England:

Arthur seethed at the delighted grin that stretched Alfred’s lips. There was no mistake he caught Arthur’s mistake before he made it and held his tongue. He could hear him already in the future recounting the event for ammunition in one of their arguments. “For a laugh!” Arthur cut in defensively, folding his arms against his chest. If a poet were to describe, they’d compare him to an angry cat with its fur sticking up in defense.

Yet, just as quickly as that anger settled and he was planning away to get back at him for it, Arthur’s mood quickly switched to confusion. His eyebrows knitted together and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. What ploy was he plotting now? Was he trying to get him to forgive him? He let out a huff as his arms unraveled, eased by the kind gesture. The frown stayed on his face; he refused to show that he had been won over so easily. “…Nevertheless, you’re not forgiven.”

     Alfred wished he could have recorded the whole ordeal. Between Arthur’s expressions and the action itself he would have gotten at least a hundred views on vine since it was just that good. “Of course~ Think of it as getting even for every time you made fun of me when I messed up,” he chuckled, grin still not vanishing at all. Sure there was some hell to come from this, but right now the American wouldn’t change the circumstances for anything.

     Though he didn’t pick up on Arthur’s true feelings, Alfred knew that his ‘kind deed’ was working in his favor. He knew Arthur couldn’t refuse a ‘gentleman’s touch’ to anything he did, much like he knew it took a lot of willpower to refuse his pouting expressions, but he was glad that the shorter male didn’t figure out his own intentions either. “I wasn’t expecting to be. I was just showing you how nice I can be,” he smiled. ‘And I wanted to impress you a little.’