Arthur peered next to him laughing at the sleeping figure recalling the memories of the day before.

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E: I can't believe you did that I loved you America!

A: and I love you, please don't leave

E: if you really love me then I wouldn't have caught you with your pants down, with Russia no less

A: I know how you feel but hear me out

E: you know how I feel? I sincerely doubt it.

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He stormed out of the house leaving a pathetic sobbing mess behind him. He left to frog's house he wasn't entirely sure why that bastard fought against him too many times to count. When he arrived at his doorstep with a tear stained face no explanation was needed and France babied him much like he did when they were young. Of course, francis' inhibitions never changed but this evening it was Englands turn to mess with his counterpart granted that he had drunk a full bottle of wine.

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That brings us to now. England looked over at France's curled up figure; stifling laughter. How could he have been so naive to think he loved America it wasn't even the first time this had happened. Gently he brought his hand to the exposed skin of his partner's shoulder. Francis twitched and rolled over to look at Arthur who curled into his chest and sighed contently still thinking of how he quickly he ran to his rival for comfort.