A/N: This is technically the first multi-chaptered story I've finished.

Wow.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Things went back to normal after that.

Technically, Gilbert's plan had worked with no repercussions and he didn't even have to date anyone.

…

Yeah, that's not how things work at all.

Gilbert tried to go through his day, but it seemed like he was the only one. Francis spoke to him almost coldly, and Antonio's attempts at friendly banter fell flat. It had happened before during a lull in their days, tests occupying their minds.

Antonio's attempts included:

"Hey, do you want a churro?"

"Should we plan something for the pep rally on Friday?"

"…guys, I might move over to sit with Femke. And Lars."

"Would I look good as a blonde?"

"So, Lovina and I were thinking about joining the circus as lion tamers."

Aforementioned Italian heard that and slapped him on the back of the head with a curse, effectively shutting him up.

It must be said that this time Gilbert was deliberately avoiding conversation for once in his life, and Francis didn't really mind at all.

Their reasons were very different, but the results were the same.

Gilbert knew if he mentioned any of their plans for that evening it would come out that he was still planning on going to Alfred's.

Francis felt rightfully betrayed.

Antonio felt rightfully bored.

Anyway, everything just had that strained feeling, though they all knew it would blow over fairly quickly. Sure, the rumors were already spreading, saying Gilbert had dumped Mathilde before the first date and the like.

Technically, a few of them were true.

It didn't matter though. A week long "relationship" wasn't all that exciting. Gilbert would be down on dating options for a little while, but strangely he didn't really mind.

And so things were normal, but they really weren't.

Somehow, through all of that, Gilbert remembered something. He still needed to call Antonio about his bike, and he didn't want to wait in case it rained or someone decided they really wanted an old bike with a flat tire.

Now Gilbert could drive. In fact, he drove to school every morning. …but his car couldn't fit a bike in it. Plus he could easily bike to Francis' or Antonio's house and not waste gas. Then he would have to get a job. If he got a job that would mean fewer parties, then he wouldn't be as awesome anymore.

…so he had to call Antonio.

"Hey, I left my bike at that café the other day. Can you drop by and help me out?" He asked, crossing his fingers.

"Yeah sure, amigo. Just a minute."

Sure enough, Antonio's old pick-up truck appeared in the driveway in no time at all. Gilbert tossed on a coat and went outside, yelling to Ludwig that he'd be back later. He worried when the Prussian didn't tell him when he left.

So he clambered into the red truck, seating himself in the small cabin next to the Spaniard.

"So we're just picking up your bike, right?" Antonio asked, pulling away from the curb. "You're not planning any tricks for me, I hope."

"Course not. Just want my bike back. It's an awesome bike, you know." Gilbert said, smirking.

"Oh yeah, I mean, you have only repainted it twice and it's only broken down three times…"

"See!"

"…in the last year."

Gilbert glared at him and without saying a word or taking his gaze off him, reached up and pulled a piece of the ceiling out.

"Touché."

So they reached the café, and Gilbert climbed out and opened the truck bed…

"Dude, why are there so many tomatoes back here?"

Indeed, there were about three crates of unwashed tomatoes piled in the back of the truck.

"I just picked them!" Antonio responded, leaning his head out the window.

Gilbert shrugged and lifted his bike in easily, making sure not to hit the crates, lest he earn the wrath of Antonio sans tomatoes.

Antonio sans tomatoes is a very bad entity.

He clambered back into the truck. "Hey, I'd hate to be a fifth wheel, but do you think there'll be space in the car?"

"What?"

"Yeah, I mean, since we'll all be heading to the party. You and Lovina are still going with Luddy and Feli, right?" Gilbert asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"You're going?" Antonio said, glancing from the road.

"Why not?"

Antonio stopped the car on the side of the road.

"Gilbert, you can't think that—"

"My plan worked? Well it did. I managed it." Gilbert said. He didn't really have a point to defend, but he was going to defend it. Maybe this was that stubbornness Ludwig was always talking about.

Antonio glared at him, "You could have apologized."

"I tried, and she didn't want to talk to me."

Antonio had to admit it; he knew from Francis –who had been at Alfred's that evening– that Mathilde was upset and wouldn't talk. "You still don't have to go without her."

"Well I can't exactly go with her." Gilbert responded.

"She's staying at Francis' during the party, we'll just head over and—"

"She doesn't want to talk to me. And you know what; I don't want to talk to her that much either." It was a lie, but apparently it was believable, because Antonio started the car with a scoff.

It hadn't been much farther, and Antonio apparently had one more thing to say. "You can't just do this sort of thing, Gilbert."

"Antonio, I'm going to the goddamn party!"

The Spaniard didn't even look at him as he got out of the car, unlocking the doors for Gilbert. He then went around, pulled out the bike, and tossed it onto the lawn. Well, more like slammed it into the grass.

But he didn't tense up like he normally did, actually sighing with a blank look. "I'm telling you: Know you shouldn't show up."

And then he drove off.

The Prussian went over to the bike. "Great, idiot broke the chain…"

Gilbert showed up at the party just as it was getting good. Francis was flirting with every girl he saw, Antonio was hanging around Lovina; Elizaveta was trying to get Roderich to dance like a normal human being. Ludwig pushed past him to find Feliciana.

Gilbert lasted about five minutes.

Then he was grabbed, Francis on one side and Antonio on the other. They dragged him out to Francis' car and tossed him in the back seat. He felt a sharp pain on his cheek and noted that Lovina had come along.

Before he knew it, they were driving.

"Hey, guys-!" He yelped, pawing at the door. No good there, with the wonderful invention that is child locks. "You can't just… just kidnap me!"

"They already did, stupid." Lovina said.

Oh wonderful, they've stuck me back here with the crazy one.

Francis hummed some too-happy tune, "Oh yes and I'm sure you can guess where we're going."

"You're not seriously going to… Come on! I just want to go to the party!"

"Quit whining." Lovina said without missing a beat.

"Gilbert, you're going to apologize and tell her you still like her." Antonio responded, "We're not in the business of hurting poor girls."

"Wait, what was that?"

"Uh, we don't want to hurt girls?"

"The first part." Gilbert specified. "What is that 'still like her'?"

"Mon ami, we know. Why do you think I let you date her?" Francis answered, glancing back.

Gilbert looked down at the floor of the car. He had almost been ready to just date Mathilde, even almost asked about it… Was that really as stupid as he thought? What if he did really like her?

What if he just made a giant mistake and the one person who didn't see it, was himself?

For once, he couldn't really be proud of coming to a deep and meaningful conclusion.

Lovina slapped him on the head, "Pay attention; we're there."

He hit his head against the window, practically falling out when Francis opened the door. "Oof!"

"Should have worn a seatbelt." Francis chastised briefly before dragging him to his feet.

"Quit manhandling me…" Gilbert struggled against his grip, "You… You Frenchman!"

"Oh my, I'm so offended…" muttered Francis, leading him up to the front porch.

"You should be." Lovina noted dryly before shutting the car door again.

"Hey, I can just get up and leave, you know." Gilbert said, letting himself be sat down on a wooden bench.

Francis knocked on the door anyway, fiddling with his cellphone in one hand. "You've really chased her up a tree. The least you can do is apologize."

And then he just left Gilbert there, sitting on the porch.

He looked down at his hands and muttered a curse. I can just tell her sorry and things will go back to normal, or…

Or I could actually admit something deep to myself for once

The door opened, and Gilbert's head shot up to meet Mathilde's wide gaze, which likely matched his own.

He stood up, too quickly and without the supposed "awesome-ness" he had hoped for. "Mathilde… I just wanted to—"

She slammed the door.

And right after he had made a decent decision for once in his life.

His shoulders fell, but he knocked on the door again anyway. "Mathilde? Mattie! Hey, can I at least try to apologize?"

The door locked.

"Alright well, I'm not gonna stalk you or anything, so you don't have to hear my awesome apology." He tried, and turned around to leave.

Mathilde poked her head out shyly. Her eyes were a tad puffier than when they had met his only minutes ago, and he wanted to slap himself for accidentally making her cry again.

"…go ahead." She said; her voice as quiet and strong as always.

He smiled inwardly, but tried to stay serious. Serious could be awesome too. "Ah, well, you see…" Flustered was a step down, but not bad. "I'm sorry. I don't know what anyone expects me to do. I guess I should have brought you flowers, or a romantic poem, or some crap like that… But all I can say is that I'm really, really sorry." He looked up in thought, "Should I like, explain everything that happened? I mean, I'm sure you don't have the full story."

"Please do." She was more comfortable now, leaning against the doorframe.

"Okay well, it was like this: I did need to date you to get into Al's party. That's why I got to know you. But now, I'm glad I did it, because…" He stuttered, "You're an awesome person. You really are."

And then Mathilde crashed into his chest, hugging him tightly. It took him a moment, but he hugged her back with a smile.

It was all quite sweet, really.

She muttered something into his shirt.

"Didn't quite catch that."

She pulled away, "I said, thank you."

"Why?" He asked, genuinely confused.

She hugged him again, "For all this. Even if Francis and Antonio were behind it, I'm glad you came."

"So what are we now?" The albino asked. "Other than Gilbert and Mathilde. And awesome."

Mathilde smiled broadly, "We are the awesome Gilbert and Mathilde, of course."

"That is the most cliché thing I have ever heard, and I love the sound of it." He said, and kissed her head. "Now come on, I heard there's an amazing party going on…"

Her face fell.

"…hosted by a certain Prussian who has money for a late, awesome fast-food dinner."

And then they were laughing like idiots again.