໒ྀི₊ alfred  ݂֯ ♡ิ ִ america

Ever since Alfred's new boss took charge, the changes in his appearance and personality have been impossible to ignore at this point.

His usual loud and energetic self was long far gone, his youthful face constantly filled with bruises, and his soulful blue eyes rimmed with dark circles.

Today it was as chaotic as any other world meeting; Arthur and Francis fighting in the back while Ludwig tried to put everything back in order, but what truly caught your eye was Alfred. He didn't seem okay. He wasn't shouting, claiming to be a hero, or eating a burger, he was just.. sitting there. He looked way thinner than you remembered, his glasses had a crack on them, and he had a black eye too.

Filled with worry, you went to sit besides him to ask him what's wrong. When you asked him, he forced a smile, which wasn't convincing, and tried to brush it off.
"Totally! I'm feeling just right, dude."
He wasn't okay, he was far from being it. His bomber jacket seemed big on him now, his hands shaking ever so slightly. No. He wasn't okay.