A/N: I've decided to upload all my fics into a single account. eye of the beholder until let the walls break down were originally only uploaded to my AO3 account, callingthequits. Then I went back to my roots and thought, "Hey, why not post it on Fanfiction too?" so here I am.

It may not be obvious, but the title is from Next Year by Two Door Cinema Club.

Alfred sticks his nose up in the air and huffs, "Well, at least I don't celebrate wedding anniversaries with my supposed enemy!"

Arthur rolls his eyes and scoffs. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he says.

The American stares at him for a moment, then smirks. "Oh really? Entente Cordiale, you don't know what that means?"

Then there is silence, because nobody ever brings that up.

Arthur flushes red, and Francis stands up from behind him and yells out, "Amerique, how dare you! You pronounced that wrong!" because there is honestly nothing else to say except denial. And France is a proud country, so is Francis, and Elizabeta knows that there is no way the Frenchman would ever go down that route. So she sighs, rests her chin on the palm of her hand, and sighs again.

Honestly.

Men.

It's as plain as day to her. The way that Francis will never hesitate to flirt with Arthur, or the way that Arthur gets this embarrassed but pleased blush whenever he does. Francis' little petnames, Arthur's little glint in his eye when he sees him, the way they're always together...For once, she'll admit that Alfred was a little bit right, in a way, even though she would never once admit to the two nations that she thought the Entente Cordiale was a bit like a wedding. What kind of "enemies" actually talk to each other the way they do? An insult there, a bit of bragging, but still the underlayer of it just being a joke, and then the tiny sliver of affection. What the hell, and who the hell do they think they're fooling?

Because she saw them, once, in a petite cafe in Paris, laughing over their tea, their fingers close enough to touch, and their eyes glued to each other.

She caught her breath when she caught sight of them.

They looked so in love with each other that it physically hurt to see.

Her green eyes dart around to find the blonde trio, to find Francis glaring at a terrified Alfred and a resigned Arthur in the middle. Her eyebrows shoot up in interest, a feline grin curling on her lips. A love triangle, eh? She whirls around to find Kiku, and he nods. She sends him a thumbs-up.

Maybe sometime, Arthur and Francis will get their heads out of their asses and find out what they've been hiding for all these years. Meanwhile, Mama Hungary's got something to read tonight.