If there was ever a day that could be considered 'normal' in a nation's household, this would be it. Mathew and Gilbert sat on the couch watching TV, oblivious to the pouring rain outside. Mathew ran his fingers through Gilbert's long, silver hair. The albino Prussian reveled in the feeling and had to fight the urge to sleep, his body stretched across the entire couch. Mathew had always wondered how the other man could get so comfortable in such tight clothing. He himself wore jeans and his favorite red hoodie, whilst Gilbert favored tight leather pants and a long sleeved tee. His hand wandered from the silky hair and moved down to the muscular back. The soft petting/ rubbing motion he was using turned into fingers wandering the landscape of the other's back. Through the thin fabric he mapped the ridges and scars left from many wars and many more battles. He felt battle wounds from combat, but he could almost immediately tell which ones weren't received on the front lines. Nation wounds lasted longer than any flesh wound ever would. Prussia gained so many after the dissolution, mostly on his chest though, right over his heart. Canada never could figure out how he had gotten so lucky. No one, not even his own brother could ever manage to remember he existed, and suddenly he had a friend. He would never understand how such a powerful, exotic nation would pick him out of so many others. He would never understand how Gil remembered him, let alone love him.
"Hey, Birdie?" The soft voice cut through his train of thought. "Hmm?" Gilbert shifted, rolling so that he was now on his back, looking up at Mathew. "Do you ever feel like, like, like um I dunno." Gilbert shifted awkwardly as he fished for the right words. "Like you're dating a ghost or something?" The man's crimson eyes remained locked with Mathew's violet ones. Mathew resumed finger combing the albino's hair. "Of course I don't think that, mi amour. Why would you ask something like that?" Gilbert shifted his head a little, looking at Canada's red clad tummy as opposed to looking in his eyes. "I don't know. Maybe because I'm not really alive, I'm not really a nation anymore." Mathew found the Prussian's hand and intertwined the fingers with his own. "I don't have land, I don't have people, I don't even have a heartbeat for heaven's sake!" Gilbert rolled onto his side, burying his face in the soft, red fabric. Mathew pet his side lightly, not really sure what brought this on. "Well, if you were a ghost I don't think I'd mind. You and ghosts have a few things in common." Mathew hoped his joke was taken well. "What?" Gilbert grumbled, his voice was muffled by his boyfriend's abs. "Well you're both pale, awesome, and scare the living hell out of my brother!" Mathew chuckled lightly at his own wit. The sound was music to Gilbert's ears. He turned to get a peak of the smiling face. "Cute Birdie, that's real funny." The laughter died off. "Really Gil, what made you think of that?" A light flush dusted the ivory skin. Gil sat up on the sofa, facing away from the puzzled Canadian. "It's just that, I dunno, You're so warm. Yeah, you're always so warm, and soft, and cozy. You can cook, you enjoy music and art. You get scared, and happy, and sad, and excited. I just don't feel those things like I used to." Mathew didn't believe a word of it. He may not be his old self, but he wasn't nearly the shell of a man that he was making himself out to be. He watched as Gilbert got up and crossed the room, opening the curtains just a crack. As the ruby eyes absorbed the sight of the downpour, Mathew shifted to face his hidden form. "Do you ever feel like you're dating a ghost?" Prussia turned slowly, a questioning look in his eyes. "Why would you ask that? Are you making fun of me?" Mathew shook his head hurriedly. "Of course not, but I'm just as much of a ghost as you are. No one can see me, people feel my presence and get spooked, I like to stick to one place, I-" Gilbert silenced the rant with a soft kiss on the other's lips. "Stop Birdie, that's not true. I see you, you don't scare me. The others don't see you because you're too special, too awesome" He looked into the deep blue, almost purple eyes and saw what the other meant. "And you're not just some emotionless robot. You're just too awesome to let little things bother you like they might have before. You we killed Gil, that changes a person. I know you still feel, you still have a heart." Gilbert's lower lip trembled slightly. "How can you sound so sure about that?" Mathew reached up and gently ran his fingers down the side of the pigmentless face, tangling his fingers in the hair that reached the nape of his neck. Gilbert was cold, but he was used to that. "I sound so sure because I know I'm right. I watch you, I see you feel." Gilbert looked away, shaking his head in juvenile defiance. "You want proof? I'll give you proof." Canada's voice was nothing more than a whisper, it never was. Yet, it gave Gilbert chills. "When you rock out on your 'guitar' you're happy, and enjoying music. When the dreams are bothering you you're sad, scared, angry, and remorseful." Gilbert met the determined eyes again. Mathew wasn't supposed to know about the nightmares, he always worked it out alone before the little blonde woke up. Something in the Canadians gaze made him realize how wrong he was about that. "I know you don't ever cry or make a big scene about it, but that's not because you can't. Stubborn pride and lack of emotion are very different cher." He felt his face heat up, he looked at the floor. "Now you're what; embarrassed, ashamed, guilty?" He took the other's long, cold fingers and held them in his own. "And I know you feel love, just by the way you act. The way Gilbird's nest is made extra fluffy, the way you help your brother when he refuses to admit he's stuck, and by the way you treat me every single day." He leaned forward and hugged the slight albino. "One more thing Gil, a ghost could never be as awesome as you, and you know it." Gilbert hugged Canada back. "You're the best Birdie."
