author's note: this is my newest fanfiction, and is ongoing! inspired by a multitude of things, and also the fact that i stubbed my toe on a box while unpacking stuff in my room. enjoy!
"Oh man, I really hate moving." You grumbled to yourself as you lugged the box upstairs. It didn't help that the lift was broken, or that the box weighed about as much as you did. Collapsing in a heap outside your new flat, you wiped your forehead and tried to get your breath back.
It would be the first time you'd ever lived alone. Before moving here, you'd lived in a flat with your friends, and before that you'd lived at home with your parents. When you moved out, they moved to this town, and, after finding work at a bookstore in the town centre, you moved into this block of flats.
It wasn't one of those horrible, run-down council flats, oh no. It was a lovely (and expensive) place, with nice, spacious apartments and a reputation for being one of the nicer places to live in this town. Still, they could have fixed the lift, you mused darkly, remembering the other twenty-odd boxes in the foyer.
"Hey, you OK lady?" Came a child's voice, and you snapped out of your reverie to find a young, blond boy looking at you curiously, his blue eyes wide.
"Oh, um... Yeah. I'm fine." You said, smiling at the boy.
"Are you gonna live here lady?" He said, beaming at you, "We can be friends if you want. My name's Alfred!" He stuck a hand out to you, and you shook it,
"My name's _______. You're right, I just moved in." You smiled at the boy again. He was so adorable it was hard not to. Then a man's voice, with a lilting British accent came drifting up the stairwell towards you,
"Alfred! Where have you gone now?" Alfred jumped at the voice, and yelled downstairs,
"I'm up here! It's OK, I'm with _______!"
"With who!?" The man's voice sounded alarmed, and you heard footsteps on the stairs. The man that appeared about ten seconds later was tall, blond and impeccably (though casually) dressed. He had beautiful green eyes and carried another boy, this one a fairer blond, with watery violet eyes.
"Oh, you must be the owner of those boxes then." The man remarked, holding the hand that wasn't holding the boy out to you, to help you up.
"Yeah, those are mine. I need to move them..." You turned to go downstairs and lug the boxes up, but the man slipped the boy off his hip and spoke,
"I'll help you, love."
"Oh, uh... Okay. I'm _______." You smiled a little.
"How rude of me, I'm Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. And these are Alfred, and Matthew, they're twins, though they don't look alike." He gestured to the boys in turn, smiling at them.
"We wanna help too, don't we Mattie!" Exclaimed Alfred, jumping up and down, Matthew nodded mutely, clutching his polar bear beanie toy closer.
"Well boys, I don't know if that's a good idea. Miss _______ may not want you messing her things up..." Arthur began, but you cut in,
"That's a great idea! I have some boxes that are lighter- you two will be a great help!" You told the boys, and then to Arthur,
"It's fine; my things are such a mess anyway!" He laughed.
::::: About an hour later::::
"Whew, I'm tiiiiired!" Alfred exclaimed, flopping down onto your sofa, which was surrounded by boxes in various stages of unpacking. You laughed- Alfred was such a little character. During your time lugging boxes around, you'd gotten to know the Kirklands a little better.
Arthur wasn't the twins' real father- their real father was a mister Francis Bonnefoy, who had had an affair with Arthur's ex-wife, who had then had the twins. Arthur had adopted them when Francis and Arthur's ex moved to France. He had raised them for five of their six years, and they loved him very much.
He worked in a college, as a lecturer on English Literature. He'd been quite interested to know you worked in a bookstore- and had questioned you on your favourite books. Turned out you had a few in common. You also liked the same music- both admitting to liking old punk music, but having secret penchants for classical too.
You snapped back to the present as Arthur said to the boys,
"Boys, please put that back." They'd found your old "Aristocats" DVD and wanted to watch it. You laughed softly- it was your favourite film when you were their age.
"Let them watch it. I don't mind the company, really." You said to Arthur,
"Sure, love?" His casual use of the word "love" made your cheeks go red. You nodded. Arthur grinned,
"Right boys. _______ says you can stay and watch it, but first we have to go back to our apartment and get into our jammies." The boys smiled widely, and Alfred hugged your leg,
"Like a PJ party! _______, you wear yours too, and daddy can wear his!" You two adults went red at this, but gamely agreed to it.
When Arthur and the boys went back to their apartment (which, coincidentally, was the one opposite yours) you deliberated over which PJs to wear, pulling pretty much every set out of the box labelled "Sleepwear". You eventually decided on a cute pair of dusty pink cropped yoga trousers, and a camisole with a heart pattern and a lacy trim. Throw on a pair of oversized snuggly bed socks and you were good to go.
You had to admit you were curious as to what Arthur's PJs looked like. To be honest, everything about him made you curious. He was just... Interesting. And very handsome, too, you giggled to yourself, as there was a soft knock on the door.
The boys ran in (well, Alfred dragged Mattie by the hand) and jumped onto your beanbags. They were dressed very adorably in Thomas the Tank Engine jammies, with dinky slippers and dressing gowns to match.
"Sorry about them, love." Arthur's voice came, and you span to see him. He was dressed in a very old and faded Radiohead T-shirt, and black PJ trousers, with fluffy socks like yours. He looked, to put it quite simply, cute. You blushed, and led him in. He sat on the sofa as you busied yourself with the DVD.
When it started, you settled down for an hour and a half of Disney goodness. Even after all these years (well, not that many really- you weren't that old) it was still as good as ever, and you were completely engrossed, though that didn't stop you sneaking looks at Arthur in the darkened room every so often.
The boys fell asleep about halfway through, and were snoring quietly as the credits rolled. You and Arthur sat there for a few minutes, just looking at them. They were so cute when they slept! Then, he spoke softly,
"Thanks for letting us come over, love."
"No problem. You're welcome here any time." You smiled.
"Would you help me carry them over?" He asked, getting up, and scooping a sleepy Alfred into his arms. You picked up the sleeping Matthew up and followed Arthur across to his flat. It was meticulously tidy, and as you tucked Mattie into bed, you admired the general organised aura of the place.
Arthur walked you across the hall back to your place,
"Goodnight, _______." He said, again softly.
"Goodnight, Arthur". You replied, then blushed when he leaned in and kissed your cheek. The two of you parted ways and you shut your door behind it and sank down to the floor, blissfully unaware of the lovestruck Brit on the other side.