This is a reflection of what happens to me when I get depressed. Except I don't have a Gilbert to try to cheer me up. My family just doesn't understand it well enough. I wrote this almost a month ago, and just felt like posting something. For those who have me on alert, I am currently working on the next chapter of Une Nouvelle Famille. If I'm lucky I'll get it up tomorrow or the day after.
Matthew hated when this happened to him. That is, he hated it internally. Externally, he was emotionless, going about his ordinary business with nary a smile nor a frown, accompanied by an uncharacteristic lethargy. Eventually, his silence drew the gaze of his lover. The man sitting on the couch frowned in concern, before he pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the doorway of the kitchen.
"…Birdie? You okay?" Matthew didn't answer. He slid the pancakes he was making onto a plate. Gilbert walked over and put his hands on the blond's shoulders, turning him to face him. "Matt? Are you alright?" He glanced into his lover's eyes briefly before looking away and pulling out of his grip. He stared at his freshly made pancakes, then he put them in the fridge with a sigh. He shrugged in a delayed answer to Gilbert's question and straightened up. Gilbert came up behind him, his hands rubbing gently on his back. "You depressed again?" he asked softly. Matthew nodded his head. Gilbert hugged him gently. Matthew turned and rested his chin on the other man's shoulder, closing his eyes as he hugged him back. Gilbert kissed Matthew's hair and slipped his hands into the back of his lover's pants. Matthew stiffened in his arms. He pulled back and reached for his hockey stick. Gilbert moved his hands to safe territory at the warning. He knew from experience that the one emotion Matthew had no problem showing during his depression was anger. And his favorite weapon was a hockey stick. Matthew put his arms back around Gilbert but turned his head to stare at the dishes he had dirtied to make his pancakes. Gilbert knew what he was doing.
"Go sit on the couch, Birdie. I'll take care of them." Matthew nodded his thanks and went to sit on the couch in the living room, idly picking up the remote and flipping through the channels. Gilbert washed the dishes, then dried them and put them away. He watched Matthew from the kitchen doorway for a minute, before he gathered a few things in his arms.
Matthew didn't move when Gilbert plopped down on the couch next to him, but then something very cold was set on his lap. He looked down and saw a tub of vanilla ice cream. Gilbert held out a spoon and a bottle of maple syrup.
"Figured you needed it," Gilbert said, one side of his mouth pulling up in a half-smile. Matthew's lips twitched slightly as he took the lid off the tub and poured the maple syrup all over the ice cream. He dug in, Gilbert following a second later with his own spoon. They stared at the TV screen while they ate their ice cream. Matthew set his spoon and the ice cream aside after a while and poured the maple syrup straight into his mouth. Some of it spilled down his chin, and Gilbert leaned in to lick it away. He allowed his lips to linger on Matthew's warm skin for a few moments before he took the melting ice cream back to the kitchen. When Gilbert came back and sat on the couch, Matthew laid down and put his head on Gilbert's lap. The albino looked down at him in surprise, then he smiled. He eased Matthew's glasses off and set them on the table, then he ran his fingers through his wavy blond hair. Matthew closed his eyes.
"I love you, Matt," Gilbert whispered softly.