A/N at bottom

1763 (night after last chapter)

Matthew woke up late that morning hoping last night was a dream (and no, it was not). He glanced around the room. He hadn't seen much because it had been pitch black when he arrived at Englands house. The room was bare, with a bed, desk, chair, and bureau. There wasn't much to look at, so he figured he'd walk downstairs.

He could honestly say he wasnt surprised to be the first one awake. Considering he had personally witness England down his weight in alcohol the night before, he had just assumed that he would lock himself, hungover, in his room for the entire day. Very professional of him. And Alfred... was no where to be found.

So Matthew took this grand opportunity to sit quietly in the kitchen and reflect. England (he still refused to call him "Arthur") so far, seemed like a disaster and a drink. He would rather be forced to stay with anyone else, and now he had this "Alfred" kid to deal with as well. He missed Francis. He wanted to see Ludwig and Romano. He wanted to go home.

Finally, he heard noises in the other room. A disheveled England walked into the room wearing the clothes he had worn the night before.

"Alfred, what are you doing down here so early? Go back to-" he stopped. He stared at Matthew.

"Who are you?"

"I... Matthieu."

"How did you get here?"

"You took me here."

"When?"

"... last night."

"Last night? I.. oh yeah. Sorry Matthew."

"Matthieu."

England looked at him like he had no idea what he was talking about.

"I guess I'm supposed to introduce you to Alf-"

"HI IGGY!" Alfred, a little blond child, ran into the room, completely ignoring Matthew. England winced at the noise.

"Hi Alfred."

"Iggy can you make breakfast?"

"Yes, but first I have to introduce you to your brother."

"But I don't have a brother."

"While, you do now. This is Matthew."

Matthew tried to force a smile, but Alfred didn't look the least bit interested.

"Yeah, whatever, can you make breakfast now?"

Matthew would be lying if he said he wasn't a little bit hurt.

But England looked to tired to fight it (not to mention he was hungover).

"Fine, I'll start dinner."

"Yay! Come on what's-your-name!"

As Matthew would soon learn, there's nothing like a shitty English breakfast to compliment a shitty morning.

A/N

And that's the chapter! Just warning you, its about to go DOWN in the next one! As always, criticisms are greatly appreciated! The next chapter goes up next Friday!

Also, I started a new story if anyone is interested. It's basically about Canada, ghosts, and history. It's called:

The 5 Ghosts Canada Met Throughout His Life (And One Bonus)