This is getting moved to this account from my side. I'm cleaning things up a little bit, so this is slightly (hopefully) better than before.

Grumbling as the sun poured directly into his eyes Arthur sat up and reached for the cord to the blinds. It was, as it was every morning, just out of his reach. Without trying to fix the problem he got dressed into his casual clothes; jeans, a short sleeved t-shirt and some sneakers. It was a Saturday morning; the prime time to catch up with a small group of unicorns that he hadn't been able to talk with for a few weeks. He had just been so busy with his miscellaneous work that he hadn't gotten around to visiting with them, and that made him feel pretty bad.

Out of habit he went to grab his coffee cup off its place on the edge of his counter but instead encountered a sheet of paper. Wadding it up in his hand he thought he had a good idea why it was replacing his favorite mug. Another one of Alfred's lame "follow the directions and find the treasure" things. Really, his room-mate was quite the eccentric. But what could he expect? The poor boy was clearly a pure American.

Things of that sort had happened to him far too many times; once it was his clothes after he got out of the shower for Pete's sake! Snorting he decided to see what sort of far-fetched thing Alfred had done this time. Smoothing out the scrap of paper he was surprised to find it in fairy legible handwriting unlike the previous notes had been. The last few times he had been left a letter the scrawl on the paper could barely even be called writing.

"Go to the park a few blocks away and sit at that bench." Immediately an annoyed expression crossed his features.

" 'That bench,' he must mean the one where…" The blonde Englishman trailed off not wanting to continue out loud, even if no one was listening. One night after going to one of the nearby fraternity house's parties Alfred had found him practically naked on that cold, unforgiving park bench. After getting drunk he had agreed to play strip poker and had gotten beaten badly, he was just lucky that the fraternity boys were generous enough to let him keep his boxers; he didn't know what he would have ended up doing if they hadn't. The Englishman always told himself that if he wasn't intoxicated he would have won, but somewhere inside he knew that that was a blatant lie.

Rolling his eyes he reflected on how his train of thought had went from being annoyed with his room-mate to feeling embarrassed while standing alone in his own kitchen. Shaking it off he grabbed his jacket off the back of one of the dining table chairs and walked out the front door. Hoping that he wasn't still looking worked up he attempted to appear calm as he walked to the park. 'Come now, he'll just give my cup back just all of those other things he's taken from me before…' But somehow this time he wasn't convinced.

Lost within his own mind he sat down between the two thin maple trees that were on either side of the bench. The hard slats pressed against his back as he waited for Alfred to appear from any number of the surrounding bushes. After five minutes he was almost completely done analyzing the lake that was directly in front of his sitting location. It was a nice morning, with a small breeze making gentle ripples on the water. The liquid itself was a shade somewhere in between gray and blue but it wasn't morbid or anything of the sort. It was actually kind of comforting, especially with the green tones that appeared in places from the weeds growing underneath the surface.

The blonde's eyes caught sight of a leaf falling from one of the trees off to his right as it fell almost directly next to him after it was carried by the breeze. Then he felt like a complete idiot when he noticed that there was something set on the bench next to him. It was a sauce packet from Taco Bell, one of Alfred's favorite restaurants. The saying on it was "Will you marry me?" And underneath in thin Sharpie his own name was written.

"What's the meaning of this Alfred? Surely you're not serious…" The Englishman addressed his American friend as though he was there, though in reality he had no idea where the "hero" was. What should he say? He never had any idea that Alfred felt that way about him… There was no indication whatsoever, but then again his friend was pretty obtuse. There had to be some easy way to let him down…

Thick brows furrowed he tried to find a way out of his current situation. Maybe just say no straight out? No, that was much too blunt and not at all what a gentleman should do.

So consumed he didn't notice that Alfred had moved to stand in front of him.

"Yo Artie!" Startled the Englishman looked up, unconsciously blushing as he was found holding the words that were causing him so much internal trouble. He didn't even correct the ever so annoying nickname that the American had used. Said person leaned over to whisper something in his ear.

"April fools."

"…" This blasted thing was all some prank?! He had put so much effort into finding a way to say no and all the time Alfred must have been secretly laughing his guts out somewhere watching his expressions. Not wanting to grace his "friend" with a response he ripped the packet open roughly and squirted the sauce into his face before walking away. What a great way to ruin a perfectly good Saturday. The entire time he was thinking of ways to say no all he wanted to exclaim was yes.