Please Review. Seriously, It's like the fuel need to keep writing!
Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia...
"Alfred! I got the cake from the bakery!" Arthur exclaimed, putting the pastry on the kitchen table.
"Yes!" The American rushed down and leaped towards the dessert.
"Stop!" the Brit shouted, swiftly pushing the cake aside causing his husband to crash into the table. "This is for our son's graduation on Saturday!"
"How was I suppose to know that?" the American asked, getting off the table, and rubbing his now bruised head.
"Considering the cake says 'Congratulations on your graduation Peter' in big gold letters, I would've thought it was pretty obvious!"
"Well, sorry," Alfred apologized sarcastically. "I didn't have a chance to that midair, you know, while I was jumping in the cake."
"Well, maybe if you had ta-"
"Shh, let's talk about something else now."
"No! You can't just-"
"Shush! See this, this is me, changing the topic," the American asserted. "So, how are we going to do this on Saturday? Peter goes to the school, gets his diploma then he comes home and we have cake?"
"Of course not! Our son has a graduation ceremony and then we have a party to celebrate with our friends and family."
"Okay... I still don't understand what this has to do with my cake, though."
"We serving the cake at the party, you twit."
"Wait, so are you telling me that I don't just have to share my cake with you guys, but with like, 100 other people?"
"It's not your bloody cake! It's for the party that we are having in order to congratulate our son on his graduation!"
"Why do horrible things happen to heroes like me?" Alfred whined. "Wait, you said Saturday, do you mean this Saturday?"
"No," Arthur began sarcastically. "I meant ne-"
"Shh, there's no time for your sarcasm, this is serious. We're in the month of April, right? Also known as the rainiest month of the year?"
"No, all our calendars just say it's April be-"
"What did I just say?No. Sarcasm. What time is the party? When would we serve the cake?"
"The party's around 4, so we'd probably serve it around 6, but why doe-"
"And where's this party going to be?"
"At Lincoln Park, but I still do-"
"Give me a sec," the bespeckled man said, whipping out his phone and doing a quick google search. "Yes!" he exclaimed, doing a fist pump in victory before looking back at his husband.
"So, we're changing the time of the party to 6 and serving dessert at 8. We are having two tents, one for the cake and one for the actual party."
"What? No, you can't do that!" the Brit replied infuriated.
"And that's because?" Alfred questioned, motioning for the Englishman to continue.
"Because I'm pretty sure that you weren't even aware our son was graduating high school up until 5 minutes ago!"
"Really? Then how do I know that the ceremony is this Saturday?" America asked smugly.
"Because I just fucking told you that!"
"Sure, you did. Just keep telling yourself that." the blue-eyed man said condescendingly, patting his hand on his spouse's head.
"Get your bloody hands off of me, you twat!" the dirty blond cried, swatting away Alfred's hand. "Besides, it's too late anyway, it took me months to plan this party. From sending the invitations to finding a venue all the way down to finding a caterer. And at any rate, everyone knows the party at 4-"
"Done," the American interrupted, clicking the send button on his phone. "All of our guests and the catering company have been informed about the time change."
"What? How do you know who I invited? Or the caterin-"
"Shh," the blue-eyed man said, putting his finger on Arthur's lips. "It's all been done. Don't question it. Now, all we have to do is wait till the party arrives."
~~~~~~The day of the party, 7:59 p.m.~~~~~~~~
So far, the party was going extremely well. Everyone was eating and talking outside, rather than inside the tent. They were dark clouds swarming in the sky, but nobody paid them any mind.
"Hey Alfred, it's almost 8. I think we should start cutting the cake," Arthur suggested.
"Uh huh, just give me a minute," the American replied looking up into the sky. Come on , don't fail me now, the bespeckled man thought. As if on cue, thunder vibrated through the sky and rain started to fall furiously from the clouds.
"Oh well, guess the party's ending early. Tell everyone to get inside the party tent. I'll go inform the guests on the other side of the park." And with that, Alfred ran into the crowd of people in front of him.
"Wait, we can still," the Brit began, but stopped when he realized his husband was already gone in the sea of people.
~~~~~ 10 minuets later in the party tent ~~~~~~~~
"So, I'm guessing we're not having dessert?" a guest named Jeff asked Arthur once everyone was inside.
"I don't think so, considering the cake is in the other tent and no one is going to go out in that storm just for dessert." the Englishman replied.
"I suppose you right," Jeff agreed. "Hey, do you know where Alfred is?"
"I can't say that I do," the dirty blond said, standing on his toes and scanning the crowded room to see if he locate the American. "Last time I say him, he was going to the other half of the park to tell the guests over there to come inside."
Meanwhile, in the cake tent, Alfred was on his fifth hand full of cake. "This was almost too easy," he chuckled to himself, eating some more dessert.
I recently went to a party that was held in a backyard and we had to come inside because it was raining. We couldn't have any dessert because it was outside in a tent-like thing, and no one wanted to go get it. I wanted to but no one wouldn't let me. I would seriously be that person to go out in the rain with a fork, and go eat the cake by myself(but apparently that's rude, or at least that's what people tell me). The whole time I was like, I think these people planned this. I mean, you can still have your party and not have to share a slice of your cake! Brilliant! That's what I would do. Then I was like, Oh my god, Alfred! Thus, this story was born. Please Review! Like honestly, even a simple 'Yo, wats up? I liked you story, peace out!' would suffice! Well anyway, Ta ta for now!