A/N HEY ITS MY FIRST FIC SO DON'T BE TOO HARSH ON IT
DISCLAMER I DON'T OWN HETALIA OR ANY THING ELSE
A sudden creak resounded in the thick silence, and a lone, pale figure jumped at the sudden noise. Forget-me-not blue eyes widen in a pale white face, darting left and right looking for the cause of the sound. He knew he should have never listened to Alfred, but sadly he had, so there he was, all alone on Halloween in an old abandoned house. Alfred had wanted to explore it saying it was best to go in the middle of the night. Some how he had talked Matthew in to coming they had left from their house to make the long climb up to the old manor. Which had gotten the well-deserved nickname The Haunted Manor. Matthew was used to being left behind or forgotten but this was one of the many times he wished someone would remember him, having been separated from the others and they didn't even notice. He heard another creak from behind "Alfred is th-that you?" he asked, voice trembling "Come on guys, it's n-not funny!" Again he was met with silence he wondered if there was some one else in the manor, shaking his head at his own foolishness of coarse there wasn't any one else. Matthew then decided the best thing to do was find his way out of the old manor and head home. He started to walk, his torch illuminating the long corridor, which after exploration, he discovered was on the 3rd floor. The walls were covered in peeling forest green wallpaper, and hung with various paintings full of dull lifeless people and animals if paintings were alive these would be dead or dieing but of coarse paintings couldn't be alive. They were all covered in a thick coating of dust. Cobwebs were strung up between each like old party streamers someone had forgotten to take down after a party. The carpet was a worn blue that hinted of once being expressive and lush but that would have been years ago, now unidentified stains covered it marring the once beautiful rug.
Matthew shuddered; he felt a chill as though someone was watching him. Quickening his pace, he reached the winding stairs that would lead him down to the lower levels of the silent manor and, hopefully to an exit. He carefully placed a foot on the top step, testing its strength. When he was satisfied that the scratched and weathered wood would hold his weight, slowly he cautiously began his descent. Pausing for a second, Matthew could have sworn he heard the whisper of cloth over wood. His head snapped around searching the gloom, straining his eyes to find the source of the noise. Though he scanned the space left to right up and down, he could not find the source of the sound. Maybe Alfred had been right and there were actually ghosts haunting the manor. Frances had said that vampires lived there, and all Arthur said was that the house had a dark aura to it. Not an evil aura, just dark Matthew was confused by this but he thought it was just Arthur trying to scare him. Not wanting to find out if any of their suspicions were true, Matthew started to rush down the dilapidated stairs. His feet smacked against each step as he flew down the twisting staircase. Suddenly he felt the wood give way, he was falling. At that moment Matthew Williams knew he was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. As the wind rushed past him he closed his eyes and prayed it would be quick. But before he could, there was a flash of gold, then his eyes slid shut and all he saw was darkness. For a few seconds Matthew waited for impact but it never came. He then noticed the wind had stopped rushing past him and a comforting warmth surrounded him. Hesitantly cracking one eye open, he was met with the one sight he did not expect to see. The warm "thing" that had been keeping him from hitting the floor was actually a set of arms, that were attached to a man, but not just any man, the most beautiful man Matthew had ever seen. He was dressed in tight cobalt blue jeans, and a black wife beater, an iron cross shone from around his neck. Silver hair, blazing red eyes, and snowy white skin that appeared to glow, ghostly in the light cast from his torch. Matthew gasped in shock, struggling to get out of the man's tight grip, but to no avail, in fact the man tightened his hold around him.
" Try not to move," the man grunted. It wasn't a suggestion, but a command. Matthew stopped trying to twist out of the man's arms and looked down. Which was immediately a regret, he was looking at the floor, which he had expected, but what he didn't expect was it to be so far away. They were floating in mid air, twenty-five feet above the black and white checked marble floor of the ballroom. Turning his head back to the man, he saw something that he had over looked before. Golden wings sprouted from the man's back, lazily flapping, to keep the two suspended above the cold marble floor. Tearing his eyes away from the shining feathers, Matthew finally found what little voice he had and cleared his throat, a rather small and pathetic sound.
" I'm sorry," he whispered, red eyes flashed, in what was that? Anger? Confusion? "Th- thank you for saving me . . . " He paused, not sure what to say next. " I'm Matthew, Matthew Williams. May I ask what your name is?" For a second Matthew thought his rescuer wouldn't respond, but then a smile split the man's face, white teeth flashing in the gloom.
" So you've finally decided to ask little bird. My awesome self's awesome name is Gilbert Beilschmidt." Little bird? Matthew thought did I hear him right? The wide grin that was stretched across Gilberts face suddenly morphed into a frown. Matthew was scared that he had somehow upset the man.
" I'm sorry," he said again, " I didn't mean to cause you any trouble, really I didn't," To his surprise the silver head snarled
"Trouble? You think saving your life is something that is troublesome? Do you want to die?"
" No!" It came out as more of a squeak then a word.
" Then why would you ask something like that? If not for the awesomeness that is myself, your pretty body would be an ugly mess all over the floor right now! That would be REAL trouble!"
" M-most people who know me forget I'm there, and you probably wouldn't have noticed me unless I was doing something to trouble you. If it was any other p-person here when I fell, I would probably be dead now," Matthew smiled sadly, blinking away tears that had managed to form in his large blue eyes. Gilbert stared down at him, and Matthew blushed, thinking he had bored the man with his story, not knowing that it was not boredom, or anger in the man's eyes, but surprised amazement.
" Forget you? How can someone just forget a person?" Matthew just continued to blush, the dusty rose coloring spreading across his cheeks as he bowed his head in shame thinking the man was starting to regret saving his life. " That's not right. No one should be forgotten, especially not some one like you!" Gil practically yelled. " Don't worry though, I'll remember you!" Suddenly he blushed as he realized what he just said. Trying to cover his embarrassment Gil angled his wings downward slowly they started to glide towards the floor. Matthew squeaked in surprise at the sudden movement, clinging tightly to the front of Gilbert's shirt, he had forgotten they were still suspended in midair. As Gilbert's feet touched the floor, he loosened his grip on the shirt, but still grasped it lightly, unable to bring himself to let go of his savior. " Hey Birdie, sorry to trouble you, but can I put you down now? Even though you're pretty light, my arms are getting tired," he said with a smirk. Birdie? Matthew thought first little bird now Birdie. I've never had a nickname before do people just start calling someone by one?
"Oh, sorry," Matthew whispered having been lost in his thoughts.
"Hey, there's nothing to apologize for. I told you!" Gil gently set him down on his feet, catching him when he stumbled. "Careful," he chuckled, a warm low laugh that made Matthew's stomach tighten in a strange way. He then noticed he was still clinging to the front of Gils shirt; slowly he loosened his grip, releasing the now crumpled fabric. Both of them stared at the space, mute, until Gil broke the silence. " Why were you here in the first place? I don't generally get a lot of visitors here at this time of night. Hell, I don't get many visitors at all," Matthew's eyes widened in surprise,
" You live here? " He asked tentatively, " But I thought no one lived here for over 50 years! " Then the horrible thought struck him " Are you a ghost?" Matt said with a frightened gasp. Gil had to chuckle at the expression on his face, his sky blue eyes were wide and questioning, his pale skin flushed with fear, embarrassment, and awe, pink lips formed a wide 'O'. Blond hair cascading in soft golden waves to framing that lovely pale face, the exception was a strand which stuck up in a gravity defying curl. He looked absolutely adorable. Adorable? Gil thought feeling his heart flutter oddly, unsure of quite why the word affected him so much it was just a word right?
" No, I'm not a ghost," Matt sighed in audible relief. " But I do live here, if you could call it living" he smiled bitterly.