"I just don't understand. I usually have all of the dames surrounding me," cried Francis, letting his head rest on his arms. France and Prussia were currently seated in a small American cafe, having been invited to a party hosted by Alfred the day before. The Frenchman was drowning his sorrows in expensive cappuccino, while his friend attempted to comfort him.

"So what if one woman didn't find you irresistible," he replied, trying to help. This only made the blond cry harder. Gilbert patted his back awkwardly, suddenly understanding why Antonio had refused to come when they had been invited. Patrons of the restaurant began to give the men odd looks.

The Prussian man looked across the small restaurant for some means of escape, spotting a brown-eyed girl sitting in an otherwise empty booth. Her silky brunette head ducked down briefly to take a sip from her drink. She was bent over several large books, jotting something down into a spiral notebook. Gilbert smiled to himself, leaving the seat next to his friend to make his way toward her table.

She looked toward him as he approached, obviously confused by the way her brows knit together. The man smiled his signature smirk, something that worked wonders with most other women. No reaction.

"Guten Morgen, Frau," he drawled. He slid into the booth opposite her and continued to smirk. She blinked at him, trying to come up with a decent response. "I am Gil, but you can call me awesome," he introduced.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Stop trying to hit on me, saukerl," she shot back. Gilbert was surprised by her immediate distaste for him. She saved her place in her notebook with a pencil and began to pack up her things.

"You know," he continued, taking one of her hands in his. "I'm very interesting in studying you." He paused to let what he said sink in. "I mean, studying with you, of course." He winked. She groaned, pulling her hand out of his reach.

"Rühr mich nicht an, Schwein." She looked at him icily. The fact that she was speaking his native didn't even register with him. He never had a woman walk away from him. If he started now, he'd end up a sniveling-though still remarkably attractive-mess just like France.

Grasping onto anything to say to keep the woman occupied, he blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Did you know pigs are actually clean animals and the only reason the roll in mud is because they can't produce sweat to cool off?" he asked, rushing the words together.

The woman turned back around, startled and a bit surprised by the intelligent outburst. His ruby-red eyes stared desperately at her and a hint of a smile curled at her lips. She quickly grabbed a pen from her purse and scribbled something into her receipt before handing it to the Prussian and walking out.

The Prussian's lips pulled up in a smile. On the paper was a full ten digits followed by eight words hastily written on the bottom.

'Ich bin Tiffany. You can call me later.'

It's just a little Prussia ficlet I put together. I hope you enjoyed it. :) ~Des