Okay so I'm aware I haven't updated in a bit like I promised, but I swear this will be the last shortish chapter, I will have more time to write a thorough chapter long enough to keep everyone here hooked. I've just been busy lately with school and marching band (so many COMPETITIONS) so I may be a while between updates but I will get longer chapters that a promise! Thanks, hope you enjoy ❤️

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"You did WHAT!?"

Alfred held the phone away from his ear and sighed.

"Do I need to say it again, Artie? I'm letting her stay here"

America could practically feel the Brit on the other end rubbing at his temple, sighing in annoyance.

"I'm not bloody sure, you remember what she DID TO YOU, YOU GIT!" England retaliated angrily.

There was a crash on the other end of the phone and Arthur yelled in anger.

"My tea! Look what you've done you frog, you've gotten tea all over my new vest!"

In an amused response, Alfred a familiar 'hon hon hon' in the background.

"Sorry Angleratte, I simply tripped, accidents happen."

"Accidents indeed. That's why you exist." Arthur grumbled to himself.

There was another crash and he heard the two men scream and argue in their native tongue to one another.

Fights like these always entertained Alfred during world meetings, or at any time, but now, at a very serious and stressful moment, it was more irritating than funny.

"Would you two PLEASE stop!" Alfred bellowed into the phone, slamming his wrist onto the dining room table.

He flinched for a moment, hearing Belarus shift in her sleep in the other room.

Spread across the couch, Natalya slept peacefully in a Yankees shirt two times bigger than her shirt size, serving as a nightshirt the American generously let her borrow.

He heard silent hissing between Francis and Arthur, and before he could snap at them again, they responded.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Mm yes, sorry Alfred. I'm just unfortunately BLESSED with a visit from dear old France."

Francis blew a raspberry at Arthur, and was cut off at the sound of him choking, as if he were being strangled. Of course, Arthur strangling Francis, everything truly was normal.

"Can we focus on the subject at hand please?" Alfred said, gritting his teeth, impatient with the two bickering Europeans.

"Well, Amerique, I would suggest this if you're feeling stressed. If she loves you then, you can take advantage of something in particular to calm you, mon garçon."

The Frenchman chuckled and Alfred turned bright pink.

"What!? Oh my god no, I'm not going to get freaky with that chick! What gave you the idea that I'd wanna bang her up?!"

Arthur slapped Francis hard, and he whined, slapping the Englishman back.

"Of course this kind of idea would come from YOU, you wanker!" Arthur exclaimed, ready to strangle France once again. America spoke again before he had the chance.

"Please just give me an idea or anything here fellas! I'm stuck with this...this,".

He paused, looking for a less harsher word than 'psychopath'

"This...this crazy chick, and she's flat out proposing to me every second dude! I panicked, made a bet, and here we are now!"

"Why in Pierre's name would you make a bet over your freedom with her?" France asked in a puzzled tone.

"I wanted her off my ass okay," Alfred responded.

"It would feel much better if she were on your ass, hon hon hon" Francis giggled.

"NOT NOW FRANCE!" America yelled through clenched teeth.

"If I lose this proposition , I'm gonna have to marry her right after the first god damn date!"

"Give me the phone, twat" Arthur demanded, wrestling it from France.

He tugged the phone from England's grip, and held it to his ear, pushing away Francis.

"Now listen lad, the solution is quite simple."

"Don't you pull that bullshit on me Artie! I'm basically trapped!" America groaned, sinking into his chair.

"Calm down, lad. All you need to do is make sure you don't get too close with her."

Alfred shook his head. "England...I also want her to have a friend. I see her as one, since we were roommates back in 1991."

"Why don't you do what you did when you were roommates back in 91 then?" Francis asked.

"Because back then she didn't wanna BLOODY MARRY HIM!" England retorted, shoving him away, his hand on Francis' face.

"Arthur...she's lonely and she's been basically abused by Ivan. I'm the hero...so I wanna help."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "This feels more than just that "hero" crap. You're doing this for her, not yourself, aren't you?"

Alfred went silent.

He was right. He wasn't doing this just to save another damsel in distress, this was the first time in a long time he was doing this out of...well, the heart.

"She's different" Alfred sighed. "I could see the abuse and sadness in her eyes. And I just resent Russia for the damage he did. I don't want her to be alone, and if she seeks me out enough to marry me...then I can't ignore her simply."

"Oh don't tell me you're gonna fall for her, now lad?" England groaned.

Alfred felt his face grow hot, and he vigorously shook her head. "S-she's not my type at all....I don't see her that way" Alfred defended.

Although, she was kind of cute....that platinum hair, those glaze violet eyes, those sweet cherry blooms lips, her porcelain doll skin, her-

Alfred had to slap himself in anger to stop his thought process. What the hell was he thinking!? He had just stated she was simply his soon-to-be friend! He wasn't romantically attracted to her AT ALL.

"America, hello? Are you still there, ol' chap?"

Alfred blinked a couple of times and responded with a simple, monotone, "Yes."

"If you really wanna help her Alfred...then be her friend. Do whatever the hell you're gonna do, just don't get too close to her."

Alfred shook his head. "It won't be that easy."

"Well if you're gonna complain like a little wanker, then I have another solution," Arthur mumbled in an irritated tone. "You know I do black magic, yes?"

Alfred's widened, and his grip on the phone tightened. "Arthur no, I can't do that. For one...isn't that cruel? And two, she'd be able to tell. She knows black magic herself!"

"Alfred, I can disguise it, I am brilliant after all in the art of magic. I can just whip up something anti-love and, there, she's out of your life."

"Artie didn't you just here what I said!? I want to be a friend to her, I don't wanna drive her away...she's really lonely. Won't an anti-love remedy just drive her away completely?" Alfred sighed, bringing the phone away from his ear.

"But if you don't wanna marry her, that's the best solution right now, lad."

Alfred said nothing, as he placed the phone on the table with a small thunk.

He felt completely numb at this point.

An anti-love remedy? Would that be the right thing to do?

She loved him clearly, and there were no signs of her stopping anytime too.

But he made a promise. He was going to thaw out her heart, he was going to help her.

Would this go against his promise? Was he really that scared of her love?

Would she finally see the true idiot she loved if he gave her the remedy? Because she could have done so much better...yet she stuck with him.

"Alfred? Hello? Are you still there, lad?"

With that, Alfred reached for the phone...and hung up.

He couldn't stand the second idea. It was too cruel. It make him just like everyone else. He would end up pushing her away just like Russia. And he promised her.

He promised himself.

That's when the tears began.

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The floorboards under her feet slowly creaked, as she climbed the stairs as slowly as she could.

She needed to find him. She needed to see him. His dreary face from their conversation seemed to haunt her mind. Things had felt tense between them for the rest of the evening. Alfred had simply given her a t-shirt, blanket, and pillow, and silently went into the other room.

Something felt wrong with their interaction.

Was he really gonna be her one and only? She couldn't believe it, it was so easy. Alll she had to do was win him over.

He'd see what she saw in their love, and he'd be her's forever.

But she had to wait...

Alfred wanted the proposition to be fair and sensible, so she had to go through the grueling experience of becoming his...friend.

That word partially stung her ears. Alfred was not her friend, he was her soulmate for goodness sake!

It was the middle of the night, yet her tired mind raced, his name the only thing zooming back and forth through her thoughts.

She could have sworn in her deep sleep, she heard muffled cries, distant sobs clouding her head. Was if Alfred? Was it real?

Her eyes landed on a door, wide open, revealing a dark, yet moonlit room. At the end of the room, was a master bed, red and white striped sheets covering the mattress. On top of the covers, laid a sleeping figure, curled in the fertile position.

It was America, the moonlight shining on top of his peaceful form. The light outlined his figure in a bright luminous white. She traced the line with her eyes, and it led to-

She quickly adverted her gaze.

He was shirtless, his chest glistening slightly with sweat, the moonlight generously catching it.

She slowly looked back at him, and her face turned pink. Slowly, she took a step through the doorframe. Hundreds of posters plastered the walls, mostly baseball and very American rock bands. She was only glued to the American laying peacefully in bed. He was so peaceful, so graceful, so.....beautiful. The closer she got, the finer the detail got. His skin, a beautiful milky tan against the moonlight, his eyelashes slowly curling up against his eyelids, his silky, yet messy golden locks. Her eyes wandered back to his bare chest. She saw muscle flashing pridefully from his pecs, but the further she looked, she saw a cute little flap of small fat on his stomach.

"What a glutton" she sighed to herself. But besides that....he was in good shape. Nations teased him constantly for being overweight...but seeing him in a shirtless state...she saw he wasn't at all what the nations depicted.

Her cheeks grew rosy red, and she slowly backed away, reaching for the door handle. But, instead of leaving the room, she closed it behind her, and approached the bed gracefully. She climbed onto the large mattress, and slowly curled up at the end of the bed.

A small snore erupted from Alfred's mouth, and she practically tumbled off the bed. She took a long deep breath, and settled in on top of the squishy mattress.

As time passed by, she listened to the soft rhythm of his breathing, almost as if it were a soothing lullaby to her. Her eyes dropped and she felt sleep pulling her into blackness.

Letting out a small yawn, Natalya finally settled in, and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Two words. Ideas bellow! If you have ideas or small ones for this story feel free to drop it bellow in the comments! I've already fleshes out the main plot and some details but there is still free space for some more small little cute fluffy ideas. Don't be shy!

I'll get the next update out hopefully in a couple weeks if marching band doesn't consume me alive. High school UGH.

ALSO HERES AMEBEL I DREW ON THE BACK OF MY FOLDED UP FRENCH 2 HOMEWORK FOR EVERYONE. TRUST ME I DRAW SO MUCH BETTER THAN THIS, ITS MY CARTOONY STYLE REEE!!!