The morning was young as the kettle was place on the stove to make some tea.
Arthur nibbled on a scone while Alfred and Matthew sat in the living room bickering about the TV.
"My team is going to win! It will kick your sorry American ass,Alfred!" Matthew jumped as a witty retort to Alfred's previous comment. Alfred tackles the Canadian, pulling his hair. Arthur sighed, glad that peter was fast asleep.
"Enough of that you two! It's bad enough that you both almost tear up the house because of the hockey obsession!" Arthur barked at the American and the Canadian; rolling his eyes he poured a cup of tea for himself, walking outside for some peace and quiet. The sun was above the clouds, shedding light on the quiet small home.
Arthur's mind was else where; while his body stayed perched atop the lawn chair. He began to think of the lotus flower that he had so viciously fallen in love with. "Wang Yao, the lotus that has stolen my heart. You're in pain; I know, but, I pray that the one you choose; be the one that will make you the happiest." The British gentleman sighed, his hand trembling slightly. "Whether it be that Russian Cossack, or some tea-lover like me. Choose that of which you're heart desires." Arthur couldn't bare the thought of his lotus choosing the strong sunflower instead of a gentle iris. His heart began to ache; being the impulse that drove him towards the Russian's house.