6th Floor Kitchen, Saturday Morning
Waking up with an insane hairy idiot in his closet had not been Arthur's (or England's or UK's, whatever name you chose to pick) first choice for an agreeable morning. Most upsetting.
He also had no idea where he was, but it was likely he had simply passed out in the pub last night and forgotten about it. Whatever the case, he was peckish. A good breakfast would do him well.
And so he found himself in the kitchen, boiling water for the tea, mixing up dough for the scones and badly burning cooking sausages.
All be warned. The kitchen was full of hazardous materials this morning.
[[ so I seem to hate myself. arthur is now arthur kirkland, anthromorphic representation of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland from Hetalia. post is open. mocking myself has ensued; and i swear i won't mention this again, but he looks exactly like arthur, just with thicker brows and green eyes. hush. ]]
He also had no idea where he was, but it was likely he had simply passed out in the pub last night and forgotten about it. Whatever the case, he was peckish. A good breakfast would do him well.
And so he found himself in the kitchen, boiling water for the tea, mixing up dough for the scones and badly burning cooking sausages.
All be warned. The kitchen was full of hazardous materials this morning.
[[ so I seem to hate myself. arthur is now arthur kirkland, anthromorphic representation of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland from Hetalia. post is open. mocking myself has ensued; and i swear i won't mention this again, but he looks exactly like arthur, just with thicker brows and green eyes. hush. ]]