England had long blonde hair. That was a fact everyone knew. Her hair was always kept in two outrageously long pigtails, or a bun on special occasions. Not many people had ever seen her with her hair down, or her glasses off, in her 'punk mood', or any other rare sighting for her.

Alice was pretty. That was yet another fact no one could deny, no matter how much they teased her and told her otherwise. She was breathtaking, really, even if her breasts were a little on the small side. She was a little too short for her liking, but she could still pack a whallop. She'd beat your ass to the ground if you weren't careful. Plus, she always scowled, or wore an arrogant grin on her unblemished face. Although she was a bit too skinny for her size, her hips were probably the largest part of her body. But, nonetheless, Alice was pretty.

She wore thin, red glasses most days. In extremely important events like meetings with her boss, she wore her black pair, which were reserved simply for that purpose. Her hair would be pulled into a neat bun, like a prim and proper lady. She would dress sharply, respectively.

Meetings with the other nations, however, were a different story. She dressed in nice clothes, although they weren't near as nice as the ones she wore with people of higher importance. Sometimes, she dressed casually, just as everyone else did. Casual dress meetings were most nations favorite, because you could come in your pjs five minutes late, and no one would care. At all.

Still, even in situations like that, she wore her hair up and out of the way, along with her red spectacles. Alice needed people to like her because she was smart and powerful, not because she was pretty. So, she never really payed too much attention to the way she looked. Of course, Alice cared what people thought of her, so she did dazzle herself up, but she didn't care nearly enough to spend an extra hour on it in the morning.

But she was still pretty regardless.

And everyone knew it. Especially Alfred, who got caught staring at her more times than he was willing to admit. She always assumed he was staring at her because she was the opposite of pretty, but everyone else knew that was not the case. Every time Alfred was caught staring at her for long periods of time, his face would erupt into a magnificent blush. Francis found this very amusing, as did Matthew and the other nations. They'd chuckle and tease him for a while, Alfred being unable to deny how much he liked her. Although she thought he hated her.

Sometimes she would just glare at him, others she would tear up. But, Alfred's favorite response was when her face inflamed, and she looked away shyly, looking back up at him many times afterwards, just to see if he was still looking. Alfred thought that she looked absolutely adorable when she did that, and it didn't help his already outrageous crush on the cute little British lady. He'd smile at her softly, causing the blush to deepen and her words to stutter.


Alice rolled her eyes, her irritation spiking. If the other nations didn't stop fucking bickering, they'd never get out of there. It didn't help that her head hurt like hell. She hadn't gotten as much sleep as she'd liked the night before, only around three hours, and was exhausted. She rubbed her temples in annoyance, glaring viciously, only just restraining from screaming at the others to just shut the hell up. France and Switzerland had been arguing about something stupid for almost fifteen minutes, and which point Germany had started yelling at the two of them. Other nations were taking sides, such as Hungary and Canada. Others, like Austria and England, just wanted some fucking peace, so they either sided with Germany or just quietly sat in aggravation.

"Well, Suisse, everything you say is erroné because I say so!" Francis crossed his arms, turning his head to the side smugly.

"Thank doesn't make any damn sense, you stupid Frenchman!" Vash was out of his chair, his brown suit and red tie both crinkled, making insane arm motions as he spoke. Lilli tried desperately to calm him down, but the poor girl was so quiet there was no way he could hear her over all the noise.

"Both of you are being immature! You are erwachsenen, nationen! Halt die Klappe!" Ludwig howled, banging his fists on the table, veins popping. Feliciano tried desperately to get his spouse to calm down, but to no avail. Germany had hit his breaking point, and no one, not even Italy, could stop him.

Unless everybody shut the fuck up real soon, England would kill them. Violently.

Her head throbbed, her headache growing worse and worse with every yell or scream. God, she really wanted to kill them all. She pressed harder on her temples, rubbing in circular motions, hoping that the extra pressure would make it go away.

It didn't.

She swore under her breath, and ran her fingers through her bangs, then her long blonde pigtails, successfully working out any knots or tangles that may have appeared in either. She tried her best to ignore the incessant banging of Ludwig's fists against the table and everyones shouts, but her patience was wearing thin. Dangerously thin. To the point where, if she exploded, she wasn't sure if she could stop herself from doing something stupid.

Her pigtails pulled on head painfully, at the roots of her hair, causing a sort of aching sting. She grimaced, rubbing her head. The meeting had gone on longer than usual because of the arguing. Normally, she'd be back at home by now relaxing on her couch with a cuppa. Her hair would be down, or braided, and she would be watching a rerun of one of her favorite shows or reading a book. But no. They just had to have a useless spat and run overtime.

Her entire body hurt, and she reached around to rub her neck. The pain on her head only got worse, and she visibly winced. She sighed, ready to leave.

Then, an idea struck her.

She could take her hair down.

That would solve one of her problems, at least. She tugged on the top of one ponytail, loosening the hold that the elastic had on her hair. She pulled it completely from her hair in one swift motion, tugging the second free just as fast. She ran her fingers through her now free hair, loving the way a majority of the tension evaporated from that single task. Sighing contently, she smiled, leaning back in her chair.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Suddenly, Alice realized just how quiet the room had gotten. No one was yelling, no one was banging on tables. She cracked one eye open, noticing everyone was looking at her with mixed expressions. She sat up quickly, hands flying to her lap, both eyes popping open in embarrassment.

"What?! What are all of you looking at?!" She snapped, twitching her hands in her lap. She glared suspiciously around the room, puffing her pink cheeks out in a pout. This wasn't how she was expecting to get them to shut up. They probably thought she looked hideous, and that's why they were staring.

She should have left her hair up.

But there was no way that would cause such a reaction. "Seriously! What the bloody hell are you mindless gits looking at?! Is there something on my face? Can you see through my blouse or something?" She grunted reaching to touch her face, then looking down at her chest. Both were fine, as far as she could tell. She frowned, her eyes widening a little in horror, growing increasingly concerned and frustrated.

"Why are you doing that?! Stop fucking staring at me!" She squealed, red faced.

Alfred stuttered, his face bright red as well, maybe even brighter. It reached around his neck and his ears, and he looked absolutely ridiculous. He stuttered almost mutely, unable to form words at all. He looked like a fish. Many others had red faces, though not as bad.

Alice was absolutely gorgeous.

"You are positively beau, mon cheri~!" Alice flushed a bright red, staring down at her lap. Her forest green eyes filled with hot tears, embarrassed and humiliated beyond belief. He was such a pile of shit. Why did he, and everyone else for that matter, feel the need to make her feel like that?! Building her confidence just so he could sleep with her, and then dumping her ass once again. She sniffled, bringing her hands up to wipe the tears that began to leak. She hiccuped softly, hiding behind her bangs.

"Fuck you, Francis." She hissed at him darkly. She yanked her glasses off, throwing them against the table roughly, furiously scrubbing at her eyes. The glasses hit the table with a sharp sound, the glass cracking on impact. She cursed, reaching for them. Looking over the damage, Alice decided she'd had enough. Every tear she'd had bottled up inside of her spilled over the edge. She sobbed great heaving sobs, unable to control herself.

France gawked at her, his eyes wide. Probably just staring at how incredibly ugly she was. "Cheri, what is wrong? Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong?" He looked at the other members of the room, confusion written on his features, his violet eyes sparked in utter bafflement. They only stared back with the same hint of his expression, shrugging their shoulders. Then they stared at Alice, both concern and confusion etched across their countenance.

"U-Um, M-Miss Britain? I-Is everything okay?" Northern Italy squeaked, unsure of what to do. Even if the two nation's didn't talk often, or necessarily get along, he still cared about her, and certainly didn't want to see her cry! He couldn't stand to see pretty ladies cry!

Alice shook her head, more hot tears falling down her cheeks and onto her outfit. Her chest bounced erratically, her stomach heaving with every labored intake of breath.

"Alice?" Alfred said timidly, immense worry etched on his face. He hadn't seen Alice cry in a long time, and every time he did it felt like someone twisted a knife through his gut.

Even when he was a colony, Alice was strong. She didn't cry, and she took great pride in her abilities. She was good at what she did, and nothing bothered her. But, there were always times when she broke, just like everyone else, and those were the times he and his brother felt the most useless. Sometimes she cried when she was scared, or far too stressed. Sometimes she cried when she and Francis argued. But those tears only came a handful of times. The only time Alfred could honestly say that the crying was his fault was after the Revolution, the end of the last battle. Canada always told him what she was like, and it was so hard to believe. So very hard. He'd broken her then. He'd broken the strongest nation.

Alice didn't cry. She was strong, and she could do anything she set her mind to.

But, here she was. Crying. Unable to do anything else but let everything go, no one knowing why, no one understanding. "Alice? What's wrong?" He tried again, much more quietly and softly than before. He made his voice as gentle as possible, and she looked up at him with red, puffy eyes. She wiped at them, shaking her head and turning away.

"N-Nothing," she sniffed, choking back another sob. "I'm fine." Her small frame shook slightly, only just barely noticeable.

Alfred frowned. There was obviously something wrong, or else she wouldn't be crying. She didn't just cry. She wasn't one of those people. She never had been. "Bullshit. What. Is. Wrong." She stared at him, her eyes wide.

"I-I-I-I-" Tears spilled again, unstoppable. Another violent sob tore through her, shaking her body painfully. Her green eyes were red rimmed as she stared at Alfred, helpless and desperate. Her hands quivered, her chest bouncing as she hiccupped.

She hadn't cried like this in years.

And it hurt.

She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Her mind was blank, fuzzy, pain filled.

Suddenly she screamed, panic finally unable to be held down. She curled in on herself, tightly fisting her hands into her hair and tugging. She was so scared, so scared. Everyone hated her, they were all laughing, and she was the center of it all.

So scared, so scared.

Make it go away!

Alfred jumped to his feet, beside her in an instant. He placed his hands on her trembling shoulders, rubbing what he hoped to be soothing circles into them. He needed to calm her down, for both of their sake's. Watching her cry, for reasons still unknown to him, was torture. She didn't deserve to cry like this, she didn't deserve any of it.

She tried swatting him away pitifully, weakly. Her defenses were falling, crumbling, and she could do nothing to stop it. Alfred's hands shook as he tried to keep himself together. It wouldn't help Alice if he broke down too. He brought his hands to her tear stained cheeks, rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs.

"Alice, it's alright. Whatever it is, it'll be alright." He said as soothingly as he possibly could. He hoped it hadn't been drowned out by her sobs, but he had to try. "Alice, what's wrong?" In response, she could only give a wail, such a sound that it twisted painfully in his gut.

He couldn't stop himself from wincing. What had happened? Why was she so upset?

"Alice, honey," he spoke softly to her, not wanting to freak her out more. "Do you need some water? Do you want to go sit in the lobby or something?" She nodded, still trembling and howling uncontrollably. He held out his hand, offering to help her up. Alice took his hand, though she couldn't bring herself to actually move. "Do I need to carry you?" He offered, hoping she wouldn't yell at him for the mere suggestion.

Instead, she nodded hesitantly, allowing herself to shift slightly so she would be easier to lift. He scooped her up gingerly, not wanting to hurt her. He ignored the other's stares in the room, opting to instead make his way from the crowded place as swiftly as possible. Her arms instinctively wrapped themselves around his neck, and she blushed through her tears, not wanting to move them. He held her closely to his frame, wanting her to feel safe, ever so safe. It worked, surprising both of them. Her head was hovering over his heartbeat, the steady rhythm calming her frayed nerves. She could feel herself slipping slowly into sleep, though she tried so hard to keep herself awake. She was so, so tired, even before her tears, which didn't help at all.

Somehow, they were in the lobby all too quickly. Alfred made his way over to one of the plush chairs, lowering her down slowly. She sensed the movement, guessing what was happening, and held him even tighter, burying her face in his neck. She did her best to angle away from the oncoming chair, wanting to stay in Alfred's embrace as long as possible. She felt safe and loved - something she hadn't felt in hundreds of years.

Alfred was startled when he found himself feeling relieved at her reaction. He didn't want to let her go, and now, he didn't have to. He turned around, sitting down slowly in the chair. He held her closer, if that was even possible at this point, risking letting his head lean against hers for a moment.

He allowed himself to just hold her for a few moments, letting her get her bearings. She seemed to be calming herself down now, her sobs turning into occasional quiet sniffles. He rocked her slowly, humming to her ever so silently.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She inhaled shakily, giving a weak nod. She swiped at her eyes, lifting her heavy body from his neck and shoulder.

"'M sorry." She slurred, her voice groggy from her tears. Alfred took her hand, giving it a slight squeeze.

"There's nothing to be sorry for." He promised, his voice firm but gentle. He smiled at her warmly, giving her a soft kiss to her head. Her eyes widened in surprise, her fingers reaching shakily to the spot. Alfred felt a twinge of nervousness. Was that the wrong thing to do?

Alice bit her lip. "But… But I thought…" She trailed off, her large eyes staring at him in confusion.

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows. "You thought… What?"

She swallowed. "I thought you hated me?"

Panic crept up his throat.

Hated her? Why would he hate her?

He thought she hated him.

"No!" He started, his voice coming out in a shocked whisper. She jumped, her expression a mixture a fear and confusion.

"W-What? N-No?" Alice whispered in disbelief.

"No! I could never hate you! I love you!" As soon as he said it, his face inflamed. Alfred nearly regretted saying it. Alice didn't love him. Alice would never love him. Alice hated him. How could she not, after all the things he'd done?

She stared at him in shock, almost as if she wasn't comprehending the words. Alfred winced at her expression, wishing he hadn't said a thing, hadn't done a thing.

"W-What? Love me? Why... How... How could you love me? I mean, look at me, I'm the ugliest woman alive - body and face! I'm mean and arrogant! Why would you love me?!" The tears were back, dripping down her face in a way that made Alfred's stomach drop and his heart to pound fiercely against his chest. Then he realized- the tears and anger weren't directed at him- they were directed at herself.

"How could you say that? How could you say that?! You're beautiful, Alice! You're the kindest person I've ever met! I love that you're arrogant! I think it's awesome! I love everything about you, Alice!"

"B-But why!" She wailed, bringing her hands up to shield her face.

"I don't really know… I can't really explain it… I just know that everytime I see you, my stomach flutters and my heart thumps so hard it almost hurts. That's what being in love feels like, right?"

"T-That…." She hiccupped, looking up at him, eyes wide and red from tears. "I-I feel that way w-when I'm around you t-too…"

Alfred couldn't help the way his heart soared.

He gulped nervously. "R-Really?" It was his turn to stutter now, and Alice giggled slightly.

She nodded just as hesitantly, however. "R-Really."

Alfred bit his lip, turning his eyes away for a mere second before peeking back at the tiny woman. He didn't want to fuck this up; he'd never even thought he'd get this far.

He slowly raised a hand to her cheek, letting it rest there softly. Alice leaned into the touch, his hands cool against her hot face. She sighed in pleasure, blinking her eyes up at him. They were still red and covered in tears, but her expression was anything but sad or angry.

He brushed his thumb beneath her eye, wiping away any tears that happened to be there. She sniffled softly, smiling up at him warmly. Her eyes fluttered closed, a hum of happiness leaving her mouth.

And then, Alfred couldn't wait any longer.

He leaned in, placing his soft, warm lips on hers. She jumped in surprise, but quickly melted into the kiss eagerly. She reached up to tangle her fingers into his hair, angling her body so it faced his own, rather than the rest of the room.

The kiss was short, chaste, but it left Alfred feeling breathless. Alice's eyes slowly opened, her expression warm and loving, her breathing just as heavy as his.

"Alfred..." She mumbled, laying her head on his shoulder. "I love you."

Alfred smiled in response, leaning down to kiss her head. "And I love you." He smiled, pausing before speaking again. "Are you ready to go back?"

"Hm... No, I think I'd rather stay right here with you..." She hummed, closing her eyes.

Alfred smiled, leaning in to kiss her again. "What a coincidence. I just so happen to want the same thing."

He whispered the words against her plump, kiss-swollen lips, placing a hand on the back of her neck to bring them together once again.

"I'm glad we can agree."