4:46 P.M.

Gilbert was pretty sure he got over that hangover this morning, so why for-god-sakes did it return to ruin his life. It was like having Ludwig rant about the importance of a well organized kingdom, over and over. How unholy this day has turned out to be.

He tired remembering the last thing he saw before falling into a dreamless sleep.

Let's see, I was walking down an alley, wearing my awesome hat, then before I knew it I was making out with the ground and then I was talking to some prick, and the last thing that I remembered were fuzzy eyebrows . . . oh yeah

"That little drunken shit threw a bottle at my head!"

"There's no reason to yell!" said a voice over his aching skull. The prince opened his crimson eyes to a sober British man wearing a white collar shirt and a green tie, sitting on a red chair. They were in a very old looking house, and from where Gilbert was laying (which was a old military cot) he could tell they were still in town."Beside its better if you didn't speak much, that blow on the head nearly gave me panic attack"

"Why should you be the one panicking, I was the one who got knock off the head!"

"Yeah . . . about that ol' chap, I'm not really myself when I had a few drinks"

"No shit"

"Yeah so . . . sorry" the British man looked away, not wanting to meet the other in the eye.

Gilbert was pondering on the idea of hiring someone to violate this guy with a wine bottle, but then again he would rather do the same to his date. Minus the bottle.

"Alright, since I'm so awesome I'll let you off with a warning and if it ever happens again I'll have your eyebrows ripped off"

"I see your ego back"

"As it ever left, Mr-I-can't-hold-my-booze"

"My name is Arthur"

"Gilbert"

They shook hands and before long the only sound in the room were the footsteps and yells from outside, or the soft tick-tock of the clock. Arthur tapped his fingers on the red armrest of the chair, trying to come up with something to say. Gilbert was just sat there, pretty much doing the same thing.

"so",said the Brit, "whats up with the hat?"

. . . . x . . . .

"Like, hold still!"

"B-but I c-can't breathe!" said Matthew, trying his hardest not to fall off the stool, which was very difficult to do with one inch heels. He decided somewhere along the time he stepped into the boutique from the time that he realized that Felix was also wearing a dress that the poor Canadian didn't have much control over his life. For the following week at least.

"hey Felix? Are you sure you know what your doing?" said a very concerned Alfred

"Totally! How else did I mange to get this gig?"

"hm . . . good point"

Alfred lean his back on the dressing room door,since , for some reason, Felix wouldn't let him come in. It bother the American knowing that someone was feeling his younger brother up behind a locked door, while making him take his clothe off. Needless to say he was a little paranoid. "Mattie, are you almost done?"

"Like, almost! You can't rush perfection"

"F-Felix?"

"Yes~" said the Polish man in a sing-song tune.

"D-does it have to be s-so tight?"

"You, like, have such a hot body though"

"B-but still" truth be told he didn't really wanted to wear something so 'form-fitting' since this is probably (and secretly) his first date, with anyone. The whole idea of it made him want to blush red. Which he unfortunately did.

Felix would have notice the change of color in his face if it weren't for Alfred obnoxious knocking.

"Hey! Seriously can we get a move on, even a hero gets hungry"

. . . . X . . . .

it was rare for Gilbert to reject an invitation for a drink, after all the guy did owe him for that blow to the head, not that it did anything to crack that awesome rock-solid ego of his. (plus he had a really good supply of booze)

taking a long gulp of some the whiskey that Arthur gave him, a question magically appeared in his mind that he had been thinking of ever since . . . . well, he really couldn't think of a certain time but he had been thinking it.

What the hell are you doing?

It was a simple question that struck Gilbert like a ton of bricks (or a bottle) to his head. He had been telling himself that question for the past couple of days, why was he going through all that trouble over some silly, stupid, dress wearing, blonde, blue-eyed babe with the voice of a angel who got the nicest damn legs he has ever seen and sure knows how to tease the fuck outta him . . . .

"Oh fuck it" he said grimly as he took another long draft

"Whats the matter with you?"

"I'm just thinking how stupid I'm acting over some chick who looks like sex with legs"

"Tough luck"

"Yeah? Well what about you Mr-bits-and-proper" utter the half sober prince, in a mocking tone.

"That's really none of your business!"

"Come on! Isn't there anyone out there that drives you to take a cold shower every night?"

Arthur stayed quiet for a while, trying to gather himself up before speaking.

"well, there was this one guy"

. . . . X . . . .

A/N:

Hey you guys sorry for such a late update, I swear I tired my hardest to make a decent chapter & to hopely update earlier, but things went sort of downhill for me. But I just want to thanked everyone who has read this fanfic. & before I forget I want to thank Pyromaniacqueen for that lovely fanart you drew me, it inspired parts in this chapter. So thank you for being my inner muse of the moment!

I also like to thanks my friends Ashy, Carrie, & Tootseiroll90(I do hope its alright if I consider you a friend) for being so supportive & helpful!

Thanks again for reading & please review!

:3