Here we go again, another one of his stupid parties. What's he trying to prove? His latest orchestral piece is better than anyone else's? The Hungarian sat in front of a vanity, letting these thoughts race through her head. She was wearing a simple light green gown. She protested on wearing anything too frilly, puffy, or anything that included a corset. All the necessary accessories were picked out by Austria, partly because he did not want her holding a frying pan as an accessory. The only thing she was left with was her hair. She was told that it no, it could not be let down for this occasion and that it must be styled somehow.

Growing up, she never cared much for her hair. Only letting it down out of her usual ponytail when she thought it was more 'lady-like'. "Ugh, ez lehetetlen." Her hands tugged at her hair in frustration. How do people even do this? She tried taking her hair in three sections and overlaying them one by one, only to have her fingers beginning to overlap each other. "Szar!"

"Having trouble?" Elizabeta jumped at the sound of another voice. She would have thought it was just a guest from the party, but she recognized that voice anywhere. She turned around to confront the voice, her cheeks flushed beside the pout on her lips.

"Yes, I can't style my hair to save my life."

He chuckled, making her cheeks turn an even brighter color.

"If you want, I can help."

The Hungarian raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You can style hair?"

"I can braid." He answered nonchalantly.

"Then please come over here and free my hands from my hair." Elizabeta huffed while Roderich tried to hide his smirk by rolling his eyes. He began inspecting the nest that held the Hungarian's fingers captive and grabbed the hair brush that was resting on the vanity.

"This might hurt a little bit." He warned as he began tugging at the hair. Hungary winced a few times, but not letting any sound escape her lips. She released a sigh of relief once all of her fingers were freed.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He answered plainly, gently putting the brush back on the vanity. He then proceeded to run his fingers through her hair, making her blush reappear on her face, letting her eyelids slightly drop at the soft contact.

Once the Austrian was satisfied with her hair parted in three separate sections, he began overlapping the strands elegantly, like he was playing one of his instruments. There were only a few split seconds of discomfort when he pulled on the strands to make sure they were nice and tight. He finished the braid once he reached around her for a hair band and wrapped it around the ends.

"There." Hungary stared in amazement as the Austrian backed away to admire his handiwork with a visible smile on his face.

"Wow." She was speechless, left staring at herself, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. She snapped out of her trance when she heard the Austrian's footsteps leaving the room, stopping just before the doorway to look back at her over his shoulder.

"Come on, we're going to miss out on the orchestra." With a nod, she quickly got out of her seat and followed him out of the room. Only one thought raced through her mind after that. How did he learn to braid?

Well! There you go! My first Fic! Sorry it's a one-shot... an extremely short one... Oh well, it's a start right? Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this! I really appreciate everything! (Also, sorry for any grammatical errors there may be...) A Bientot! ~Arie

Translations: (I try not to use Google translate... but I'm afraid these translations might not be better x.x sorry.)

Ez lehetetlen: Come on.

Szar!: Shit!