The bartender slid what must have been his seventh mug of beer over the counter to him, eyeing him with distaste before moving on to serve other customers. The albino, half-slumped over the bar, didn't care and reached for the mug, gulping it down. On a normal night, he'd be on top of the bar singing and declaring his awesomeness for all to hear. But tonight wasn't normal.

"Mon cher, lighten up! It was just a fight; I'm sure she didn't mean it," the blonde Frenchman next to him said, lifting a glass of red wine to his lips.

"Francis is right, Gilbo!" the Spaniard on his other side said brightly. "Lovino's dumped me a billion times! He never actually means it!"

"Lizzie ain't Lovino," Gilbert muttered and slammed his mug on the table. "Oi, bartender! Bring the awesome me another beer!" The bartender glared at him but took his mug and went to refill it.

"I'm sure if you just talk to her, she'll come around," Antonio said comfortingly, clapping his friend on the back.

Gilbert pressed his face into the bar. "She said she hated me. She hasn't said that since we started dating."

"She was just angry, mon ami. Call her in the morning. She'll run back into your arms, and ton amour will be restored!"

"Why should I wait until morning? I want Lizzie now." Gilbert said, raising his head from the bar, guzzling down the rest of his beer. "I'm gonna call her."

"Gilbert, I really don't think –"

"You're not supposed to think. I'm awesome so I do the thinking." Gilbert pulled the phone out of his pocket. He started pressing the numbers, when both of friends jumped him.

"You're drunk, Gil! If you drunk dial her she'll just get angrier!"

"Antonio is right! Call her in le matin!"

"Get off!" Gilbert roared gruffly, wrenching his arms from their grips, spilling them onto the floor. He moved his phone away from their grasping hands. "I'm calling Lizzie. Now." He stormed out of the bar, determined to call Lizzie and convince her that fighting was unawesome and they were awesome together and he was sorry and that she should please forgive him and take him back. The perfect master plan.

He dialed the number as he walked down the street from the bar. It rang, and rang, and rang…and there was Lizzie's voice! He started babbling over her, not hearing a word she said.

"Lizzie! I'm sorry I broke your frying pan and I'm sorry Gilbird got the house all messy…I'm also sorry I set the kitchen on fire. I was trying to make you dinner, y'know, like awesome boyfriends do. And I really miss you, Liz, and…I love you! Please forgive me; we're awesome together."

His words were met with silence on the other end. No response. He got nothing.


More silence.

"Let's not fight anymore."

Still silence.

"I love you, Elizaveta."

Nothing. Then a dial tone and the operator asking him if he would like to try his call again.

He shoved the phone in his pocket roughly and stormed into the nearest liquor store and bought a twelve pack of good German beer – not the shitty stuff the bar had been selling.

Gilbert woke up the next morning with a pounding in his head, like a million Elizavetas beating him with frying pans. He cracked his eyes open, wincing at the bright light. The room was familiar; why on Earth was he on Lizzie's couch?

"Oh, you're awake."

Gilbert snapped his head around to look at the source of the voice, who was standing behind him. He tumbled off the couch and thudded to the floor in the process. Elizaveta laughed, and he looked up at her blearily. She had her hair pulled up into a ponytail and was wearing pajama pants and a tight black tank top – and was that one of his dress shirts she had on?

"How did I get here?" Gilbert mumbled, sitting up and holding his head in his hands as if it would ease the throbbing.

"You walked. Well, stumbled is more like it." Elizaveta disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, and returned with a glass of water and two aspirins.

"Danke," he said, popping the pills and drinking the water.

"You were wasted," Elizaveta said, crouching next to him as he finished off the water. "How many beers did you have, for God's sake?"

"I dun remember," Gilbert answered, rubbing his temples. "Wait…I walked here?"

"Stumbled," Elizaveta corrected. "You were completely and utterly wasted, crying about our came here to talk about it, but you threw up on my floor and then passed out on my couch."

Gilbert felt what little color there was in his face drain away. Oh, God, he'd made it even worse. There was no way she'd ever take him back now…

"I don't know why you kept asking for me to take you back, though," she continued. "I never even dumped you."

Gilbert froze in shock and turned toward her slowly. "You didn't?"

"Nope," she said, popping the "p."

"But…I called you and told you I loved you and asked you to take me back."

"Yes, you did. Five times. Each time more drunken than the last."

"And you never answered me after you answered the phone. It was just silence. I got nothing."

"What you got was my voicemail," Lizzie replied, pulling out her phone and playing a most unawesome message for him to hear, complete with crying, pleading, and drunken hiccupping. He felt himself flush with embarrassment.

"So…you never dumped me?"

"No. I told you to get the hell out of my apartment."

"That sounds like dumping to me."

"Well, I meant it as telling you to get the hell out of my apartment so I could clean up your mess and calm down."

"You said you hated me."

"I didn't mean it. I was just mad."

"That's not awesome, Lizzie!"

"Oh, hush your whining." She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I don't hate you. I'm sorry I said I did. I love you, you know that."

"Everyone loves me. I'm awesome."

"Mmmm," she said, smirking slightly. "You're so awesome that you cry and drunk dial and vomit on people's floors. That took forever to clean up, you know." Gilbert glared at her, opening his mouth to retort, but she kissed him on the lips to shut him up. "I'm going to make breakfast." She turned to go, but a hand firmly latched onto her wrist and dragged her down to the floor. She let out a yelp as she landed in the smirking Gilbert's lap.

"Y'know, after scaring me like that that I was gonna lose you, leaving me with just a kiss isn't very awesome," he said, nuzzling her neck. "You at least gotta make out with me before breakfast."

Elizaveta sighed, feigning indecision. "Hmmmm…okay. But only because you asked so nicely." Gilbert grinned and kissed her, just happy that she was back in his arms.

A/N: The ending has some problems, but I didn't know how else to end it. ^^" Second one-shot of the day! I'm on a roll or something. I probably should do my AP homework…but I want to write fanfiction instead. XD Anyway, I hope I kept them in character and everything. I was listening to the song "Nothing" by The Script and this came to mind…except I gave it a happy ending. =) Please review and tell me how I did!