It was the middle of august, the night was exceedingly hot, and Arthur Kirkland could not sleep. The window was wide open but the sweaty breeze that drifted in did not give him any relief, in fact, only aggravating him further as it toyed with him, suggesting the cooler air that would release him from this torment, only to give him the warm waft that reminded him wholly of something more unpleasant.

He tossed and turned as he lay awake. Arthur had always been a light sleeper, the slightest sound or movement waking him. He didn't like the heat either, it made him sweat and it reminded him of the times he used to fall into fever when he was even littler than he was now. His mother said that he was a sensitive boy, more so than his brothers. Unlike him, each had the essence of health in them. They were her robust, romping little men, Arthur was her sweet, sensitive little boy, but he didn't really mind, because it meant that she loved him.

He flung his sheets off his sweaty legs and wiggled his damp toes before getting up. Arthur went to the bathroom and twisted the cold tap on tiptoes, struggling to reach, but finally managed and the freezing water came gushing out in a powerful stream, and immediately, he thrust his clammy hands and sighed as the water instantly cooled him and he left them in there until the tips of his fingers began to go numb. Arthur trailed his deadened fingers down his hot cheeks, leaving tiny wet marks on his face. But the relief that came with the water quickly dried up and Arthur's eyes snapped open and he sighed again, though this time in remorse. But then his eyes lit up and he went back to his room and took the empty hot water bottle that was buried in his wardrobe with his winter clothes, strewing thick woollen jumpers all over the floor in the process. He went back to the bathroom and filled it up with the icy water and carried the now heavy sack back to his bed, flopping onto it and laying it over his chest. He smiled softly and shifted it, over his stomach, feet, his boiling forehead. But, though Arthur was certainly more relaxed, now comfortably cool instead of unbearably hot, he was still restless, fidgeting with the parker pen that he kept on his bedside table. He twisted it in his fingers before settling it back down, exhaling softly and getting up. Arthur walked slowly down the stairs, bare feet hardly making a sound as they hit the cool wooden floorboards. He did not turn on the light. He stepped into the kitchen, taking a cup and getting himself a drink of water from the tap. He had to stand on a chair because he was small. None of Arthur's brothers needed to stand on a chair to reach the tap. Arthur's brothers said that he was too short, and girly. Sometimes, when their mother and father were out of earshot, Conner and Douglas would say that he was gay. Arthur didn't know what that meant. When he asked Rhys though, what it meant, he looked uncomfortable and said that he didn't know but Arthur could tell that he did, so he assumed it was a bad thing that Rhys didn't want to tell him about. When Conner or Douglas would call him that, he would shout or hit them, and they would hit him back but he never told Mother, because she was delicate and didn't like it when her babies fought. Father didn't know either because Arthur didn't want Father to get into a temper because Mother didn't like that, and that might make her sicker.

There was the sudden sound of footsteps that pulled Arthur out of his thoughts and he jumped, nearly dropping the plastic cup in his hand. He didn't, but a tiny bit of water managed to slosh out and dripped onto his naked toes. He placed it down and tensed up, moving just to the side of the door where others couldn't see him, but there was a chuckle and apparently, he had already been spotted.

"Come out, Arthur, I know you're there. Don't worry, I'm not mad." His father's voice came rolling out, deep but soft like a wave.

Arthur crept out from behind the door and stood awkwardly in the hallway, arms hanging useless at his sides.

"It's hot. I can't sleep." He declared, as if to justify his actions.

"Neither can I." His father replied. "I'm like you, I can't bear the heat. Your mother was always one for the sunny beach holidays though." He looked a little sad but shook it off and smiled down at his son."Why don't we go outside? It may be hot, but it's cooler out there than in here."

Arthur nodded and smiled, eyes lighting up. He didn't get much time with his father. Conner and Douglas idolised him, while Rhys usually kept to himself, and when he wasn't busy, the two older brothers would constantly hang around him.

His father took his hand and Arthur walked outside, barefoot, taking care not to step on any fallen twigs or thorns. The man sat down in the garden chair, helping Arthur into his lap. The little boy curled against his chest and he smiled, stroking his son's unruly hair, a feature that he had inherited from him. But unlike his two eldest sons, neither Rhys nor Arthur had inherited his flaming hair. Arthur had hair like his mother and Rhys had reddish brown hair like his grandfather did when he was young. Thomas looked at his youngest son and felt a pang at his chest. Despite his messy hair and thick eyebrows, Arthur definitely took after his mother, inheriting her wide green eyes that were so full of life and the light dusting of freckles that only came out in the summer sun. He had her face too and her personality when she had been healthier. Arthur reminded him so much of the woman he had fallen in love with that it hurt.

Arthur squeezed his knee and looked up, turning to point a small hand at something in the garden that Thomas looked after.

"What is that?" He asked, looking up to his father with sparkling eyes.

When Thomas squinted a little harder, he saw a faint green glow, deep in the bushes a few metres away. Glow worms. He smiled and told his son what his own father had told him all those years ago.

"They're newborn faeries, son." He said softly, smiling secretly as Arthur bolted upright and excitement filled his green eyes.

"Really?"

"Yep." Thomas said, restraining the urge to chuckle.

"They're so pretty! Can I touch one?" Arthur asked, trying to slide out of his father's lap and onto the ground but Thomas held him tight.

"I'm afraid not, Arthur. Faeries don't like it when people come near them." Thomas said seriously, staring deep into Arthur's eyes. "They might just put a curse on you if you come too close!" He grinned and flicked his son gently on the nose, dispelling the disappointed look from his little face and making him giggle wildly. Thomas tickled Arthur's tummy, causing his unrestrained giggles to break into full out laughter and if it hadn't been for the thick walls that separated the garden from the inside of the building, Arthur probably would've woken the whole house with his laughter. Arthur looked up at his father with adoring eyes and Thomas grinned until suddenly his stomach clenched. Arthur's vibrant eyes were replaced by hollow green orbs and Thomas's grip around his son tightened.

"...Dad? Are you ok?" There was no answer. His father's blue eyes were blind to everyone and everything but what he saw in his own head. "Dad, you're scaring me!" Arthur said, feeling tears well up in his own green eyes, tugging his father's collar.

"You're scaring me!" Thomas fell back to reality at the sound of Arthur's fearful voice and his eyes darted to his son's, distraught to find the dreaded water pooling in the creases of Arthur's wide orbs.

He wrapped his arms around his son who did the same back.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, I didn't mean to scare you." Thomas said as the boy nuzzled into the crook of his neck. "I'm so sorry. I love you Arthur."

"Love you too." Came Arthur's muffled reply, head still buried in his father's shoulder.

Thomas lifted his son's head, smiling softly and rubbing his thumb tenderly over Arthur's cheek before kissing his forehead. The little boy yawned and leant against his father's shoulder and Thomas stroked his back and hair. Soon, Arthur was asleep, breathing softly against Thomas's shirt. The man sighed and picked him up as gently as he could, carrying the boy back to his bed and once again, kissed his forehead.

"Goodnight Arthur." He whispered. "Sleep well."

Author's note: Well, here's another story started. God, I've already got two multi chapter stories to update and I've got ideas for more. How am I ever going to write them all? Oh well.

Anyway, did you like it? This chapter was quite fluffy except for the pinch of angsty background story added. But this story will be getting a lot err... angsty-er. By the way, this WILL be a PrUK story though I doubt that Gilbert will appear in the first few chapters :( So sorry, Prussia fans, you're going to have to wait a while. Oh yeah, Rhys is Wales, Conner is Ireland and Douglas is Scotland. Douglas is the oldest, then Conner, then Rhys and Arthur is the baby :3 He is about six or seven in this chapter. Thomas is their father but their mother doesn't have a name yet.

Moving swiftly onwards, thanks to anyone who reads, reviews or favourites this story and if you like PrUK or USUK, be sure to take a look at my other two stories.

Arthur Kirkland belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz.