Not sure how many parts this will have. There will be a few more soon-ish. Not as fast updating as my other ones. Soz. But nightly can't work for me at the moment.
Why are you always so cold Gilbert?
Gilbert was on the phone to Elizabeta, leaning back in the chair holding his phone to his ear with his sholder. His study was still that dark red he had painted it decades ago. While his furniture was expensive there were dark marks were he had rested his feet over the year. It was an old house with creaky floorboards and thin windows. Many would have said cold, but Matthew was more than used to the cold. The house had warm running water but the older rooms like the study had no electricity. Tonight it was lit by an oil lamp. Other nights by candles. Matthew knew he should not listen in to these conversations in the dark but Gilbert never seemed to open up. He even lied in his diaries. But that was no surprise, Gilbert even managed to lie to himself. This worried Matthew. It was no normal. Not that they knew much about normal.
Gilbert is dead. Technically. Not that that stopped him. Everyone sort of knew his land was gone. No longer tied to a state he was not one of them anymore. He was somehow kept going. There was a general consensus among the younger ones that he was the east. Kept alive by his brother's pity or a misguided loyalty. Those who had know Gilbert in his youth would never talk to Matthew about those sort of things. Anyone who knew anything about Gilberts 'situation' thought that Matthew should not have anything to do with his friend. They thought that Matthew was just a kid who did not know anything about they way the world worked. If not they did not really know who he was. Francis' kid. Matthew had lived in Francis', Arthur's and not Alfred's shadow. He liked his trips to Berlin because of this. Ludwig liked him as he viewed him as a positive influence. Ludwig would not tell the Canadian anything at all. He just looked awkward or so sad Matthew never talked about the subject again. He considered asking Feliciano though it would be unlikely that the Italian knew anything.
Matthew would listen to the calls that his friend had with Elizabeta and Roderick. These calls let Matthew understand a little about the others feelings. It was these calls that first made him wonder if their friendship meant anything to the Berliner. That's what Gilbert called himself. Not a German. Not a Prussian. If he was ever asked about where he was from he would say Berlin. He even said it in the time of soviet occupation, apparently. Gilbert never talked about those days. Matthew knew he would have been with Ivan at the time. While Matthew had always been on good terms with Ivan (much to Alfred's disgust) but he knew that there was a side to the Russian that Matthew knew got to see. By Toris' account, he did not want to. There was nothing that could be done. Just needed some democracy according to Alfred. But Ivan had been broken inside so he sometimes broke others on the outside.
All Matthew needed to do was listen, these days. He was safe up in his mountains. Protected by the piece that had descended to his part of the world all he needed to do was listen. One of his 'dads' was a skilled spy but Matthew was invisible. It just happened. One moment he was there but the next thing he knew was that the floor was visible through his hands.
You could never see through Gilbert's hands. He always wore gloves. Without exception. Matthew once asked his other 'papa' why he did that but all he got in reply was a lude comment about how leather could feel on the skin. Nothing useful. Not that the gloves did not feel nice upon his skin when the touched. The furthest they had ever gone was a light grope of the arse.
He could hear Gilbert talking, now. It was German but Matthew had spent enough time with the other to know what was going on. Thank goodness they where not conversing in Hungarian.
"Oh hey Liz. Yeah! I promised I would call. The awesome me would never stand you up even on the phone...So I did do it that one time...Whatever." He spoke slowly. Easy to understand. Almost sleepily. "No. He's asleep." That must mean Matthew. The conversation continued with Gilbert going on about his brother and asking about how things were going on about 'Roddykins'.
An hour passed. Then another. The room had gone silent.
Things had been awkward between them for a while. Matthew wondered if it was because Gil was homophobic. That could not be right. Considering. Gilbert's best friends and Brother made that impossible.
Matthew crept into the study. The floorboards groaned beneath his feet. Matthew wanted to touch his friend for a while. An inexplicable urge to reach out to the other.
Gilbert's skin was inexplicably cold. Not cold. Room temperature. No warmth on his shoulder. Should he put a blanket. No. That would prove he had been there. Matthew bolted. He was scared about what that meant.