It was a beautiful Sunday morning when she was delivered into this world. A cold, spring day, which still had old remnants of winter tingeing the winds as they riled up the last sweep of fall leaves.

But the story really starts on a sunny day in May. Yes, that's where we should really begin.

May 16th

The two had sat across from each other, eyes no longer locked in hatred, whatever driving force of animosity which was ever there to begin with had dissipated, a cloudy love hazing over.

There was a faint heat to his cheeks as Alfred looked away, Ivan cracking a knowing smile as the conference went on, their odd behavior undetected.

"And finally, I would like to announce that in better news," almost everyone in the room was roused from whatever dream world they had drifted to or whatever board stupor they had slipped into, at the mentioning of "Better News."

"Eliziveta is going to have her baby soon, and I thought it would be a nice gesture to give her a card," Arthur was interrupted by a quick, French accent.

"Or maybe some clothes and toys." Francis' smile widened as Italy gave a squeal of approval, England simply rolled his eyes, heaving a sigh.

"Yes, yes, anything of the sort would be a great idea." the bell rang through the room, signifying the fact that the conference was over. A few countries jumped up and bolted for the door, " Keep in mind she's having a boy!" The Englishman yelled after them. "I would hate for him to grow up in a dress like Francis."

Alfred couldn't help but chuckle as his foster parents fought, France's hands grabbing a hold of England's belt loops, pulling him close, the shorter blonde shying away as he tried to kiss him, face red and eyes down cast. But it was only a matter of minutes before a young woman walked into the room, her sun caressed skin darkening beneath a wonderfully blue cotton dress. In a faithful instant, Francis was at his girlfriend's side, laughing as he kissed her hand gently, taking her arm to lead her away. Arthur was left still and beating in the silence, still flustered and blushing from France's touch.

'I guess you never out grow your first love. But I also guess that your first is supposed to always last.' He had grown up with the thought of 'Love at first sight' and 'Happy Endings' but after these past years, he knew love and adoration was too complicated for it to 'just work' the first time. America mused over the subject as he closed his note book with a soft, sad sort of smile, eyes glancing back over to Ivan's seat. 'Must have left early. I guess he's had his fill of family today.' he slung his jacket over his shoulder and turned to leave only to see the door closing, a tall figure unveiling himself from the shadow as the lock clicked into place.

"You're still here, where's England?" The Russian's smile spread about his lips with a calming effect, his fingers beckoning to Alfred as he met him half way, his nose brushing his own, eyelashes tickling his cheeks as the two mingled.

"He left while you were deep in thought," Ivan simply answered in a breathy tone, the silence seeping in. The only sounds were the crisp clothes crinkling as his hands slipped underneath their bindings, buttons popping softly as he tore at the fabric. The young nation tipped his head back, arching toward the touch as if he'd never felt that pleasure, though there were thousands of instances where he'd known of more carnal contact.

Gentle, patient hands pressed against Ivan, "We can't," his eyes held a dulling memory, of another country who was waited somewhere for him, unknowing of what was happening now.

"He won't know," the amethyst eyes were pleading, dragging out any excuse to have this moment, to feel the heat and bask in the breathy sighs one more time. His met his trembling lips with a deep kiss, pulling back to see if the other would follow their embrace, and just as he thought, Alfred pressed back the kiss never breaking. The opposition slacked a little, Ivan taking the advantage to smooth his hands over the budding love handles, how sweet and round his hips were, and how peach the skin. But just before he could dive into anything past a sort of, 'no return' passion, Alfred squirmed uncomfortably, as if waking from a bizarre, groggy dream. Ivan reached again for him but the blonde shook his head, biting his lip as he passed the other with a gentle brush.

"But I will."

Author's Comments:

Well this is my first story on FanFiction, but I feel really confident on this! Basically, it's all about a love triangle as different people find new love, rekindle old relationships, and find that maybe you can't really have it all.