A nice, silent morning. Light shining down through the window panes, creating reflections on anything in its path. No noise, no movement, just warmth from the sun's loving rays.

Until a loud beeping fills the room.

Arthur awoke with a jolt, not realizing that the sound was from his alarm clock; that is, until he had slapped it onto the floor. Even then, it continued to annoy the Brit with its awful noise.

The blond Brit groggily got out of bed, picking up the clock to check the time. "Shit!" Was all he said, realizing it was nearly 9am. He had a plane to catch only an hour later. England blindly grabbed at cothes from his closet, not having an idea on what he grabbed. The poor nation even fell over trying to put on his shoes.

England grabbed the pre-packed suitcase and dufflebag from the living room, and made a dash for the door.

Alfred couldn't sleep, despite the ungodly hour of 3am. He knew that he had plenty of time, not needing to worry about anything - but he couldn't get his mind off of it, he couldn't stop thinking about him.

His gaze switched from his ceiling over to a picture sitting on his nightstand. The man could be an ass, but he really missed that blond Englishman.

Crowds, screaming, pushing, shoving - Things that England were tired of right when he stepped through the door of the airport. Passing security and finding his gate, Arthur became instantly relieved. He wasn't a dumbass for sleeping in so late, after all.

He just didn't understand why people were giving him odd, offensive glances.

As he boarded the plane, a little child in one of the front rows pointed and called out, "Look, mummy! He looks funny!" This is when he realized his current outfit was composed of parts of his suit, casual wear and miss-matched shoes.

Once he had sat down in his seat is when he heard chuckles from around seats nearby. 'Bloody divvy,' the Brit thought once he realized the man beside him was laughing as well.

England sighed and tried to get comfortable, drifting off into a deep sleep, too odd for such an hour.

Much later in the day, the taller American stood anxiously in the local airport, near the front doors. All he wanted was for England to get there. Alfred had not eaten all day; He wanted to wait for Arthur. Taking advantage of his height, (though it was nothing compared to Russia), Alfred scanned the crowds for any sight or hint of the Brit.

He could soon see England pushing his way through the crowd, nearly tripping over his own luggage. When he was in a more empty space, Alfred rushed to him- trying not to make him topple over. "G-Get off of me, Alfred!" Arthur cried, trying to push him away. He was glad to see the American, but he was a bit too happy.

Once Alfred let go, he chuckled, and picked the Englishman with his right arm. "Sounds like you missed me," He spoke as he took Arthur's luggage in the other hand, dragging it behind them as they exited.

"For a fatass, I suppose you're pretty strong," Arthur muttered as he buried his face into Alfred's blond hair.

"Fuck you..." Alfred even gave a chuckle, not taking much offence.

"Yeah, I know you will later."