Today was June 11, a week or two after the aftermath of the library thing. A young American boy was up on the palace walls, one of his legs was propped on the wall while the other dangled on the edge. The prince had escaped music lessons and hid there, his royal guard was trying to find him.

America hummed a tune while waiting to be found because he knew that the Russian was more than capable to find him very soon. The American heard the crunching of grass but it didn't sound like Russia. He glanced over at the noise, a young girl with her hair tied up stood there with a basket full of laundry in hand.

Her flag was a bright shade of yellow and blue, she had an ocean blue flower on her ear. It was similar to the flowers from the royal garden that was gifted to the 4 royal siblings to teach them about "responsibility"

"May I ask what your highness is doing up there?" she sarcastically asked, she knew he had escaped but still asked. "Ah don't remind me!..." the prince hushed her and shut his eyes.

"Ukraine right?" He snapped his fingers with a proud shit eating grin plastered on this face.

Ukraine stood there a little dumbfounded, "what an honor that your highness knows who I, a mere maid is," she dramatically implied. America couldn't help but chuckle a little, this lady had sass and a sense of humor which is pretty rare nowadays.

"You know who I'm hiding from already," he scoffed with a smile on his face. "Indeed I do, the tall good looking Russian over there," she pointed with her chin.

"You know him? Are you guys friends?"

"I do, my younger sister has always been sticking around him for some reason, she introduced me to him." The Ukrainian girl placed her basket of clothes down and started hanging them up to dry.

America burst out laughing, "I never knew such a boring and strict person like him could ever get friends!"

"Maybe refrain from talking shit about him for the next few days, his birthday is soon so maybe that will suffice as a good enough gift," he could tell she was offending the prince in a joking manner. "His birthday is tomorrow?"

Ukraine turned to the prince with a 'are you fucking serious' expression. "Aren't you technically the closest one to him? How in the world do you not know his birthday?"

The prince could not reply, "it is tomorrow, my little sister wanted to give him a gift and throw a small party for him," the girl neatened out another piece of cloth.

"She's really insistent on it since he never really had a childhood," Ukraine added. The American was silent, he never thought there would be someone who knew his guard that much, he had the sudden urge to know more about Russia.

He realized he was spacing out and turned to the girl again who paid no mind to him as she hung up the laundry. "I'm gonna join in," he said determined and proud.

"You don't need to trouble yourself your highness," she said in a monotone voice, it somewhat resembled Russia's. "I insist it's okay, besides I want to do this."

"Well okay, thank you your highness," a soft smile grew on her face.

From a distance the Russian noticed both figures smiling as they talked. His eyebrows twitched slightly as his neutral face grew into a small frown.

He walked up to the two of them, "prince get down, your instructor is still waiting for you," he said with a twinge of annoyance in his voice. "Nu-uh," the prince crossed his arms and pouted.

Russia glanced at Ukraine, she noticed. He slightly bowed at her, then turned back to the prince.

America had already stood up on the wall and started walking with his arms straight to his side while humming a tune. "Prince you'll fall be careful," he followed.

America remembered an old scene, he fell from this wall back when he was 10. Escaping from his instructor, no one was there to catch him though. He ended up fracturing his leg.

"I wonder what would happen if I-" he tipped sideways on purpose and fell. His guard's eyes widened but caught him in his arms without faltering.

America was gripping his neck very tightly with both arms, despite everything he was still quite scared of falling. "Are you okay prince?"

He finally opened his eyes, "yes I'm fine I was just clumsy," the prince lied after all he fell on purpose. Though the fact that his guard would catch him without even a warning was quite reassuring.

The guard put him down gently, "thanks!" The prince beamed with a bright smile. "Your lessons are already over by now," the Russian took out his pocket watch from his pocket.

"Where did you get the watch? It's very nice," The prince tilted his head in curiosity. "A young maiden, Belarus, she gave it to me."

The corners of America's mouth twitched, "haha, okay, I'll be off to my room now you can spend the rest of the day doing whatever," America waved off both of them and practically sprinted to his room.

After turning the first corner he came face to face with his brother Canada. Almost bumping into him, "jeez watch where you're going!" The Canadian cocked his head.

"Sorry bro, don't be so uptight," America playfully punched his shoulder. "I saw what happened," he crossed his arms.

"You two better not become homo's, you looked like a Queen America," Canada raised an eyebrow. "No fucking way stop joking around, I'm going to my room now, I ain't dealing with your shit ya nerd," he pushed past his younger brother and entered his room.

Notes : Queen is a slang word for Homosexual feminine males

In the american's head he had already been silently planning what he would do for the Russian's birthday tomorrow.

Canada sighed, "that troublemaker, what does he get out of acting like a homo with his guard," he complained under his breath. "I'm worried for his reputation."

...

Later that evening, knocks were heard on the kitchen doors. One of the royal cooks swung the door open, the prince stood there. "Your highness, what are you doing here?"

"I need to speak to my mom's pastry chef, have you seen her?" His eyes searched around. "Yes she's over there," the cook pointed at another cook, she was a middle aged lady with an apron neatly tied around her waist.

"If it isn't my favorite prince," she noticed America walking up to her. "what do you mean? I'm everyone's favorite prince," he gave a smug look, "what brings your highness here on this fine day?" She chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"Paris, you're my mom's best pastry chef," he leaned on the counter. "Apparently so," she humbly replied. "Can you make a cake for me?"

"How odd, why would you want a cake now? I serve cakes every dinner, be patient your highness."

"It's not for me, it's for someone, it's their birthday tomorrow," the prince stared at the macaroons that Paris was making on the counter. "I see, you'd like to impress this one person," she gave a sly grin.

"Uh I guess? Can you teach me to make one?" America rephrased what he said. "Of course of course! It's not everyday you see the narcissistic and arrogant prince want to actually impress someone!" She jokingly exclaimed.

"Ouch."

...

They started making the cake, she tutored him from the side. The prince's movements were graceful and fast, he whisked the batter quite quickly.

"Good good now we mold it and put it in the coal stove," she gestured the prince to the large black coal oven. He carefully placed the cake in the oven and shut the door, only now did he realize how messy he was. His clothes were all tainted with white splotches of flour.

Paris moved closer to the royal boy, "so tell me about this person," she wiggles her eyebrows. "Who?" The prince said obliviously. "The one who you're trying to impress of course!"

"Let's see, they're just really nice to me, it's fun to have them around," the prince dreamily said.

Paris let out a 'hmm'

"Do you fancy them?" She asked in curiosity, "umm, I don't know, I don't think it's even allowed," America averted his gaze. "Forbidden love I see," Paris sighed with her eyes closed.

"Who said I loved them?"

"It's okay prince I was joking," she burst out laughing. "I think the cake is done let's get it out, don't forget to cover your hands, it's hot."

After they took it out and placed it on the table, it smelled really good. "It's a pretty nice cake for a first time," she complimented honestly. "Of course! I'm the most talented prince you're talking to," he joked.

"Haha of course," Paris took out decorations. "What color do you want it?"

Suddenly Russia's amber eyes flashed in his mind, the beautiful ones that stared at him that one day in the library.

"Amber red should be fine," he said with his face turning a shade of pink but it wasn't very noticeable. "Alright."

They both decorated the cake, America wasn't very neat or good at this in general but Paris reassured it was pretty good for his first time.

"Can you keep the cake? I'll take it tomorrow," America said as they finished up. "Of course, now hurry off to dinner, I have to finish up the pastries for dinner later."

The prince scurried along, he exited the kitchen obtaining a few odd glances from the other cooks there.

As he walked to his room he noticed the Russian walking around. They both noticed each other, "prince, what happened," the Russian walked up to him.

America only now noticed how dirty and messy he was. "It's nothing I was just in the kitchen."

The Russian extended a hand and bent down, cleaning the flour marks on his face with his thumb. "Please be cleaner next time."

"Hahaha of course," America said with his face turning red, thank goodness it was nighttime and hardy noticeable that way. He pushed past and entered his room.

He cleaned up while tracing the areas on his face where Russia placed his thumb. "What the hell is wrong with me."

...

The next day, everything went the same, nothing out of the ordinary. But when the evening fell, America rushed over to the kitchen, Paris noticed him and gave him a smile.

"Here," she handed him the cake, "be careful and," she added when he was about to leave. "Good luck."

American walked over to the outdoor patio they had, a table was already ready, there was only a few people there. Suddenly Belarus ran in while dragging Russia.

When he saw the patio his eyes widened, "happy birthday!" They all shouted. He walked closer, America handed him a cake, "here, I made this, it isn't very good though."

Russia stared at it for awhile, "it's nice just needs a few improvement, thank you," he said in a monotone voice, his deep accent rung in the american's ear. America noticed a red hue and a tiny smile on his face, but he shook it off as him probably hallucinating.

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Note : 1 spell check