England x Bubbly! Reader Part 2

Arthur Kirkland sat back in his chair, wiping sweat off his brow. His day had been very cheery until you showed up. You, (f/n) (l/n) were truly a horror on his doorstep, even worse than that git Alfred. How had you managed to get in his house in the first place?
A thought struck him, and he leapt from his chair to the door. Good. He nodded. It was locked. Now what about the windows...or the back door?
The blonde raced around, making sure every conceivable and inconceivable entrance was shut, locked, and beared no mark of you. After he was done checking the basement window, he slumped against the cold, brick wall. No sign of you.
Earlier today you had snuck into his house and forced him to let you make him some tea. With your attention-span of a lightning bolt, you had somehow managed to burn the tea. You were subsequently thrown out of his manor.
Arthur winced. Your handiwork had left a permanent mark in the brass tea kettle. It was a good teapot still, but the memories you had left him with caused him to drop it into a trashbag. Along with everything else you had touched. He sighed. It was going to be a lot of work, removing that counter-top.
Arthur shook his head, and began to mount the rickety basement steps as he heard a door open. And shut.
"Bloody hell!" The blonde cried, his viridian eyes wide. The pitter-patter of light footsteps caused him to bolt up the steps. "(f/n)! Get out of my house!" You shut the door in his face, knocking him backward, and locked it. A few strips of peeling, white paint floated off the door from his banging.
Your (h/c) locks sang a curving melody down to your hips, shielding your saddened (e/c) orbs as you watched the Englishman from the other side of the paneled glass. "(f/n)! Let me out! Let me out and get out!" he yelled, his trembling, anger-filled voice from from behind the door. He cursed. How had you gotten in?!
Your voice snapped him from his thoughts, and his now-mussed blonde hair dangled in front of his eyes. "Just stay in there for a little bit, Arty. I've got something I need to do."
You turned away from him, and he couldn't help but notice that while you were smiling, it wasn't your happy-go-lucky smile. It was a hurting smile.
If only he knew why.
You knew you had been annoying earlier, just as you always were, but no one had ever thrown you out of a house before.
You had been annoying, you had stolen in with out his permission, burnt his precious tea, and ruined his pot. Those were just the things you had done to upset him today.
You had been so happy earlier, with him trying to teach you how to make his delicious tea, him calling you love at the end of every sentence. You had been happy because you were with him. Arthur was still banging on the door, yelling something you couldn't hear. You walked out of the kitchen, you walked out of the dining room, out of the house.
At the front steps lay a a huge linen bag that bulging at the sides, and it clanked as you picked it up and carried inside to the hallway. You made a note that Arthur had quieted, probably wondering if you were ever going to let him out, or just let him turn into a skeleton.
You would always be indebted to him for putting up with you, but you knew his patience had a limit, and today you had stepped over the line. So now was time to make up for it all.
You could see that he had trashed the pot, black burn marks contrasting with the deep, brassy metal. There was also a wooden chair, and a pot holder, and measuring spoons...You flinched. All of these things were things you had touched.
You smiled regretfully.
You must hate me, huh, Arty?
You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. You patted a framed picture of a drawing of Captain Hook and Flying Mint Bunny. "I guess this is the last time I'll be seeing you guys." You touched your hand softly to your lips and tapped them each on the nose with your fingertips. "Bye Bye."

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In the basement, Arthur tapped a rhythm into the cold cement steps. It drove him insane to think of just what you could be doing out there. Breaking his precious teapots? Demolishing the house? Were you going to start a fire and would he be burned alive?
No, he decided. He had to get out of here. His eyes flitted to the basement window. There was no way he could get through that. A supermodel probably couldn't even wiggle through there. He wracked his brain, till he remembered something. Didn't he still have his old magic kit? He had abandoned all thoughts of magic a long time ago, but there was sure to be some type of explosive combination he could create.

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There. It was all finished. Everything was how it should be. You rested your hands on your hips. Well, it was all finished except for one thing. You softly set the China on the stove, and the envelope next to it.
You turned around and bid farewell to your surroundings silently, before walking over to the basement door. You opened it, and stepped back.
"Arty?!" He looked up at you, beastly eyebrows furrowed, with a wire in his mouth and wrapped haphazardly around his arms, with a strange mix of powders in a bowl at his feet.
"Hmm?"
"What are you doing Arty?!"
You reached out and grabbed him, pulling with all your strength, and your ripped from the wires. "That's dangerous, Arty!"
"Let go of me, (f/n)!"
You looked past him, and then slowly pieced it together.
"Were you...making a bomb, Arty?"
"Only because you wouldn't let me out! Now let go of me!" Your hold on his lapel loosened and he pried himself away from you. Things were silent as he brushed himself off.
"I'm sorry, Arty."
He looked up at angrily at you.
"For what? Burning the tea, and one of my best teapots? For annoying me for hours on end?" "Yes.." "Oh, is that all you're sorry for, huh, (f/n)?" He had cornered you against the marble countertop. "Do you have anything you'd like to add to the list of offenses?"
Your eyes met his and held his gaze for a moment. Then you leaned in, and kissed softly him on the cheek. "Goodbye, love." you whispered, then slipped out from his arms. He touched his cheek and stared at you, frozen in time. You smiled as you reached the doorway. "You know, I've always wanted to say that to you, since you've always said it to me." You waved goodbye and disappeared.
You...you had always wanted to say that. To him? He had a hard time believing it. The person who had just locked him in a dank basement was you, and could have only ever been you, but, how could it have been you when you opened the door?
He had always loved magic and it's history, but, the sadness and love he had seen in your eyes had been more magical than anything he had ever seen. The blonde grasped his head in his hands, and gasped. Had he never seen it? You were so annoying, and yet so magical, it...he felt his heart beating against his ribs. "You stupid git! How could you fall in love with her? With (f/n)?"
He looked past the doorway, as if searching for a remnant of you, but there was nothing. And he noticed the envelope on the stove. Without hesitating he tore it open, and what he read caused him to drop to his knees.


Dear Arty,
Oh, wait, should I call you Arty, since this is a letter and all? But Arthur seems so formal...ah, dang it, I've strayed again. I practiced for hours and I finally made some tea without burning it. I'm not a very good cook. But I bought an antique chine teapot and filled it up, so I hope you like your gift. Listen, I just want you to know that I am sorry. For everything. You will probably hate me for the rest of your life, but I just want to say that though I've annoyed you, and bugged you out of your skull, all this time I've loved you. You're just so amazing, and I've got nothing compared to you. But I know that now I need to leave, and leave you alone. You've always been so magical to me, and I once dreamed of sharing that magic, but, I know you don't like me. Goodbye, my love. Or should I still call you Arty? Maybe I'll see you again when we're old, and you don't hate me as much. I love you, I love you, iloveyouiloveyou!

"(f/n)." He whispered. "Please don't leave me, (f/n)!"