfred's cheeks.

"Nowhere... just here... that's enough."

"it is good."

Alfred laughed, his eyes were as bright as the sky.He carefully pulled away from Arthur's body, and kissed the Englishman's brow and forehead.Slowly, almost religiously.

Breathing steadily between their lips, the American picked up the British man's hand, held it, crossed his knuckles, and interlocked their fingers again.

Arthur closed his eyes slowly in the wave of kisses, letting the tears run down his cheeks.

I have places I want to go.

Not the abyss, not the impasse, not the unreachable sun and moon.

But I can't bind you, your dreams, your future—

Even if you, Alfred F. Jones, may only exist in this long dream, I cannot be your obstacle.

I will give it back to you.

——That is the freedom you strived for as a nation.