Another drop of water hit the floor. Alfred felt the towel around his waist begin to slip ever so slightly, and quickly pulled it back up.

His fears were confirmed. Matthew and Ivan appeared to be at each other's throats, arguing with a ferocity that Alfred could never match. Arguing in a way that was very unlike any way Alfred and Ivan would argue. Their banters were petty and predictable, with Tolys and the reliability of communism being the main talking points.

Whatever kind of argument or debate that Alfred had walked in on…

Well, it was interesting. But still, it shouldn't have been happening in the first place.

Matthew and Ivan went silent. The Canadian cleared his throat and sank back into the armchair, looking sheepish. "Oh, Al. I didn't know you were there."

Alfred's eyes then darted over to Ivan, who set his face back into a neutral expression, seemingly wanting to try and hide what had been happening also. "Mhmm. We were just having a polite conversation, is all."

"Yeah, and I can fly." Alfred placed a hand on his own hip, regardless of whether it made him look like a sassy teenage girl. "Af if I'm about to believe that. I was standing right there!"

Matthew shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to say. "Honestly, it's all fine. The conversation just got a little bit—" He fiddled with a neon orange throw pillow, stammering a little before finding the right words. "Heated."

Showing no concern over his current almost-nakedness, (It was practically pitch-dark anyways) Alfred approached his brother with a few quick strides. "I heard it, Matt. Not all of it, but enough." He looked to Ivan, accusing blue eyes brimming with fury. "And that means I also heard about what you did to Tolys."

Ivan's lip twitched. "I have no idea what you are talking about." He tried his best to keep his gaze from dropping any lower on Alfred's body, and he was simultaneously both disgusted and surprised at this notion.

"What happened on Halloween, Ivan?"

"That is none of your—"

"I said, what happened on Halloween, Ivan?" Alfred tapped one bare foot impatiently on the floor, arms crossed boldly.

Matthew simply glared at the Russian, knowing full well what the answer was. But he knew that Alfred would much rather hear those convicting words from Ivan himself.

Ivan stiffened in a way that gave Alfred a puff of pride. Imagine that, the great and fearful Ivan Braginsky intimidated by some blondie with a hero complex!

Alfred could imagine that. And it felt great.

"Nothing happened on Halloween," responded Ivan monotonously.

Matthew peered at Ivan over the frames of his glasses. "Bad faith. You're operating on bad faith."

Alfred looked confused. "The hell does that mean?" he whispered to Matthew.

Matthew shot his brother a look that said don't worry about it and continued speaking. "Deception won't work. But the least I could do is give you credit for trying."

Ivan clenched his fists tightly. Never has anybody dared to question him—or even speak to him in such a way. "I don't require your silly credit. Plus, you must have a death wish if you intend on continuing to press the subject."

Alfred narrowed his eyebrows and growled in an almost animalistic manner. "Just watch me, you predator."

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

Gilbert felt nauseous. A cold feeling gnawed at the insides of his stomach, a feeling that made him want to scream. Not to mention his entire body was soaking wet, chilling him right down to the bone.

Band practice wore him out, and Antonio's house was close by. So, why not stop by for some alcohol-induced fun with his friend?

Antonio wasn't home. So Gilbert took the liberty of calling him. Turns out, he was just at his cousin's place for the evening.

But there was somebody home. Lovino Vargas, Antonio's spicy little boyfriend. Turns out, he came for Antonio, too.

Gilbert had a lot to get off his chest, and sadly enough, nobody really cared to listen. Ludwig was too busy with studying for a test that was in three months, and Francis decided that now would be a good idea to have a little rendezvous sleepover with Arthur, even though they would most likely not be doing a lot of sleeping.

And of course, there was Elizaveta.

But he wasn't quite ready to talk to her.

"I get it. That's kind of why I'm here. I've got myself some romance trouble, too," Gilbert said.

"You really want to know, kid?"

"Yes."

"Alright."

Gilbert reached into the package to grab another beer bottle but felt a sharp pinch on the back of his neck. Instinctively, his hand moved from the beer to his neck. "Ouch! What the hell was that for, kid?!"

Lovino glared at Gilbert and rolled his eyes. "I was helping you, jackass. Alcohol poisoning exists, you know."

Gilbert chuckled sadly and gave up on his little mission. "Ah. Danke, Lovi."

Lovino seethed and briefly contemplated smacking Gilbert in the face. "Don't call me that, potato-eating bastard!"

"Oh? Well, you seem fine whenever your precious Toni uses that nickname."

"Tch. Whatever. Just tell me what your problem is, dumbass."

My problem? Well, she has the prettiest brown hair. She wears this little pink flower hair clip that always seems to slip off. And, mein Gott, when she laughs—it's just incredible, and sometimes I wish I could just grab her and kiss her right on the lips—

"Do you know who Elizaveta is?"

Lovino tapped his chin with his index finger, thinking silently for a few seconds. "That Hungarian chick? First chair Clarinet?"

Gilbert nodded as if to confirm. "Mhmm. And I—"

"You love her."

"Well… that might be a little bit of an exaggeration—"

"No. No, it's not. You know, I might be younger than you, but I'm not an idiot. You're head over heels for that girl."

Gilbert gazed up at the ceiling and let a wistful grin fall upon his face. "Yeah. You're right. I'm in love with Elizaveta Hedervary. But that doesn't change the fact that…"

An image floated to his mind. An image that he so desperately wanted to scrub from his brain until no remnants remain.

Elizaveta and Vladimir hated each other's guts. Honestly, it was a miracle that they managed to go days without causing any bodily harm to one another. But one specific day, Vlad decided to experiment with his potions. One of them just so happened to be a love potion.

Vlad didn't quite know whether it would work or not. It was just something that he (along with Lukas and Arthur) had managed to come up with on a whim. So, what better way to test it out than to feed it to the girl you hate?

On the bright side, the potion did actually work. Too well, actually. Which was exactly what led to a certain event that Gilbert was unlucky enough to witness.

Elizaveta drank the potion, which contaminated her bottled water.

Vladimir peered out from the corner of the hall, grinning evilly. His plan succeeded. Elizaveta would surely fall in love with the first person that she laid eyes upon.

And who would have thought that poor, unsuspecting, Vladimir would be that very person?

She ran up and kissed him. Hard.

Things were extremely awkward after that. The effects of the potion wore off in a few hours, and when Elizaveta found out what she had done under its influence—

She looked traumatized.

Gilbert guessed that she spent the rest of the evening scrubbing her lips until they were raw.

While he knew full well that the two had no feelings for each other, the heavy feeling in his heart refused to subside.

"Change the fact that what? Oi, bastard! Are you there?" Lovino waved a hand in front of Gilbert's face and yelled a couple more times.

"I think Lizzie's changed. She wears makeup and dresses and high heels—not like when we were younger. Plus, she keeps fawning over our conductor."

"Mr. Edelstein? But he's—"

"I know right? Turns out that Austrian prick is only a couple years older than us," interrupted Gilbert. "Still, he acts like a middle-aged man. A middle-aged man with a stick up his ass."

"Students aren't allowed to date teachers, though."

"Yeah. Won't stop her from gushing on and on about him." Gilbert sighed and rested the back of his head on his arms. "Probably gonna run off and marry the guy once she graduates after this year."

"Unless you do something about it," proposed Lovino.

Gilbert eyed Lovino incredulously. "Kid, are you sure you're qualified enough to be giving me advice?"

Lovino scoffed. "Listen, kraut-breath. I think I'm pretty skilled at this whole lovey-dovey nonsense. Feliciano's my brother, so I'm at least a little experienced at this point."

Gilbert raised both of his palms. "Okay, okay! So then," Gilbert fiddled around with a stray bottle cap. "What should I do to get her attention?"

"I have a plan. But I don't think you'll like it too much."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

Lovino smirked. "Because it might cost you a little bit of pride."

NOTES:

- Danke (German): Thank you

- Vladimir is Romania. He and Hungary don't exactly have the best relationship.

- To operate with "Bad Faith" would be to make a claim or claims with the intent to deceive.

- Sorry, this chapter is shorter than usual. Time is flying by really fast, and sometimes I go almost a week without posting without even realizing it. With this chapter, I had a little bit of writer's block. It might be kind of dull because of this.

- I had to make a few adjustments in order for the plot to work. Because Austria is a teacher, I decided to make a few changes. Hungary, Austria, Prussia, and Spain are all Seniors, now. I would assume Austria would be around 20-22 years old, while the rest are maybe 18. The whole Frying Pangle thing might not be as prominent as I had originally planned out.

Thank you for reading!