Secrets Revealed

°Chapter Four°

Each nation began to awake and go through their daily routine before heading to the meeting room hoping that someone besides England had prepared breakfast. Unfortunately for all of them their wishes had not come true as the British personification had been up from the wee hours of the morning preparing a true English breakfast which was comprised of fried eggs, sausages, back bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread,hot buttered toast with a cup of Earl Grey. Well that's what it was supposed to be anyways, however due to England's non- existent cooking skills everything came out either burned or somehow spoiled including the tea.

“Hey Iggy,” America greeted as he walked into the meeting room with Matthew by his side. “Dude, what's the smell? Did something die in here?”

“Shut it you insolent twit! Sit down, be quiet and enjoy the delicious breakfast that I cooked,” England demanded. “And don't call me •Iggy! My name is England and get it right.”

“Okay •Iggy,” America nodded as he moved to his usual seat with Matthew silently trailing behind. “Mattie do you think we have a chance to escape?”

“Probably not,” Matthew whispered. “He's got his eyes on us like a hawk.”

“Eat up boys! After all breakfast the most important meal of the day America and um, Canada.” England smiled as he took a quick peek at his arm where Francis had written his son’s name the night before.

“He actually remembered my name!” Matthew thought surprised but extremely happy. “I suddenly feel as if I can stomach this breakfast without vomiting, probably, hopefully.”

“On the bright side if I need to vomit and I get caught no one will judge me because they'll probably be in the stall next to me,” Alfred thought.

“*Bon jour mon amie,” Francis greeted as he strolled into the room with his sparkles behind him. “Everyone slept well, oui? Where were you Mathieu? I came to check on you last night and your bed was cold and your room empty. Did you leave the meeting room to go to a date? Ohonohonhon.”

“Papa!” Matthew exclaimed. “Of course not! I never have dates when I have meetings. I went to Alfred's room last night because I couldn't sleep properly. And I would have told you if I was leaving anyway.”

“Stop the dilly dallying and eat up!” England exclaimed cheerfully as he waved his spatula.

“But what is there to eat mon lapin? All I see is coal! Are you on Finland’s naughty list?” Francis teased as he sat down to the left of Matthew and gave his son a wink.

Alfred, Matthew and Francis stared at the food more than a little hesitant to eat it considering the last time Italy tried it he was green for a week. Alfred took a deep breath and shoved as much food down his throat as possible wanting to get it all done with.

“I can't do this!” Alfred choked out as he rushed out of the meeting room and down the hall to the bathroom.

“I better make sure he's okay.” Matthew said as he followed his brother out of the room.

“Not even America can stomach your food  Angleterre,” Francis sighed as he shook his head. “He can stomach everything edible but then your food isn't edible is it?”

“Shut it you frog!” Arthur exclaimed. “There's nothing wrong with my food, you simply have no sense of taste.”

“Whatever you say Arthur. I think I should go check up on the boys they've been gone for a long time. Perhaps we should just order pizza, non? After all we are in America the home of fast food.” Francis suggested.

“Did Opium cook?” China questioned as he stopped Francis outside the meeting room.

“Yes.” Francis answered shortly as he headed to the bathroom hearing the vague sound of vomiting.