A/N : Okay guys, sorry about the shit updating-thing. I doubt you're awaiting this chapter, but MEH. Have it anyway. :D Haha, about the lack of AN's… Sorry… :c I'll post more.

WHAT IS THIS? A fail preview. No, it's not all of Chapter 4. Only a bit. Please don't kill me! T.T

On a side note… I'm listening to Russia's 'Pechka' song :D.

-x-

Arthur let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding. He, Matthew and Alfred had explained the whole deal to Gilbert - who, now, was just smiling rather creepily. A moment of awkward silence later, the 'Prussian' boy spoke up.

"Can I tell Antonio and Francis? Never mind, kesesese~, I'm awesome enough to make my own decisions!" he said rather loudly, and Matthew and Alfred looked uncomfortable. The latter shook his head.

"Maybe Antonio, dude, but not Francis. Knowing him, he'd have Arthur traumatised!" Alfred decided. He closed his eyes and continued, "And besides, we don't want to broadcast it to the whole damn world."

Arthur agreed. The idea of being traumatised (from what, was unbeknownst to him) was unappealing, and he seriously didn't want many people knowing about it. To be honest, he would rather even Alfred and Matthew not be involved - but he'd dragged them into this mess. Hopefully, nothing would get out.

Hopefully.

The blond half-brothers' carers called for dinner from downstairs, and Arthur was, once again, left alone. Well, he would have been, had the albino went down. Apparently he had something to say.

"Bro," he grinned, "I'm going to tell Antonio - I'm sure yah won't mind me telling Francis, yeah?" without giving Arthur the opportunity to answer, he continued, "Sweet, dude. See you."

The guy walked out the room, leaving Arthur frustrated. His wings curled angrily, and he was going to get up before he heard footsteps returning to the room. Furrowing his impressive eyebrows, the angel hurried to the bathroom and closed the door.

"Artie, dude, it's me- hey, are you hiding in the bathroom?" laughed a familiar American. The Brit scowled and flung the door open.

"I wasn't hiding, git! I just, uhh, needed some breathing space. That's all!" he growled, shoving past the other and grumpily sitting on the bed. Wanting to change the subject, he added "Oh, and by the way - do you not own any books?"

Alfred, however, noticed this, and decided not to answer, but just to smile knowingly and go over to his bookcase. Of course, he didn't have books, he had comics. Mainly Superman or Captain America - his favourites. Picking up one, he laughed lightly at the title - he'd had it since he was a child. He flicked to the first page, before hearing light footsteps behind him.

"That's not a book." Arthur pointed out, scowling.

"Well no shit Sherlock." Alfred retorted, smiling. The Brit rolled his eyes.