[ March 28th ] Caution: Wet Floor

[Belle Rousseau]

Lifting and eyebrow Belle looked up at the American, watching him thoughtfully for a moment as he carefully pressed the tape to the corner of the poster. Was he trying to drop another hint? It was about as subtle as his cash register hint earlier but he certainly tried to make it seem like it was. The humming was a nice touch though. It almost made it seem like he was nonchalant. Almost.

She decided to be nice though, looking down and tearing off two more pieces of tape for the last two corners and handing them to him as she pondered it.

"It is, isn't it?" she started, looking though the window at nothing in particular. "Well, like I said, I'm saving up for my dress. So I suppose it would depend how much the bid is now."

[Alfred F. Jones]

"Still $50," he told her, thinking that she was falling into his hands slowly but surely. "I'm kind of a steal at that price! And I'm sure whatever dress you get you'll still be pretty."

Throwing the compliment in there was hard. He wasn't very good at flirting, all things considered. He wasn't a romantic country like France or Italy, but he knew how to flirt, technically, despite being unpracticed in the art. This was for the sake of raising more money for charity and going to the dance with someone female and not England or France, though! It was time to roll out the big guns.

[Belle Rousseau]

Belle was already walking back to put the tape dispenser back, setting it down behind the counter before she made her way back to her things. Fifty dollars didn't seem like much for charity (her idea of auctioning dates with more people could have helped with that but it was his charity so she wouldn't say anything about it) but for someone who just started working again and was looking to actually SAVE it, it was still a very steep price.

"I'm sure you are but it's still out of my price range," she said as she collected her things and walked over to the door to wait for him, smiling just a little at the compliment. "Thank you."

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

The door opened slowly in front of Belle and almost seemed to creak. Belarus hadn't touched it but somehow, it swung open and there she was, standing ominously on the other side. "Marriage. Marriage. Marriage."

She was obviously looking for her one and only true love.

[Alfred F. Jones]

America was just starting to pout a little and was considering renewing his offer of lending her the money to donate to charity, when the front door of the cafe opened in a creepy manner he'd often seen and screamed at in horror movies. He managed to avoid screaming, but only barely. Instinctively, he blocked Belle's body with his own in case it was a murderer or cafe-robber or something.

But it was just Belarus. America didn't know whether to be relieved or not. And why was she repeating "Marriage" over and over? He would never understand this girl.

"Uh..." he said. "Hey there..."

[Belle Rousseau]

With a cold shiver, Belle felt her body freeze at the strongly possessive aura that suddenly filled the air and she slowly turned her head as the door creaked and groaned open and, as though in a cliche horror film, there was a clap of thunder in the distance as the dark sky lit up with one terrifying lightening bolt, illuminating the doorway and the single silhouette standing there.

"Uhm," she started as she peeked around Alfred, looking slightly confused if not a little terrified. Really, how often do all those events just HAPPEN to happen in such a horrifyingly realistic display of classic horror movies. That had to be coincidence, right? "Hello. Do you need something?"

She may have been off the clock but she had to offer anyway.

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

The lightning bolt lit up Belarus' face, but her eyes remained hidden underneath her bangs. She was breathing deeply, almost jaggedly as she looked back and forth between the two in front of her. Just as the flash cleared, she looked up, revealing her eyes.

"Hello, Mr. Alfred," she greeted. Belarus didn't know this other girl so she felt no obligation to greet her despite the fact that the stranger had said something to her. "Funny running into you again."

[Alfred F. Jones]

"Funny" wouldn't be the word he'd have used to describe this. That lightning was completely random and did not reflect the weather outside at all. "Yeah," he said, forcing a smile, "imagine that. Russia's not here, though, last I checked..."

Not that he'd checked. But he was pretty sure the odds were stacked against him being here, and he couldn't think of any other reason she'd barge in chanting the word "marriage".

[Belle Rousseau]

"Russia?" she repeated, looking up curiously at him for a moment before looking back at the girl. She must have been one of them but Belle had never met her before. She would have remembered someone like her. She found her to be a very pretty girl, though she was dressed a little oddly and she would have thought her to be sweet had she not entered in such a terrifying manner.

A moment later, Belle was stepping out from behind Alfred, looking at the girl curiously as she ignored her and spoke to him instead. They must have known each other.

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

The dark aura around Natalia faded completely as she was left with just the two of them and no signs of Satan to be found. (Though you never know with that crafty Satan, that tricky little devil.) She signed forlornly at Alfred's answer and glanced longingly to the heavens. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder," she said before turning and finally acknowledging the blond girl. After all, she said Russia's name so therefore, they must have something in common.

She nodded slightly and put her hand on her heart. "Yes, Russia."

[Alfred F. Jones]

"She's got a really hardcore crush on him," America explained to Belle, quietly though it was possible Belarus might here him. "Seriously hardcore. You... don't want to know..."

He wasn't going to go into more detail with Belarus here.

[Belle Rousseau]

She leaned over and listened intently before nodding. That must be a serious crush if she was going around chanting "Marriage" while she looked for him. But, it was rather sweet in an odd way. Devotion would have been a good word. But if she couldn't find him she couldn't help but wonder if maybe Russia were hiding from her. Men, they could never truly understand a woman's devotion.

"Gotcha," she murmured back quietly before looking back at Belarus. "I haven't seen anyone else from school around here but I can keep an eye out for him. What does he look like?"

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

What does he look like? Belarus wasn't sure what sorts of customs they held in Belgium but it was not often customary to ask what God looked like. She looked at America and then leaned awkwardly toward Belgium. "A lot more attractive than your boyfriend," she whispered to Belgium, though loud enough for America to hear.

"Mr. Alfred is nice but Russia would win a wet T-shirt contest," Belarus had to remain ladylike in order to keep from drooling all over herself at the thought of Russia's rippling pectorals shining through his wet shirt. She hoped that Belgium would stay with America so that Belarus wouldn't have to worry about competition.

[Alfred F. Jones]

Belgium had a boyfriend? America found himself asking. Belarus had looked at him when she said it, what was that supposed to mean? Had Belarus seen him flirting with Belgium earlier? Did she see that and think that he was trying to convince a taken girl into going to the dance with him? That wouldn't do! That just wasn't true!

But then Belarus was comparing HIM to Russia in the context of wet t-shirt contests and that only confused America even more. How could he begin to apologize for not knowing about Belle's boyfriend? How could he explain to Belarus that he wasn't hitting on a taken woman?

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend," he addressed Belgium. And to Belarus, he said slightly more defensively, "I didn't know she had a boyfriend!"

[Belle Rousseau]

Boyfriend? Belle looked around for a moment before noticing how close she was standing to America and took a small step to the side, giving her arm a little wave as she shook her head. They had only just met and she didn't think they looked comfortable enough with each other to look that close. Or at least she didn't think so. Then again, she was used to being around guys, she hung out with entirely too many of them.

"O-Oh no no... he's not my boyfriend," she stammered, a very faint blush rising to her cheeks. "And I don't. I'm pretty sure she was talking about you..." she said without looking at him.