Don't teachers always ruin the best moments?

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

It turned out that Arthur was in Alfred's next class, ELA. Arthur was definitely more gifted in deciphering dead peoples' writings than the American. They both walked in together and Alfred decided that this would be a good time to get to know the Brit more. For some reason, he wanted them to be friends.

"So, why'd you move to America?" Alfred started off the conversation. They were supposed to be doing some partner work on researching the background of the book they'd start next week, but no one was actually doing that. Conversations of the summer holidays buzzed around them.

"My brother, he wanted to go to college here and my mother thought it would be a great idea if we packed up the whole family and moved here. So far it hasn't been enjoyable." He grumbled, his dark eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah, I haven't really moved much in my life, in fifth grade I transferred here, but I've lived in America all my life." Alfred awkwardly added, then took a minute to scribble down an answer before continuing on a different topic. "I've got a brother too, his name is Matthew, we're twins."

"I have four older brothers." Arthur returned and he paled.

"Well shit, you win." The British teenager smirked.

"Usually they're not bad, they picked on me more when we were younger, but the oldest one moved out, the second oldest found his soulmate, the third is at college here, and the fourth is taking a year off of school before finding a college that will take his sorry arse. That leaves me." He explained, picking at his pencil.

"That sounds sad." Alfred answered.

The Brit glanced up,"It's not sad, I love it without them, much better without one of them waiting around a corner to attack me. What about you and your brother?"

Bad topic. "Oh! We're great." Alfred lied. He felt a little bad for lying so easily to him, but it was complicated, and he didn't want to explain it to a stranger.

"Good. So, what other classes do you have?" Arthur continued, thankfully not pushing the subject. Arthur was in a lower science and in European History rather than American History like Alfred. That left PE as their last class together. That was good, Alfred need a friend in there, Kiku was the hour before. That day was just handing out lockers to everyone. Tomorrow they would be actually be changing into gym clothes and starting a game.

When he got home, he already had a worksheet from math to finish, so Alfred chose to lock himself up in his room. Anything to get away from Matt and Gilbert's flirting. They seemed to like to rub it in. The magic universe chose us to be together and now we're going question and annoy you about your beliefs. Couldn't they get a life?

Alfred could here Gilbert's loud talking through the floor, as he was upstairs, an "awesome" every few words. The American tried to focus on his homework, but after another minute of them, Alfred needed a break. He shoved away from his desk and went to the kitchen, snacks always helped. Instead of a snack, he got his twin and his boyfriend. Damn, he thought they were in the living room.

"Oh, hey Alfred!" About time you showed up! Still seeing everything unawesome in black n' white?" The German laughed loudly. He was the whitest person Alfred had ever seen, bright white hair and barely greyer skin. His dark grey uniform clashed with the paleness of him, but complemented his sharp grey eyes.

"Yeah." Alfred muttered. It wasn't that he hated Gilbert, he was sort of an asshole, though. They could probably be decent friends, or at least brother-in-laws if he'd respect Alfred's non-belief in the whole color-soulmates bullshit. You can't miss what you never had and he had never had colors.

"Lame! You should find your soulmate soon! Everything's much more awesome with color. Like my eyes are the awesome red color! You can't even tell, you're missing the awesomeness of looking at me in color." He kept talking and bugging and awesoming, how could this guy be Mattie's soulmate?

"Sure." Alfred tried to ignore the German. No matter what filter Gilbert was in, Alfred still bet he was a jerk. He dug through the fridge, claiming a silver Sprite and a dark grey bag of chips from the cabinet.

"So?" The white teenager asked, Alfred straightened up and look at him. He must have asked something while Alfred was ignoring him.

"So what?"

"Not even listening to awesome me, so bummed about it. What about your soulmate?" Gilbert added, then repeated.

"What about it?" Alfred humored him, knowing immediately that he had nothing to say on the matter, nothing positive at least. There wasn't even a matter to begin with.

"Well are you doing anything to find yours? Like going to meets and shaking hands with everyone, all that crap?" He asked, the American had to refrain from rolling his eyes.

"Of course not."

"Why not? Don't you want to find your soulmate?"

Hesitation, no, he really didn't. He didn't care about soulmates, they weren't real. "No."

"What?" Gilbert looked shocked, and looked back at Mattie. His brother hadn't said anything the whole time. "Why the hell not?"

He had already gone this far, why go back now? "Because, honestly, soulmates are bullshit." He shrugged.

"Al-" Matthew began, only to be cut off by the German.

"THEY AREN'T BULLSHIT, ARSCHLOCH! HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THE COLORS!? OR ME AND MATTHEW!?" Gilbert shouted, obviously furious.

"YOU AND MATTHEW AREN'T REAL!" Alfred yelled back, the adrenaline causing his mouth to act while his brain didn't. The two teenagers in black and white stared with wide eyes.

"How can you say that?" Mattie whispered, looking upset, almost offended.

Alfred sighed shakily, Gilbert wanted to hit him, he could tell. "I know you. I see you with him. I knew you before you met him, and I know you now. What you two have isn't real. It doesn't matter, not in the long haul. It's built on something that told you to be together. It's not real. I know you, Matt. This isn't real, and you're not going to be happy with him, a year from now, a decade. Not really. You might say you are, but I know you won't be. You're only together because something said you should be."

"Get out." Matthew had to hate him now. It was obvious. He was shaking as he said those two words, but Alfred wasn't sure if it was from anger or fear. He knew he was right, he had to know. Matthew wasn't stupid. Alfred complied. He wished he could change it, but he was right. Matthew and Gilbert weren't real.

A week passed in between then and the Friday PE class. Alfred and Matthew didn't speak. Alfred didn't blame his brother, he was the one who said it all, but it still hurt. They weren't the same anymore, he didn't think they'd ever get back to what they had been before.

Alfred managed to push his brother away from his mind at school, Arthur was a main component in this. The Brit and American had grown closer, Alfred dared to call Arthur one of his better friends. He was full of stories, unlike the others, whose Alfred had already heard or lived through.

"Then I almost burnt the house down. Now my mother won't let me near a microwave anymore." Arthur finished and Alfred burst out laughing. This was the story of Arthur's ban of microwaves, ending with a night stay at the fire department. The locker room was full of chatter as boys trickled in from their last classes and began to change for gym.

"Wow! That's great! I didn't think anyone could suck that badly at cooking. It's so easy." Alfred returned, finally cracking his combination and opening his locker.

The Brit had already begun to change,"Its not-" They both froze in the lively and crowded room. In Arthur pulling off his shirt and Alfred reaching for his own uniform, their skin had brushed. The touch was quick, skin was warm, the sensation didn't even linger. Yet their worlds erupted into color anyway.