I finally have a rough idea of what I want. Sort of. Sorry this update was super late, and kind of short, but school was totally kicking my ass, and I wasn't about to go down. Next update will probably be a bit longer, and be out soon. You get a slight idea of what Matthew's background is for this chapter, but in reality, it's still pretty vague.

Also, some swearing in this chapter.

I do not own Hetalia.

Alfred was the first one to pull back, already missing Matthew by his side. His arms go around himself, and he wishes that he brought a heavier jacket. He can feel himself sway on his feet, not realizing how tired he was until now, and he smiles a lazy smile.

"It's getting late, and I'm falling asleep on my feet. I hope you don't mind me heading off now."

Matthew turns around, resting his elbows on the railing, and he nods. "No, I don't mind, go ahead." He straightens, and nods towards a random direction. "I should get going as well. It was nice meeting you, Alfred F. Jones." He turns to leave, hands getting stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

Alfred opens his mouth, calling out for him. "Matthew, is there any way I can contact you?"

Matthew stops, and turns around, shrugging his shoulders casually. "Maybe."

Alfred huffs slightly, not quite liking the way Matthew was being so damn casual. Alfred wasn't too keen on being led on, and this little game Matthew is playing makes Alfred want him more. They have only spoke for a few minutes and he's already smitten with this strange blonde man. He crosses his arms, biting his lip, he looked up at Matthew with pleading eyes.

"Please, Matt?"

Matthew frowned, not pleased with Alfred's nickname for him. What right did this man have to call him that? He remembers a time long ago when he was called by that name, by a man whose face he couldn't quite get a hang of, blurred and faded like an old photograph. He shook his head and glares at Alfred.

"You know what? Here's my number. Don't call too much, now." Matthew winks, and Alfred smiles his crooked smile. He fumbles for a pen, and was glad he had an array of stuff in his pockets. He quickly rips off a section of a receipt, and hands it to Matthew, who smiles and quickly jots down a number.

Matthew hands back the paper, and Alfred's smile is too big for his face. He is careful not to wrinkle the already messed up paper, and he laughs. "Don't go thinking I do this all the time now, you're a special case, you are."

Matthew rolled his eyes, and turned on his heel. He gave one last smile to Alfred, before walking away, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans.

Alfred watched as he walked, until he went past the trees and past a corner on the street. Alfred bit his lip, and looked down at the slip of paper in his hands.

He instantly frowned, and ripped up the piece.

The fucking number he got was the pizza place down the street.

That little bubble of happiness was soon popped, and he grumbled and moaned until he got back to his damned tiny apartment, with Matthew still smiling in his head.

Matthew still had Alfred smiling in his head. He groaned and banged his head against the concrete wall outside the cheap motel he was staying at. Light was seeping into the sky, and he had stood outside the past hour or so trying to figure what to do with himself. He played with his phone for a bit, biting his lip in thought, and he didn't know whether or not communicating on a personal level with people was part of the rules.

He looked around for a bit, slightly annoyed, before looking back at his phone.

"Oh fuck this." He murmured, and quickly dialed a number before bringing the phone up to his ear. He tapped his foot impatiently, before a thick British accent greeted him not so kindly in a sleepy tone.

"What the hell do you think you're doin' mate? It's fuckin' 4 am in the bloody mornin' and you're callin' me for some god damn reason an'-"

"How long do I have to do this for?"

"Do what now?"

Matthew growled. "You know what I mean. Finding these people and helping them out and some crap, you're supposed to be helping me 'mate' and you weren't too clear on what I was supposed to accomplish. I don't even know who they are for God's sake."

"I thought we went over this already."

"But Arthur-"

"We'll discuss this in the morning."

Matthew sighed, wondering how he got stuck with this piece of work called Arthur Kirkland. "It is morning."

Arthur groaned. "Oh shut the hell up. I mean at a decent time. Come over at 9 am and we'll talk, alright Matthew?"

Matthew grumbled loudly, before nodding. "Fine, I'll call you when I'm there."

He hung up without a goodbye, and he wondered if life would be easier if he didn't have this second chance.

Better than being dead, he supposes.