The lively music flows through the room, mixed with laughter from the crowd. A pair of red eyes scan the room. "East?" Ludwig asks from behind him, confused. Gilbert turns around and grins. "Hey, West!" Spotting his companion, he grins even more. "Feli! Look at you!" "Buongiorno, Gil!" The Italian says cheerfully, clutching Ludwig's arm. He giggles as the other nation wobbles his cheeks, cooing. "Man, you're just adorable. If West hadn't got there first..." They both laugh, while Ludwig frowns. "Bruder, are you here on your own?"

Gilbert mentally snickers (great tactfulness there, bro), but decides to exert revenge by looking down sadly. "Yeah..." Feliciano stifles his giggles by stuffing his mouth with a cupcake, because from what he saw earlier, Gilbert is definitely not here alone; but the unsuspecting Ludwig falters. "Ah, um, I-" Before he can go further, a fourth figure joins the group.

"Well, in that case I've been dumped rather unfairly." Elizaveta snarks, elbowing the Prussian as she flashes his brother a smile. The German looks at them for a second before comprehension dawns, and his face suddenly reflects utter shock. "Whaaa?!" He asks, jaw dropping, and he looks so much like Gilbert would that Eliza loses it, laughing so loudly that some of the people nearby start laughing too.

Ludwig gives a little sigh before smiling sheepishly and sticking his hand out. "Well, I must say Gilbert is very lucky. You look stunning tonight, Miss Eliza." She ignores the hand and pulls him into a hug before releasing him, beaming. "Awe, thanks, Ludwig! You and your hot date here don't look half bad either!" They do, as a matter of fact, in their nice suits, but for her Gilbert stays first, his dark suit bringing out his white hair and scarlet eyes, and the absence of his usual t-shirt and jeans making him look much more mature than he should look.

When her thoughts start to wander, she gives a little cough, cheeks turning pink, and doesn't realize that Gilbert is taking in her flowing emerald dress and her caramel hair spilling over her shoulders with an equally hungry air. Feliciano and Ludwig head off towards Antonio and Lovino, who are laughing together at Angie's story, leaving the two alone in a comfortable silence.

"Nice organizing job. Wonder who did it?" Gilbert says with a lazy smirk. "No idea. The cake is delicious, though." Elizaveta replies. He turns towards her, bowing elegantly, before offering a hand: "I would ask you to dance, but I suspect the prom organizer has to go and have a look around first." "Indeed." Eliza says, taking the offered arm and leading them towards the stairs. Belle rushes over to meet them in a dazzling sunset orange dress, hair in a stylish half braid. "Bonjour, Eliza, and who is this fine date of yours?" She asks teasingly. "The Hon. Gilbert Beilschmidt at your service." Gilbert says in an uppity voice, making the Belgian snicker and drop the airs. "Yeah, yeah, I know your type. Seriously though, Liza, this is great! Everything is just perfect!" The Hungarian flushes proudly before answering: "Couldn't have done it without Gil."

A shrieking noise interrupts their conversation, and the room falls silent as it becomes louder. Before anyone can question it, however, Alfred flies through the door, laughing hysterically as an exhilarated Matthew clings to his neck. The blonde skids down the steps, narrowly missing a statue, before finally coming to a stop right in front of the group. Matthew slides off, clinging to Alfred's arm as he shakes his head, and they gain a spontaneous standing ovation, to which Alfred performs dramatic and exaggerated bows while his Canadian counterpart rolls his eyes.

As the audience resumes their conversations and Belle drags the two off to talk with Lars, the duo stops in front of Antonio, who's quietly examining the cake. "Hey, Toni!" The Spaniard looks up, startled, before smiling. "Oh, hey, you two! Quick question: did Gilbert make this cake?" Eliza raises a surprised brow: "How'd you know?" "The number of things us Bad Friends Trio know about each other would stun you, schatzi." Gil replies smoothly, causing her to mock shudder. "Don't tell me." Antonio laughs, distracting them from their bickering, then says fondly: "I totally called this all." At their bemused expressions, he adds: "Right after Gil broke in the Gakuen offices to mess with your list, he called you "Elizaveta" instead of psycho-Hungarian-woman or something. Hasn't done that since like two centuries ago." The albino's eyebrows shoot up as he whistles. "Woah, man, you know more about me than I do! Can I hire you as psychiatrist?" As the Spaniard pretends to consult a notebook to find an appointment for him, they are joined by two well-known figures. "...Oh, sod off. I was just asking." Arthur sniffs, as Francis cackles. "But asking conveys a certain interest, no?" As greeting, he adds: "By the way, je suis très offensé que vous ne m'ayez pas indiqué vos petits amours." "C'est peut-être à cause de tes affreux conseils." Arthur replies, shooting a pointed glance at Eliza, who rolls her eyes sympathetically. The trio stares at him, before Francis exclaims: "Your French is terrible!" with definite undertones of flattery. "Not as bad as your English." The Brit counters, sounding smug. "Do I get points for speaking both?" Gilbert interjects, before adding in a terrible and exaggerated French: "Vou-lay vous coo-chay ah-vec moa?" The French student pretends to faint, before giving a melodramatic sob and looking around franctically. "My ears! My ears! Mercy, mercy!"

And so the evening wears on, and it is only much later, when the room is quiet, that they find themselves alone, sitting perched on the edge of the balcony. "I love them." Eliza says fondly, casting a look back to the room filled with nations. "We fight, and some things we don't forgive, but we're a family, and I love them." Next to her, Gilbert stares off into the starry night, giving a sound of approval. "A very disfunctional, abusive, incestuous family." He adds, lips quirking upwards, as Eliza pushes him lightly. "Next season, on Game of Thrones..." She adds in a grave voice, before laughing. "You think if we were normal humans we'd still have met?" Gilbert says, uncharacteristically grave, shooting her a look. She turns slightly, green eyes meeting red, then muses: "I think we'd have met no matter what. And maybe it would've been much easier." A pause, and then: "But, you know, even with all the chaos in our lives...I wouldn't change it for anything in the world."

And as the stars look down upon earth, Gilbert's scar covered hand reaches out for hers, and yeah, maybe they'll last centuries more. Millennia. Maybe empires will fall, and new times will raise. Maybe they'll fade tomorrow. Regardless, they'll face it together; and throughout the fights and wars to come, as Feliks once said: Kto się czubi, ten się lubi-

They'll be happier than anyone in the world.

–-

FIN

Wow, guys, I can't believe this story has come to an end! Thank you guys all so much for reading along! There's been more than four thousand viewers on Love advice from a Brit, which is incredible!

I'll be taking a little break from writing Hetalia- I have to finish that Valdangelo I started- but I already have an idea for a new story (a bit shorter, hopefully, but really awesome), so if you guys really want me to write some more you can spam me by PMs or on my tumblr (which is am-artist dot tumblr dot com), where I'll be sure to reply ASAP.

Oh, also, for more PruHun, I made a little askblog at ask-the-fairytale-nation dot tumblr dot com where you can ask the two dorks stuff.

Anyway, the main thing is that I want to thank you all for this awesome support and yeah, see you soon!

xx

A