He was being uncharacteristically quiet, I thought as I played the last verse of the piece I was composing, crossing out and replacing a note afterwards. I shifted on the piano bench, looking over my shoulder to see why Gilbert was so silent. He seemed to be... Sleeping.
I crossed the room, shoes clacking against the marble in my quest to prove my theory correct. And correct it was indeed, I frowned, examining his closed eyes.
It miffed me how he could just walk into my home and fall asleep on my couch. Then it worried me, because he'd been listening to me play. Did I put him out with my music? Was it boring?
Such questions ran through my head as I stopped in front of him, taken aback at his appearance.
"How... Cute," I mused, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he slept. It was hard to think of Prussia being cute in any way. He was always a stubborn, overbearing person. I would almost prefer Russia's company to Gilbert's on most occasions. There was just something about the peaceful expression he held and the silvery sheen his hair gave off as it reflected the rays from the moon, which changed my mind.
I was at first planning to wake him up and send him home, but now... I just didn't have the heart to do it. Instead, I reached for the blanket folded neatly on the arm of the couch, spreading it over him. I turned to leave, but thought better of it. Who knows what he might do if he wakes up alone in my music room.
Instead I sat on the couch next to Gilbert and rested my head against the back; watching him again. Carefully I lifted the edge of the blanket and unfolded it further, covering my legs with the soft purple fabric.
In his sleep, he leaned to the right, arm slipping behind and pulling me closer. I stiffened as his head fell to my shoulder, hair brushing against my neck. He mumbled something, or perhaps it was merely the wind. It was a soft sound, constant, but nearly inaudible. Besides that, all I could hear was our breathing. I inferred, then, that it was indeed the wind, whispering in the night.
I relaxed, sighing his name in frustration. Even now, he managed to bother me. He didn't have to try, I thought as I ran my fingers through the silver locks. It was soothing, the feel of those silky strands against my fingers. His hair always looked so hard and spiky, as if he used some form of hair spray to hold it in place.
"You are a mystery... How vexing..." I whispered, my arms wrapping around him in a form of hug as I began to drift off... Eyelids growing heavier by the minute. I tightened my hold around him, smiling lightly. If only he were more like this when awake, and not just while sleeping. It would never happen, I knew... Nevertheless, it was always nice to dream... wasn't it?