AN: Hello there! You may recognize me, I'm the author of this fanfiction, I know it's certainly been awhile since I've written anything, but it's still me. It's been over a year since I've updated this, and I apologize, but there is one simple reason I stopped writing. I am no longer an active member of the Hetalia fandom, that's it. And I am sincerely sorry for that! Don't get me wrong, Hetalia will always have a special place in my heart but I've moved onto things like Supernatural, Sherlock, Orphan Black and the like (I know, big change from the happy-go-lucky anime!) and honestly I'd just kinda forgot about this. But due to the fact that it's been over a year now and I'm still getting emails about this fic (I've gotten three new reviews in the past few days? I don't know how you all are still finding this but hey, I'm not complaining. Glad you guys are liking it!) I've decided I'm going to attempt continuing this! :) I still have a vague idea of where I wanted this story to go, so I'll take a shot at completing it. But I'm not gonna lie, updates will most likely be slow for this one. Very slow. But at least I'm continuing right? (I know how it feels to find a fanfiction you like and see it hasn't been updated in years so I'm doing my best here) Anyways! I hope you all enjoy the long awaited fourth chapter :)

Finding his way out of that bloody maze the frog called a home was certainly easier said than done. Every door he opened just seemed to lead to another corridor or some empty bedroom or something of the like, he could've sworn it took him at least an hour to find the first set of stairs and for Christ's sake who on earth could possibly use this many bathrooms? It was ridiculous, disgusting really. One person using up all this space for himself, how much more selfish can you get? This building alone could accommodate an entire army on it's own and yet here it is, being used entirely for the pleasure of a single Frenchman.

I mean, he's sure the bloody frog must have some incredibly rich parents to afford this piece of extravagance, but Arthur had yet to see any sign of anyone but that wanker living here. He'd had to have opened every bloody door in the house by now and not a single of the rooms looked remotely lived in. Like, anyone who stepped into Arthur's crappy little apartment could absolutely tell that place is occupied. They may think it's occupied by pigs, as his brother obviously never learned how to keep things tidy or you know, use a garbage can… But when you step into that apartment, the one thing you know for sure is that someone's definitely living there. Even if that someone may be a barnyard animal. The Frenchman's house on the other hand, was completely the opposite. You looked around and it looked more like a showhome than anything else, if Arthur had just wandered in he wouldn't have guessed in a million years that anyone was actually living there. It was too perfect, no stains on the carpet, no bottles left on the coffee table, nothing. It was empty, dead. He almost felt bad for anyone that had to live all alone in this monstrosity, but then he remembered who did live here and any sympathy he'd felt just washed away. The prick deserved it. Hopefully he'd get lost in this labyrinth of his and starve to death or something, now that would be a dream come true.

Finally, after he was beginning to doubt the existence of an exit at all in this place, he found a door that opened up to reveal the sun shining into his face. This would've been a relief to him too if he hadn't forgotten about that Tylenol he'd been offered earlier. A groan of pain was unintentionally released from his lips as his headache resurfaced with a new intensity, and the Brit vowed to himself he'd never drink again. It was a vow he made quite often actually, and one that would probably be broken by the end of the day.

He stumbled out into that Hellish sunlight, letting the door slam shut behind him. Immediately his feet started leading him home, and he followed them blindly, not feeling up to using his brain too much at the moment.

You know, maybe he was being a bit harsh on the frog… It's only a day into the school year and that bloody git's already been treating him better than anyone has in a pathetically long time. He even asked for his phone number, really, what in the Hell was that? Obviously he's up to something. But maybe he isn't…?

Oh god, there it was, that feeling again, Arthur thought he'd killed that years ago. That stupid feeling that always ended in pain, he wasn't actually letting that come back was he? Arthur didn't want to hope, he knew how hope ended. It always ended the same way. Disappointment. And he didn't need any more of that in his life. He was perfectly happy in his misery thank you very much, and he'd rather it not be disturbed.

But sadly, hope wasn't the only feeling seeping back into his heart, certainly not. But Arthur would rather die than admit what else is going on in his head. In his heart… No. He wouldn't admit something that isn't there. Something that absolutely was never there. It's not true and anyone that accused him of having those feelings would be lucky to get a boot to the face.

Arthur hadn't realized he'd been glaring at the sidewalk, but when he noticed he quickly looked up, blushing a bit in embarrassment and looking around to make sure nobody was watching him. Thankfully the streets were mostly bare minus a few parked cars on the side of the road. Thank God, he probably looked like a bloody idiot just glaring at the sidewalk like that. What was he, angry at the bloody concrete? Moron.

Wait a moment… He knew this sidewalk. That was Alfred's name dried into the concrete, he passed it everyday on his way home... But he wasn't going home was he? He was going… Oh bloody hell, where was he going? Had he even chosen a destination?

He quickly turned around, not wanting to get too close to home and accidentally run into that absolute wanker known as his brother. But Arthur would be sure to revoke him of that title at his earliest convenience.

Honestly, Arthur had no idea where he was going now, nor did he care. He just decided his destination would just be wherever he ended up, and as long as that place wasn't his own home or the Frog's mansion, he'd be happy with it.

"Mein Gott he's obsessed," the German. or Prussian as he liked to call himself, laughed as he flipped through the old sketchbook in his hands, "Does he draw anything else?"

Antonio leaned over, peaking at the drawings over Gilbert's shoulder, "Oh! They're so pretty though! Why are you laughing? I like them!" He smiled, clearly impressed, and Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"Are you even seeing this Toni? He's an obsessive freak! I'd be scared Franny, very scared."

"Oh you shut up," Francis tugged the sketchbook out of Gilbert's hands, "It's none of your business what he chooses to draw, I say he has good taste~" Francis smiled, setting the sketchbook down out of their sight so hopefully his incredibly immature friends would forget about it. You know how it is, out of sight out of mind. Hopefully that applied here. "Now would you get your feet off the coffee table Gilbert?"

"Oh well of course you would say that, but seriously? How have you not gotten into bed with him yet?" The Prussian teased, ignoring his friend's request "he must be so easy! Are you losing your touch?"

"Mais non! Of course not! Some people just need a bit more convincing, it's best to take it slow with people like Arthur. He'll be mine soon, I promise~" Francis insisted, "Besides, I've certainly gotten farther than either of you have, I already have his number~"

Antonio flopped down on the couch, head in Gilbert's lap and legs dangling off the edge of the sofa as clearly his earlier position sitting in the corner hadn't been comfortable enough for him, "I don't know, I think things with me and Lovi are going pretty well!" He smiled dreamily.

"He spit in your face," Gilbert stated, not minding the intrusion into his personal bubble. He was used to it, there was really no such thing as personal space between the three. Any trace of that was killed years ago when this friendship first began.

"Yeah! He does that…" Antonio looked up at his albino friend, a pleasant smile still present on his face, "How are things going with you and Matthew?"

"Mattie? Oh, uh… Ja, we uh… We screwed…! It was awesome" He said quickly, blushing and scratching his head, "totally awesome"

"Quoi? Gilbert why didn't you say anything?"

"I, uh… You know, just wanted to give you guys a chance! Cause I'm such a great guy and all, didn't want to take the spotlight right away! You're welcome"

"He's lying!" Antonio said, pointing at Gilbert accusingly.

"I am not!"

"You scratch your head when you lie!"

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Have you even spoken to him?"

"... Yes"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" This part though, was actually true. He had spoken to Matthew. "First day of high school! He was in my, uh… my… gym class! Yeah, we said hi to each other. He looks really good in shorts"

Both his friends laugh. Gilbert just smiled awkwardly, face still flushed red with embarrassment. He could obviously get Mattie if he wanted to, he could. He just… the time wasn't right. He could win this competition, and he would. But, like he said earlier… He at least has to give those two losers a chance, the second he tried he would win this. So the plan of course… Swoop in at the last second, wow that gorgeous blond, get in that cute little butt of his and then of course, relish in his victory and rub the twenty bucks in Franny and Toni's faces. Yeah, victory would be sweet. His plan was flawless. And he would go through with it too! He would and everyone would bow down to his awesomeness, not that they don't already but… They would do it more! Point is, it would be awesome.

Oh he couldn't wait.

"But have you seen Lovi in shorts? I bet that would be even cuter!"

"Mein Gott you're almost as creepy as Arthur, you've known him one day" Gilbert laughed at his friend while also being slightly concerned about this sudden obsession of his. Like honestly, never in his life had he seen Antonio this enamored with someone. I mean he'd had his little crushes before and then well, there was the incident with Francis that one time, but he wasn't supposed to talk about that. Other than that though, Antonio had never really been a big lovey dovey type…

Okay that actually was a lie too, he did his fair share of flirting and all that but really Gilbert could swear this time was different, very different. Maybe he just had some hidden masochistic tendencies or something and just liked being spit on? Oh gott that was gross, oh gott no ew. Ewww. Now he had some really messed up pictures of his friend in his head, lord he'd need bleach to wipe that out of his brain. Ugh, that's enough. No more thinking about Toni's sex life.

"I don't know mon ami, I think I'd call that love, wouldn't you~?"

"Naah, that love at first sight stuff is bullshit"

"Well Gilbert, I'd say Antonio is living proof against that!"

Gilbert opened his mouth to argue but before he had a chance to make a sound he'd already been interrupted by the ridiculously attractive Spaniard lying on his lap, "Hey, do you two hear something?" Antonio looked around curiously, and again Gilbert was silenced by his friend. This time he had a hand slapped over his mouth as it opened and he grunted in annoyance. They didn't deserve to be graced with his words anyway. Too bad for them.

"Oh! I think I hear it!" Francis exclaimed, getting up and moving to the adjacent room, leaving his friends behind.

What Antonio had heard was actually music, quite loud music actually, he wondered how he hadn't heard it himself. He couldn't place the band but it certainly wasn't anything he hoped to hear again. To be honest it was already giving him a headache and he wondered why anyone would listen to that horridness willingly.

But seeing it coming from Arthur's phone didn't surprise him. That man certainly took pride in his taste of music, even if it sounded like a recording taken straight out of the underworld.

It was an old beat up phone, and the second he dug it out of the covers he knew it absolutely didn't belong to anyone living in this house. There were standards in this house, and this phone didn't meet them by far. But nonetheless, the Frenchman examined the phone and recognized it as belonging to the Brit who had been here earlier this morning, poor boy must have forgotten it in his rush to get out of here.

But another thing he noticed while holding the phone, if you could even use a word like that for this piece of garbage, was that it actually hadn't decided of it's own free will to just start playing this atrocious "music", but in fact it was just ringing. And the name displayed on the front…

Well, Francis wasn't going to repeat those words. Absolutely not, again, he had standards and he'd prefer to keep words that disgusting out of his vocabulary. But he did wonder who on earth could merit such a… strongly worded contact name. He wouldn't be surprised to see that as his own contact name but well, who could Arthur possibly hate more than Francis himself? Cause that certainly wasn't him calling.

Hmm…

His curiosity got the best of him, and Francis picked up the phone.

AN: And there you go! That would be the end of this chapter. I actually wrote the first half of this chapter about a month ago, but due to GISHWHES and conventions and lack of good internet, I was unable to complete it until now. Sorry about the delay! The very, very long delay… and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! There will hopefully be more to come soon :) And I'd just like to thank everyone who's favorited, followed or left a review because honestly, you guys are what brought this story back from the dead. And I encourage you to leave a review if you like what you've read! Thank you all so much for reading! :)