Francis was absolutely overwhelming. Arthur was sure that by the time the day was done, the two of them had to of visited every single men's clothing store in the world. He probably tried on millions of different shirts, thousands of pants and all kinds of musty, floral cologne. Arthur could not smell anything but mixed cologne, his poor arms ached from changing in and out of so many outfits.

Along the way, Francis told him all kinds of ways to woo over that special someone's heart. Some topics were completely unspeakable while others were so specific. He'd get straight down to the details of how certain approaches can affect types of emotions or how the right type of flowers can show the right kind of message.

Arthur was thoroughly exhausted as he trudged through the front door of his luxurious home, mind pounding and his eyes burning.

"That was so fun! It has been forever since someone has come to my aid! Combien il est passionnant!" France exclaimed gleefully, prancing through the door.

"Well if you ask me that was the most exhausting day of my life." Arthur groaned; face planting into a soft couch cushion. He groaned in happiness to its outstanding comfort.

Francis raised a brow, "Oh s'il vous plait Arthur, you make it seem like I was torturing you."

"You were! My god! I don't understand how you can do these kinds of things! Bloody hell! " Arthur yelled from beneath the pillow.

"Well you learned the ins," Francis chuckled, "and outs of love. So my work here is done."

Arthur waved a pathetic hand towards the door, "Yes, yes thank you. Now please, allow me to have some time to myself."

Francis smirked, "Ah, to think of all the wonderful things you shall do to la fleur mignonne?"

Arthur blushed terribly, flinging a pillow at the frog, "Leave, before I bash in that warty face of yours!"

Francis laughed, dodging the pillow as he leaped through the doorway, "You are back to your old self again!"

Arthur sighed; being with that man was more aggravating than trying to teach Alfred how to chew with his mouth closed.

"Did I really just do it again?" He asked himself, wondering when the torment will cease.

His eyes poked out from beneath the pillow, staring at his vintage monophone on the end table. His breath halted the more he stared. Should I call him? Would doing so make any progress? The idiot might not even pick up. He's always too busy for anything anyway. What if this was the only chance he'd get then?

The tension built up till he finally just took hold of the phone and ripped it off its base. The phone laid against his ear, his finger hovering over the fingerwheel. He felt cemented in the pose, his mind unable to make the command. He bit his bottom lip, turning it white. His blood rushing, his heart stopping, Arthur finally worked up the balls to dial the number.

His eyes wide and stuck in anticipation as each ring felt like each step to his voice. Heart pounding out of his chest, his hands shaking, his mind rushing through so many questions at once, it was killing him. When he suddenly heard the other end pick up it was as if everything nearly fell off a cliff.

"Sup, Alfred here."

Arthur's mind fell into limbo. He couldn't think of anything, couldn't say anything. He was leaving Alfred in mid air.

"Um…..Hellooo?" Alfred questioned, "Is this a prank call? Cause if it is, it totally sucks dude."

Arthur's eyes snapped back, his mouth about to utter something.

"A-"

"Alright dude, you suck at this. I'm hanging up."

"N-no! Alfred! It's me!"

"Arthur? Really? What the hell dude, why'd ya' leave me hangin'?"

"I-I was um…wondering if the two of us could um," Arthur cleared his throat, "h-hang out Saturday."

The other side grew quiet.

"A-Alfred? " Arthur questioned, worried.

"Hmmm, Yeah dude I could totally do that. What time?"

Arthur's heart fluttered out of its cage. A pink hue of excitement rose up on his cheeks.

"R-Really! U-um," he coughed, "How does um, 3 o'clock sound?"

"Sound good dude. See ya then."

"T-Till then!"

The other side hung up, leaving Arthur with himself. He slowly placed the phone back down on the base. He did it. He just asked Alfred on a date. Oh god, what should they do? What should he say? What kind of shirt could he wear? He frantically went from one question to the other and giggled. Quickly realizing that he was beginning to act, well foolish, he cleared his throat and stood up straight in his chair.

"It's a date then…"