Not All Stories...

"Are you alright, love?" An eighteen year old girl with silky chestnut hair and sky blue eyes asked her lover.

A slightly older man by two years with straw blonde, messy hair and emeralds for eyes, looked up. "O-oh, yes. Yes, of course Monica, dear." he answered.

The one known as Monica moved over to the man. "Are you sure, Arthur? You seem tense." She began to rub his shoulders. "This is a happy day. I turn eighteen today. Just one more year and we can get married!" The last word was said in an unnecessary squeal.

Arthur flinched. How he hated when she did that.

To be completely honest, he wasn't looking forward to the wedding.

It wasn't that he was afraid of commitment. Not at all! It's just – he didn't love Monica like she did him. He thought of her more as a friend than fiance.

However, he didn't have much choice in the matter. After all, it was arranged before either of their grandparents were born.

Yes, you may think that arranged marriages are a bit outdated for some countries. At least England. But their parents liked things to be old fashioned, and rules to be followed.

And so, in honor of their ancestors, Monica and Arthur were set to marry a month after Monica, being the younger, turned nineteen.

They were first introduced to each other when Monica was five, and Arthur was seven. Right away, Monica took a strong liking to him.

She was always begging for him to play. Arthur, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with her. The boy would much rather have been reading, or writing a story, instead of playing tag or something with an over-enthusiastic child. But over the course of time, they'd grown to become friends.

Arthur would play games with Monica on occasion, but only if she promised to not get too annoying. He would also read her the stories he wrote.

She would always get so interested in them. Nearly every other sentence, she would just begin to rave about what a good writer he was, and that he was blessed with a gift.

Her personal favorite was the one about the boy and unicorn who became friends, and eventually lovers. It sounded wrong, until you find out that the unicorn was once a human child, who the boy fell in love with when he was little. But the unicorn died when he was a boy, and was reincarnated as how he was now. And a choice must be made.

Do they follow their hearts and stay together despite being of different species, or separate, because they believe it to be impossible?

Arthur hadn't finished that one yet when he read it to Monica. "So how does it end? Have you figured it out yet?" she would ask every day.

The boy would just shake his head. "I need inspiration." he would explain. And one day, seven years later, he got it.

Now, Arthur was fourteen, and Monica was twelve. They sat across from both their, extremely rich, parents.

Arthur's mother, Mary Ann, took a deep breath before saying, "Now, we know you two have known each other for quite some time now. And we think it's time to tell you...you're set to be married after Monica turns nineteen."

Immediately, the younger of them jumped out of the throne-like chair, and started spewing random, happy, excited words in a high-pitched squeal.

She was jumping, clapping her hands, and thanking the gods for giving her such an intelligent, gorgeous man. Meanwhile, Arthur sat there stunned, mouth open in a gape.

Marriage? He was going to marry this girl? He couldn't believe it! Sure he liked her, they had fun. But he didn't like her nearly enough to be married. Why did he have to do it? Why didn't he get to choose who he loved? It wasn't fair!

"...Why?" he asked aloud. Everyone looked at him.

"Why what?" Monica's mother, Jennifer, asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Why do I have to marry her?"

And then, it was like a bomb went off. It was like the London Blitz. All of Monica's attention was on him. She stared at him wide-eyed, with tears making them shimmer even more.

Oh, but that was the least of it.

Jennifer, for some odd reason, yelled, while Marcus, Monica's father, jumped up and started shouting, "WHAT! YOU THINK YOU'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR MY DAUGHTER!? Well if anything, she's too good for you!"

Johnson, Arthur's dad, also began to yell, "HEY! Don't talk about my son like that!" The shouting continued, while Mary Ann snuck over to Arthur.

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Honey," she began explaining, "A long time ago, before your father and I were even born, our relatives decided that, to keep the family rich, sometime in the future, we would have to marry some other rich family. And, well, that time in the future is now. You should be honored."

But he wasn't honored. It didn't make sense.

Who cared about money? In all the books he had read, love was always more important than anything – especially money. Hell, people had given their lives and souls for love!

Plus they already had more than enough. Why did they need more?

He brought this up, "But we have enough money – both of us. Why would we need any more?" His mother just sighed, "It's not so much about money anymore, but about remembering our ancestors. We need for them to live on within us."

Arthur sighed. He hated this, but he had to do it.

That day, Arthur came up with an ending to his story. The boy and unicorn decided they couldn't be together, so they separated. But the boy was unhappy...so unhappy. And so, he did the only thing that made sense to him. He killed himself.

No, that's not exactly how Arthur felt, but he knew he could never get what he wanted the most, just like the boy.

"I don't like that ending." Monica complained when he read it to her. "I want a different one."

Arthur sighed. "We can't always get what we want Monica. No matter how much we hate it and think it's unfair. Not every story has a happy ending."

"Arthur?" Monica's voice brought him back to the present. He looked up at her worried face. "You spaced out for a second Hun. Are you positive you're feeling alright?" She placed one of her soft hands on his forehead.

The man sighed, but answered, "Oh yes darling, of course."

He then took her hand, and kissed it lightly on the back. He may not have liked the fact that he was getting married to her, but that didn't stop him from acting like the English gentleman he was.

Monica blushed a nice shade of pink, and giggled like some immature schoolgirl. "Shall we have cake then?" she asked in her best "lady-like" voice.

Arthur looked up at his future wife with a fake, apologetic smile. "Sorry love, none for me. I've been watching my waist." he lied. He didn't give two shits about his weight, but he had the sudden urge to leave. "I think I'll go get some coffee from that little cafe we saw before."

Monica looked at him funny. "But we have some of the best coffee beans in England right here in the house." "I know," he said, "but I like supporting small business's and shops and such."

His fiance smiled, "You have such a kind heart Arthur. I love you."

Arthur shifted a little. "...Yes. I-I love you too, biscuit." And he headed out the door.

~Time Skip~

The blonde man sipped his coffee as he began to head towards the door. The bitter liquid was better than he expected it to be. He was used to the highest quality everything, so it surprised him a bit that he found the drink so pleasant.

He was so engrossed in the beverage, that he didn't notice the door open. It bumped him, making his legs twist around, and his body begin to descend.

Arthur closed his eyes, preparing for impact on the ground. However, arms wrapped around him and it never came.

He opened his eyes in surprise to see two beautiful blue ones. Yes, his Monica also had blue eyes, but they were nothing compared to these. While his fiance's were like the sky, these were more like an ocean of sparkling sapphires.

"Holy crap! Sorry dude, you alright?" A distinct American voice asked worriedly.

Arthur got back on his feet, and took a look at the man who caught his fall. The sapphire's he loved so much were covered by glasses. Dirty-blonde hair was combed, not so neatly, but better than his own.

And perhaps most distinguishable about this man, (next to his eyes. Arthur could not obsess over them enough.) was a cowlick on top of his head that stood straight up.


"Uh, yes. Yes I'm fine." The shorter man answered. "Well that's good." the other laughed. He started to walk towards the counter, but something in Arthur made him ask the man, "would you like me to buy you something?"

He smiled. "Sure dude, that'd rock."

Arthur paid for the man's drink, and began to talk with him. "So I haven't seen you in town before, Mr...?" "Call me Alfred." he said. "And yeah, I moved here from America for the school. I want to be a police officer – you know, an everyday hero! - and everyone knows that Churchill Academy is the best police academy like, ever."

Arthur giggled a bit, but looked at his watch.

Bollocks, he should get back to Monica soon. "If you'll excuse me Alfred, I must leave now. But I'd like to continue this some other time. Would you mind?"

A smile came onto Alfred's face, "Yeah, that'd rock. Same time on Tuesday?" "Of course." Arthur agreed. He grabbed his things, and headed out the door.

As he left, he smiled. He liked Alfred. He liked him a lot.