Auuughhh

I'm sooo sorryyyy

My computer crashed while working on this fic and since then fanfiction has refused to let me open it and update *cries*

But anyway, here is a /rly long/ update, hope you like it and please r&r!

–-

Elizaveta stared. The poker-faced German stared back.

"Yes?" he managed to answer, seemingly realising only now she had asked him a question.

"I-uh-h a-What are you doing here?" the brunette stuttered, slightly intimidated by the large man.

As a response, he merely jerked his head in the direction of the principal's office.

Right. Mr Vargas, in addition to being a history teacher and the school's head, was also the manager of some big enterprise-which his children refused to speak of. Alfred said it was the Mafia (only to get punched by Arthur) and Francis said it was shady movies (only to get his foot crushed by Angie), but no one seemed to know for sure. What Eliza did know, however, was that Mr Beilschmidt was his lawyer, who travelled a lot and seemed to dislike his employer. And who hadn't been seen for eight months.

She was about to ask him something along the lines of what the actual f-, when Gilbert burst out of the room (presumably thinking she had left by now). There was a sudden silence, and as his red eyes widened considerably, Eliza felt a pang of sympathy toward her long-time enemy.

"V-vati." Gilbert choked out.

"Gilbert."

As the eldest of the Beilschmidt family straightened his back and attempted to fix his hair, his father continued to stare at him. "Where's your tie?" he asked after a moment. Gilbert looked down at his chest, finding his tie missing, and looked around in bewilderment. "I think I left-" he started, only to be cut off again. "Tell your brother I'm looking for him.", the tall blonde stated, then left.

The albino breathed out slowly, and before Elizaveta could say anything, he turned and snapped at her: "Yeah, hilarious, everyone thinks I'm a failure. I got it. You can go run off to Roderich now."

Then he stalked out of the room, leaving the Hungarian feeling guilty.

Though the Beilschmidt patriarch certainly cared a lot for his offspring, he was a very strict man, and unused to showing his emotions. He resembled his youngest, Ludwig, quite a lot in that aspect; which could've been why he got on so badly with Gilbert, who seemed to always disappoint him.

Momentarily, the girl considered running after him, but she knew he was too prideful to accept her help. So she walked back to her dorm, yaoi quite forgotten.

–-

Arthur felt like he was being stalked. He kept feeling eyes on him, turning around, seeing nothing, and then feeling the eyes again. It was horribly stressing. He was on his way to send off most of those horrible love letters-he only had ten left, now!-but his paranoia had sent him off to another urgent matter: Alfred.

As oblivious to social affairs (he was BUSY, for the love of Merlin) that he was, he had heard enough of his annoying cousin's problem to be worried. And the letter with the "da moves" guy had seemed incredibly suspicious to him. What?! He wasn't so stupid that he wouldn't guess who it was!

Do you even know how butchered the poor English language had been?!

So yes, Arthur was worried.

It wasn't the fact that it was Matthew that bugged him; he quite liked Matthew, on the contrary.

But as embarrassing as it was, Arthur cared for Alfred's well-being. So here he was.

He stopped in front of the North American Room's door, suddenly urged to do so.

As he heard voices emanating from inside, he couldn't help but stay still (he was NOT eaves-dropping!) and listen. It seemed that he might be a bit late in counselling the American.

"...Matt! Matthew!"

Silence.

"Y-yeah, Alfred?"

"So about earlier-"

"OH MAPLE OK TABERNACHE I'M SORRY I DIDN'T-"

"NO NO WAIT IT'S NOT THAT I-"

Arthur nearly keeled over from the waves of awkwardness rolling out of the room. He remained rooted on the spot, however, as the universe seemed to hate him.

"Wait, what?"

The babbling seemed to be cut off as Matthew's voice echoed creepily.

"I-uh-I just wanted-I mean-It's fine by me, so-no actually-will you-I-"

Before Arthur could barge in and impale Alfred on his pencil, however, Matthew's French smoothness seemed to kick in (ugh, Francis, Arthur thought, and shuddered) and he responded quickly: "Yeah, about that, will you go to the prom with me?"

Silence once more.

Then a crash, making Arthur jump a foot.

"Alfred, are you all right?!"

Embarrassed laughter, undoubtedly from the southern nation.

"Well, this was awkward."

"I'm guessing that's yes?"

"Definitely. Maybe next time we should just talk this through."

They both laughed, and Arthur moved away discreetly.

They seemed to be back to their normal banter, and for a moment Arthur allowed himself a small smile.

Maybe some good would come out of this mess after all.

–-

Bella was in fan-girl heaven.

How would you feel if your OTP suddenly came to life? Pretty damn happy?

Well that's how happy the Belgian girl was feeling right now.

Smile stretching up to her cheeks as she beamed, she asked her long-time friend one more: "You're SURE? This isn't just some hallucination?"

Antonio laughed sheepishly, looking delighted. "Si, chica, verdad!"

"So you and...You..?" She was stumbling over words in her excitement, and would've continued to do so if the Spaniard hadn't paused. "Ah, Bella, he's over there..."

Curls swishing as her head turned, she merely waved him off, still beaming: "Go get your corazon."

Antonio ran off, leaving her smiling fondly after her one time crush.

She turned, humming, only to crash into someone's chest.

"Someone", it turned out, was a particular Dutchman she knew very well.

"Lars?"

He blinked, which she translated as hi. Bella was the only person capable of translating the neutral nation's messages, and half of the time people thought she was just inventing stuff. Jealousy.

There was something off about him, though...Ah!

"What is it?"she asked Lars, pointing at his arms. "Your fingers are twitching. You obviously have something to say. If it's Antonio, then I have to tell you that a) It isn't your business, and b) he's dating-"

"S'not Antonio." Bella eyed her elder. "Then..?"

"Well it kind of is but...Has he asked you to the prom?"

The Belgian blinked, surprised. Then she bristled with anger.

"Listen, Lars. I know you hate Antonio and you disapprove of our friendship, and I know you like showing me he doesn't care for me in that way, but honestly I think that I've gotten that I'm doomed to be an old maid, sour and bitter and on her own and surrounded by stuffed cats." Bella finished her speech, cheeks burning and eyes stinging. Yes, she had liked Antonio. Yes, he hadn't liked her. She was over it! She had learnt her lesson! She didn't constantly need a reminder!

Her train of thoughts was interrupted by her sibling gripping her her arms harshly. "Wh-?"

Green met green and Lars glared.

"Bella. Don't ever say anything of the sort again or I will slap you. How can you think that?! Just because some idiot of a Spaniard is too infatuated with some other idiot doesn't mean that there's anything wrong with you! You are smart, and pretty, and talented, and brave, and strong, and kind, and you light up a room when you enter it. And if someone can't see it, then that someone is a sorry bastard who needs glasses very badly, regardless of the fact if they're Spanish or not, and clearly that is not your fault. And I, for one, think you are the most perfect person to ever walk this sorry earth. Understood?"

Bella let out a choked noise, and launched herself forward.

"Laaaaarrsssss..." she managed, voice muffled against the other's scarf. "Why're you so nicccceeeee..."

"I'm not nice."

"Shut up. You are, and you know it." Bella said, emerging slightly red-eyed. "Now gimme a kiss before I punch you."

–-

Ludwig thought it must be the apocalypse, because Lovino Vargas was smiling.

LOVINO VARGAS. Smiling and talking normally to Antonio.

Ludwig turned to Feliciano, seeking reassurance, but the Italian was still beaming and clutching his arm as usual.

The tall blonde felt a migraine approaching. He was already bad enough at human relations, and now his notes were scrambled. Where he usually put Raging Italian, hates my guts, stay away there was now a new, smiling Lovino, who was creeping the hell out of him.

Before the poor German's brain could implode, however, Lovino noticed him and Feli, and scowled.

"HEY! POTATO JERK! WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT?"

Ludwig nearly hugged the Italian from sheer relief, but he didn't want to end up dead so he merely shrugged. Feliciano, on the other hand, started whining as usual: "Ehhh, Lovi! Why are you so mean to Lud? He's my best friend!" "HE shouldn't be! You know Germans are always evil, wurst-eating freaks!" "But Lovi..."

While the two brothers continued ranting, Ludwig turned to Antonio.

"Is there something I should know?"

The Spaniard seemed to get it, and laughed: "Ah, si, Lovi and I are dating!"

There was a sudden silence, and then Ludwig managed a: "W-wha?" at the same time that Feli started gushing.

"EEEHHHH! FRATELLO! REALLY? I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU! MOLTO BENE!"

Lovino flushed red, punching the grinning Spaniard in the arm (much softer than usually, Ludwig noted). "Idiota...Now the entire school will know."

"How did you manage to convince him?" Ludwig asked incredulously.

Then he realised he had said it out loud, and coughed embarrassedly.

"No one asked you, potato jerk!

…..

Ah, dammit! Fine! It was just that Antonio is really annoying when he keeps trying to serenade me so I shut him up! Andalsohemightkindofbereallynicenandshit!"

Ludwig blinked, having not understood a word of his last sentence. The other two seemed to have, though, as they immediately chorused a "Aw, that's so sweet, Lovi!"

He waved them away, pouting, and quickly changed the subject: "What about you? Got a date yet?"

Ludwig turned toward his friend, slightly too curious, and was surprised by his answer (more like stunned..).

The red-head frowned, incomprehending: "Eh? Well of course I'm going with Luddy! Right, Luddy?" As the three turned towards him, Ludwig decided that his life sucked.

"I-what-BYE!"

He ran off, cursing fate or whoever hated him so much, and muttering insults in German that would've made his brother proud.

Yeah, he could suddenly understand the appeal of swearing, he thought, and continued to do so while running up the steps-until he crashed into his father.

Mr Beilschmidt senior was not impressed.

–-

Elizaveta hated Gilbert Beilschmidt.

She really did.

Here she was, on her way to her, hem, club, when she had spotted Roderich approaching her.

She had brushed her hair back and stopped, then the realisation dawned: what if he asked her...

Now here she was, dreading the question. Isten, she hated him!

Roderich approached her, uniform flawless, nodding slightly at her.

"Elizaveta. I wish to talk to you...?"

She smiled, trying to appear demure. "Yes, what is it Roderich?"

He straightened his back and looked at her kindly.

"Well, as you must know, there is this...prom business at the end of the week. I, of course, will probably be playing in the orchestra, but if not...I was wondering if perhaps you might want to accompany me."

Elizaveta felt her cheeks heat up, and she grinned. Here Roderich was, proposing to leave his music to come with her! It was true that she and Roderich had dated for quite a while, and even though they had broken up, they had recently begun patching up their relationship. If she went with him, it would be pretty much official!

Feeling sick, she turned towards the Austrian: "Roderich...I'm sorry, but...I can't."

He looked surprised, but not offended, and asked: "Ah. I see. Nothing to worry about. May I enquire why..?" Her cheeks burned, but she pushed on: "I...I can't...tell you." His eyebrows shot up, and Elizaveta felt the urge to defend herself: "No, no! It's not like that! It's-Gilbert-I-"

She stopped, dismayed, when Roderich stiffened. Oh, no, he must think...

"Well, in that case, I bid you goodnight, Elizaveta." He turned swiftly, then walked away.

"No! Roderich, wait! It's not-"

Her voice died out and she rubbed angrily at her eyes.

"I HATE YOU SO MUCH, YOU DAMN PRUSSIAN!"

–-

Waking up the next morning, Gilbert sneezed.

"I have the feeling I'm in trouble..."

"You're right."

The Prussian turned towards the door, where a furious Ludwig stood, fists clenched.

"Lud?"

"We need to talk."

–-

DUN DUN DUN.
Next chapter:

Eliza and her friends discuss yaoi.

Gil and Ludwig fight!

Arthur is scared.

And etc!

Hope you enjoyed!