I woke up to someone bouncing on my bed. My first reaction was to kick them off, but in turn, I only got my foot caught in their iron grip, and my blanket was suddenly ripped from me. My attacker, Francis, blinked down at me in shock as I quickly pulled a pillow over to cover my nearly-bare body (What's so wrong about sleeping in only a bra and underwear?), though his eyes seemed to be staring right through the pillow.

"Get off, frog!" I shrieked, kicking again with more force—likely more force than I should have, as he was launched across the room—and snatched my discarded blanket off the floor. "Get the fuck out of my room, dummkopf!"

"Why, ma cherie?" Francis asked, grinning as my face steadily turned scarlet, though it was from anger, not embarrassment. Not that Frenchie would know the difference. He likely raped anyone and anything that moved.

"Get the fuck out," I replied quietly, almost too quiet for him to hear, "or I will slowly rip you limb from limb, including your glied."

I wasn't sure if he understood what I meant, but I was sure he had at least some idea, as he suddenly blanched, clutching his crotch, and darted out of the room. With him went my sleep, so I rose from bed, quickly pulled on a pair of black ripped jeans, and a black hoodie with a large eagle on the chest, and headed downstairs to see what was going on.

"Well, if you did that to me, you frog, I'm sure I would have done the exact same thing!" Arthur was shouting at Francis, and I came in just as a rolling pin became acquainted with the frog's head. How Francis didn't collapse, I don't know, but I still let out a loud laugh, and sat myself on the large marble island in the middle of Uncle West's kitchen. (Yes, he was still Uncle West to me. It sounded better than Ludwig)

"What do you want for breakfast, Mäuschen?" Gilbert came up behind me, and I froze at that nickname.

"Don't. Call. Me. Mousie." I ground out, not turning around.

"Kesesese~" Gilbert's wheezy laugh made me cringe mentally. "Vögelchen doesn't seem to mind when I call him Birdie."

"Well, I'm not this sorry-ass-Birdie guy, now-" I was cut off by a very loud Italian voice shrieking for some 'tomato bastard' to let him go. Curious, I glanced over towards the living room to see a boy who looked almost exactly like the other Italian that had hugged me—though this one looked rather angry—and a Latino with his arms wrapped around the fiery Italian. His dark brown hair was curly, and his green eyes twinkled happily.

"But, Lovi~" The Latino cooed. "You're so cute when you blush!"

"I suggest you let go of him before he explodes, and kills you." I called, smirking at the shocked look I got from the Latino. "Unless you're into that kind of stuff."

"That's Antonio." Gilbert pointed at the tan man, then pointed at the twin of the other Italian. "And that's Lovino."

The doorbell suddenly went off, followed by Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis racing towards the door to open it first.

"Kerstin's furniture is here!" Antonio's voice floated through the house, drawing me towards the front door curiously. Sure enough, there was a guy wearing a uniform from a moving company standing on my porch (wait, when was it my porch), while a large moving van sat idling in the large driveway behind him.

"Alright guys, let's get moving!" Gilbert clapped his hands together, and everyone filed outside to start, including me. There were a few men I didn't recognize, but only one really caught my eye; a man about half a head taller than me, with shaggy blond hair and lapis eyes. He had a Nordic cross in his hair, holding it back from his eyes, though a few strands still hung loose.

"That's Lukas." Francis whispered close to my ear, making me jump and scream from shock. "Just act normal, and he won't know we're talking about him."

"Frog." I hissed, shoving him away as I went to the back of the truck to see just what I had for furniture. I noticed there was no bed in the truck, but that was likely because Gilbert and Antonio had already taken some large item up. Left in the truck was a black wooden dresser, a white wooden vanity table with a mirror, and a few black and white chairs, with a glass table.

"Come on, Kerstin." Uncle West called as he jumped up into the truck, and started handing things out to people. I was teamed up with mysterious cross guy to carry my dresser up.

"Don't drop it." I muttered, trying not to make eye contact with him.

"I won't." He replied, his voice almost bored. We carried it the rest of the way up without a word, and set it along the wall to the left of the door. Then, I turned around to see my bed. It was a loft bed, with a desk and a desk chair underneath. I quickly pulled my sketch books out of my suitcase and set them on the desk, and put my clothes away in my dresser while the other guys brought in the rest of the furniture. The chairs and glass table were beside the large floor-to-ceiling window, and my vanity went over by my bed.

"Kerstin!" Uncle West came into the room and smiled at me. "Do you like your room?"

"I love it!" I squealed, before freezing abruptly. I was never this nice to people. Everyone seemed shocked with how we acted around one another, because Gilbert was staring at Uncle West with his mouth gaping open.

"Oi, Westen?" He called, walking over to throw an arm around his brother. "Why are you so nice to her? I don't ever see you smile at anyone other than Italy."

"Italy?" I blinked in surprise. Who was Italy? "Who the Hell names their kid Italy?"

Gilbert and Uncle West blinked at me in surprise, before Gilbert laughed nervously. "It's a nickname thing. We call Feliciano Italy."

Just then, said Italian came trotting in.

"Hi Italy!" I called, smiling at the ditsy auburn-haired Italian.

"Doitsu, I thought we weren't calling each other by our names while Big Sister Kerstin was here?" Feliciano asked, looking up at Uncle West in confusion.

"Our nicknames are okay, Feli!" Gilbert said a little too rushed for my liking. Luckily for him, Francis came barreling into the room, breathing heavily.

"I have a niece too!" He cried, before 'fainting' right there on the floor. Everyone rushed to his side, but both Arthur and I just walked up and kicked him in the ribs to get him up. "Mon dieu! That hurt, Angleterre!"

"Who's your niece?" Uncle West asked, followed by everyone asking the same inane question.

The doorbell went off then, and Francis quickly scrambled out of the room, and down the stairs. We all followed, curious as to whom this new person was. However, I was quickly distracted by the fact that a certain Nordic-cross-wearing blond's hand was brushing against my own. Unwilling to get close to anyone, I quickly separated from the group, and stayed on the stairs, watching as the door opened to reveal the new frog.

However, I wasn't expecting who I saw walk through that door; a girl about my age, with red hair in a fancy bun, and light blue eyes (though I did comfort myself with the thought that she had his eyes) that seemed to catch the light.

"Bonjour!" She beamed, smiling at the Frenchman as though she knew he was the uncle she was sent to live with. Something inside me told me she was just hoping that was him.

"Bonjour, ma cherie!" Francis embraced her as he would a lost child, and looked positively happy.

It kind of made me feel empty, because I never had that. Feeling left out, I turned and started heading back up the stairs, until I felt a hand on my shoulder. A quick glance up proved my suspicions, as I gazed up at Uncle West.

"We're your family now." He said softly, as though he knew exactly what I was feeling. Then, he gathered me up into a hug that quickly turned into the entire house (I still wasn't sure what they were all doing living together. Seemed kind of like one big orgy if you asked me) squeezing me from all sides.

"I love you guys." I murmured, trying to ignore the stares from the blond-headed boy. Nothing could ruin the happy feeling I felt then.

Well, except for one thing…

"Elise!" I shrieked, grey eyes glazed over with vicious storm clouds. "You stupid French frog! Get back here!"

I chased her around the house, murder evident in my eyes. She, however, was laughing gleefully. Hell, I probably would if I did the impossible. What did she do? The stupid frog put me, the queen of a pair of jeans and t-shirt, in a dress. Mind you, it was a red dress that likely thrived in the 'romantic' era, or whatever the hell you call it, but it sure as hell wasn't my kind of dress! (although, Tonio said he had seen a Spanish woman selling a similar dress, so it must be of Latino nature)

By the end of the day, I was exhausted, and angry. Best way to go to sleep, if you want to have dreams where you rather painfully murder someone.

Translations:

Mäuschen: Mousie

Vögelchen: Birdie

Bonjour: Hello

So, is it going well? I hope you guys like it ^-^

Reviews are encouraged, because they help me be a better writer :]