You make me sick.

Feliks giggled like a child, half lidded eyes gazing into his partner's matching green as he danced like a goddamn slut. Toris appeared embarrassed, among many things, but the blond ignored his body language, wrapping his arms around his neck in order to steal a kiss from the other man.

So sick.

Yes, while everyone else danced with their significant others, Gilbert was sitting in the corner, comfortably close to the beer. Like the last party. And the one before. Not like he needed to dance like a freak, anyway. It was much more fun to just get drunk and go molest people later, namely a certain Austrian.

"F-F-Feliks, oh God," Gilbert heard Toris stutter, and drew his attention back to the nations he had been watching. "But Lieeeeeeeet," the Pole whined, fumbling with the buttons on the taller man's shirt with all too eager anticipation. It was rather odd, considering he was acting like a child in order to get something that was very much not innocent.

"You've had too much to drink." Toris said firmly, grabbing a hold of Feliks' wrists and prying his hands from his shirt. "I have not!" Squeaked the other in protest, falling against the Lithuanian's body.

The two argued for a moment more, and Gilbert quickly lost interest, pouring more awesomely golden beer for himself. They weren't going to last. Lithuania got more and more irritated with Poland, and Poland became more and more clingy, thus making a cycle that would make Lithuania leave.

The albino relished the thought, actually, in a way only a really lonely person could.

"Like, what the hell are you doing?"

Looking up from his drink, Gilbert's eyes landed on one of the two nations from before, hand on hips and an irritated, albeit drunken, look on his face. His skirt was slightly too small.

"Like, none of your business," he mimicked, sticking his tongue out at the Slav. He felt pretty awesome for saying that, a truly witty comment. Feliks set his jaw, glaring at him. Actually, it was more like he was actually glaring at his beer.

.. Oh fuc–

The following appeared almost in slow motion, it was so horrible to watch. With a swipe of his hand, the shorter man had smacked the red plastic cup right out of his hand, spilling glorious, awesome beer to the floor. It splashed, mixing in with discarded snacks and some Canadian man's feet.

"Bitch needs to like, respect my authoritah," Feliks smirked, flipping a lock of blond hair behind his shoulder as he turned heel and skipped away.

You make me so sick, just your very face makes me want to through things. I hate every last detail of you. Especially your stupid voice. You invade my mind on a daily basis, filling me with thoughts of you when I should be sleeping. You make my heart hurt I hate you so much, and it's all your fault.