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"Ow! Bloody hell!" Arthur cried when he hit the floor. "Bloody fucking hell" he added, scrambling up off the ground and standing to glare at Lovino, who stood with his arms crossed by the other side of the bed. "Did you just fucking come into my room to come push me off my bed?!"

"I was trying to wake you up," the Italian said matter-of-factly.

"Hmmmhmm, hmmhmm, and you could not think of any other bloody way to wake me up?! That floor was freezing and you almost broke one of my teeth!"

"Oh calm the fuck down! You are wearing like twelve layers of pajamas- I doubt you felt anything. I almost thought you had so much padding that you'd just bounce off the floor and land back on the bed," Lovino smirked.

"Well I took off my socks during the night okay? It was like ninety degrees in here!"

"Well that is not my fault you bastard! Okay, you should have known that I was going to come in here this morning and shove you off your bed and kept your damn socks on!"

Arthur stood there for a moment, looking at the Italian with complete disbelief.

"I...," he started, trying to think of something to say. "Should've known...tha...socks...ARE YOU MAD?!"

"Some have said I was, but I don't see how that's relevant now."

"I..." the Brit started, but realized he was at a loss for words again.

"See? You have no excuse!" Lovino cried accusingly.

"No excu-" Arthur paused to take a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why, on Earth Lovino, would I have assumed when I was going to sleep yesterday night that you would come into my room and push me off the bed?"

"Cause, you Britsh motherfucker, you had one damn job! One. DAMN. Job."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Are you serious right now?" the Italian asked with an unbelieving expression. "No, you're not. You're not. Cause if you are, you're an idiot and I, Lovino Vargas, would never agree to room with an idiot."

"Wha? No, I don't know what you are talking about right now 'cause you are making absolutely zero sense Lovino."

"Oh. My. God. I've roomed with an idiot," the brunet said as if he was having a great epiphany. He pressed the palms of his hands on his shut eyes and breathed deeply. "I am sharing an apartment with an incompetent buffoon."

"What?!" Arthur cried, completely annoyed at this point. "What are you talking about?!"

"Yesterday! I am talking about yesterday!" Lovino shouted, putting his hands down and glaring at the dirty blond.

"What about yesterday?!"

"You had one job to do and you failed miserably!"

"What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking ab- I am talking about the fact that this morning I woke up wanting to eat some spaghetti-"

"At eight in the morning?" the Brit asked, raising an an eyebrow.

"Yes, that's what time it is right now, is it not? Now let me finish, you bastardo. I went to the kitchen and to my surprise the only thing we had to eat were fucking twig covered tea bags and grass-stained blood sausage!"

"Oh," the Englishman let out, suddenly remembering his grocery run yesterday.

"Oh?" the brunet repeated incredulously, crossing his arms again. "All you have to say is just fucking oh?!"

"Oh...kay?"

"OKAY?! Jesus Fucking Christ, if I didn't need you to pay the rent I'd totally kick your ass right now!"

"It wasn't my fault okay? I didn't take my car and so I had to take a ride with Francis. But of course, I couldn't let him know where I lived so I had to walk through the woods so he-"

"Stop!" the Italian ordered, unfolding his arms and rubbing his temples. "Just stop. Ughhhhh. Trust me, he says. I can go get the groceries all by myself, he lies. Are you sure? I offer. I can go, I don't mind getting off work early, I say. No, I can do it, he lies aga-"

"What are you talking about?! You never offered to go yesterday!"

"Well, I would've if I had known that you were so fucking incompetent!" Lovino cried, pointing a finger accusingly at Arthur. "I mean, all you had to do was go get some groceries. All you had to was go to a store in a damn car and put some things in a cart and swipe a card. But you know what, it is my fault. I should've known that you would have found some way to fuck it up."

"Hey, it's not like we're never getting our groceries, okay? I have a date with Francis later tonight and he's going to bring the food with him. By tonight you'll have them back."

"If I fucking wanted our groceries tonight, I would have gone grocery shopping today."

"Oh calm the bloody hell down Lovino, You're going to get your food soon."

"I do not think you understand. We have no food in the house. So unless you want me to eat tea-infused blood sausage, I'm going to starve!"

*BEEP BEEP*

"Crap, that was my alarm," Lovino cursed, taking his phone out of his pocket. "It's already nine-thirty, which means that I need to be at the coffee shop in fifteen minutes. Well thanks a ton Arthur, I have officially wasted my morning screaming at you!"

"Hey!" the Brit screamed back. "It's no-"

"Shut the fuck up. I need to go now," the brunet cried, making his way towards the door. "When I get back, you better have the fucking groceries!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~One Hour Later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"When I get back, you better have the bloody groceries," Arthur said, imitating Lovino as he walked out of his apartment building and turned left down the sidewalk. "As if he thinks he is the boss of me or something. I'll get the groceries when I feel like getting the groceries back. There's no wa-" The Brit stopped ranting to himself when he heard something that made his whole body freeze up.

"Oui, oui, I'll be there," he heard a voice say behind him. "Of course, we have already agreed on this."

Crap, crap, Arthur thought. That's not Francis is it? I mean, I'm pretty sure that there are plenty of people with French accents like that in this part of town. The Brit quickly turned his head for a second and saw Francis walking down the sidewalk behind him. He seemed to be in a conversation with someone on the phone. Francis seemed to recognize Arthur as he smiled and nodded in his direction. The Englishman turned his head back forward. Crap, crap, that is Francis. And he might have recognized me... I am too close to home... I can't have him know where I live... That's how they get you... I need to find some way to avoid him... how though...how... The dirty blond looked around and saw nothing but sidewalk and decorative bushes lined up on the side of the pavement.

"Arthur! Mon cher!" the Brit heard behind him. No, crap. I've got to get out of here casually. Casually and coolly.

"Arthur!" he heard again, but the voice sounded a bit closer this time. Arthur panicked and looked toward the bushes. The Englishman did the only thing that made sense to him. He jumped into the bushes.

He hit the grass that bush was covering hard and when he checked his knee, his pants were ripped. The dirty blond adjusted himself into a squatting position on the ground under the bush. Goddamn, these are new pants too. Now, I am going to have to visit my tailor tomorrow mo- wait, crap. Those are approaching footsteps...okay, Arthur just gotta keep completely quiet...maybe he'll just walk by me. He heard the footsteps get louder and louder until they were right in front of him. After, he couldn't detect any more movement.

"I'll call you back," the Brit heard Francis say directly in front of the bush. Stay quiet Arthur, maybe he'll just walk aw-

"Hello," Francis said, opening a hole in the top of the bush and looking at the Brit. "You know most people would just, you know, take a rest on like a bench or something like that. But uh, I guess this works for you."

"Ha ha," the Englishman mocked. "You should really become a comedian."

"Well, I try," the blond smirked.

"I bet, now if you will excuse me," Arthur said, before smacking the Frenchman's hands away and closing the hole in the bush. It was a full minute before Francis looked in the bush again.

"What was that?"

"Ugh, some people have no respect for other's privacy. Well, I guess I am going to get no work done now. I might as well leave," the Brit decided and stood up out of his squatting position.

"Work?" the Frenchman asked, taken aback. "What kind of work exactly do you do in a bush?"

"Jeez, what is this? An interrogation? It's none of your business," Arthur said, walking back onto the sidewalk and moving forward.

"You know what I think, mon cher?" the blond asked, following the Brit. "I think you jumped into that bush because you saw me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and I've got to say, that's painful," Francis stated, feigning hurt.

"And in what world would I actually jump into a bush just to avoid you?" the dirty blond questioned, trying to pretend that he didn't just do that.

"Um, this world because you just did it."

"That's what you think."

"Then why did you jump into the bush?"

"Gosh, when did it become illegal to try to take some time to yourself in a bush 'cause I didn't get the memo!"

"So, you're trying to tell me you jumped into a bush just because you wanted to?" the Frenchman asked unbelievingly. "'Cause I find that hard to believe."

"Well you better believe it."

"Hmmm." Francis had nothing to say back to that so the couple just walked quietly for a few moments before the he opted to break the silence.

"So what are you doing coming out of that apartment building? That's miles away from your forest home."

"Ha ha, you really are quite comical," Arthur sneered. "And it's none of your damn business."

"Ahhh come on, is really everything a secret with you?"

"Maybe. You can never be too careful. You know, that's how they-"

"Get you. Yeah, I know. But come on. What is it. like your real home or something?" the Frenchman chuckled.

"HA HA HA!" the Englishman faked laugh, startling Francis. "As if. It is actually just the place of a friend of mine."

"Friend. huh?"

"Yeah friend. A guy friend," the Brit added nervously. "You know, a comrade who is a boy. A boy friend if you will."

"Boyfriend?" Francis asked, raising an eyebrow. "You have a boyfriend?"

"Oh uh." Arthur paused. "No."

"But you just sai-"

"I know, um. I just meant that it's casual." Casual? Really? The dirty blond thought, mentally kicking himself. Why would you say that?

"Oh, so you're seeing the both of us is what you're saying?" the Frenchman questioned, feeling taken aback by Arthur's confession.

"I mean I guess you could say that... you can say a lot of things."

"Wow," Francis let out, looking straight ahead without his usual smug grin.

"Oh, uh..." The Englishman didn't know why he cared, but he felt bad that blond was no longer showing his upbeat demeanor. "But uh, you know, we never said we were exclusive."

"Yeah," the Frenchman agreed still looking forward. "That's true. So um, what's this other guy like?"

"Oh uh, you know, guyish."

"Guyish?" the blond asked, turning toward the Brit. "What does that mean exactly?"

"Um, you know what?" Arthur said as he stopped walking, realizing that he probably couldn't think of anything more on the spot. "I think I forgot to finish something back there. I'll see you tonight okay?"

"Back there?" Francis stopped moving too and turned towards the Englishman. "As in the bush?"

"No, as in the spaceship," the Brit chuckled to himself, as he started to walk back towards his apartment building. "Of courrse, back in the bush. Bring the groceries later okay?"

"What? You still don't honestly expect me to-"

"Ugh yes I do," Arthur said, not turning around. "I paid for them myself and don't want you getting your frenchy hands all over them."

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