Warning: OOCness. So much of it. Depressing Prussia, especially. Even I wouldn't read about a depressed Prussia. Prussia's too awesome for that...Also, you're warned for newbieness o3o First Hetalia story.

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Axis Powers Hetalia is not mine. Nothing's mine. ima hobo.

Gilbert was watching. He was watching her talk. Smile. Laugh. And it was all he could do from his booth in the café.

Because they had broken up three months prior.

His hand was loosely cradling a milkshake—courtesy of his date who was left forgotten. His thumb was lazily rubbing at the condensed water forming on it. No more than five minutes ago, he was smiling and enjoying his date. "Kesesese"s and cries of "Awesome!"s filled their booth only moments before. Gilbert even considered a second date with her, a beautiful girl.

But when that lush of brown hair brushed past their booth, Gilbert's eyes were drawn.

She had her hand entwined with what should have been his hand. Eyes twinkling and meeting what should have been his scarlet orbs. Speaking words that he should have been the one listening to.

But her hand was wrapped around those agile piano fingers. Her eyes were reflecting violet in her green pools. And there hadn't been words between them for three months.

So all he did was watch silently.

The two took the seats by the window. A waitress joined them moments after. As the couple waited for their order, they chatted. From his booth, Gilbert couldn't hear. But he could watch. Elbow propping up his head, he fixed his eyes on them with a neutral expression.

She played with her hair, stroking the wavy ends between her fingers. She looked at the tiles on the floor embarrassedly. But she was smiling. Her date cocked a small smile and made a comment. Immediately, she laughed. Her fingers traded clutching strands of brown to clenching her stomach in a fit of laughter.

When their orders arrived, a vanilla milkshake and a slice of black forest cake was placed between them. She sipped her milkshake with a blue straw, pausing sometimes to talk or laugh.

Immediately after finishing their orders, they had left. Of course, she didn't pay, but pouted when her date insisted on treating her. After, they walked through the doors linked by arm.

And like that, she was gone.

He watched it all. His eyes lingered on where they had last been.

"Would you like anything else, sir?"

Gilbert's eyes shot up to meet the waitress'.

"Ah…no, thank you," he muttered, through the forced player smile he was accustomed to giving pretty girls.

She looked at him before bouncing off to another booth.

Pity. Gilbert saw pity in the girl's eyes.

I don't need pity. He gritted his teeth.

Scarlet eyes stared back at him from the empty glass. Even his reflection knew: He was pitiful. Even he could not stand himself this way—the way he looked so un-awesome.

Downright pitiful.

From the glass, his eyes noted a paper on the table. A post-it.

"Don't call me."

Fist tightened, he crumpled the note. So his date left him. And he didn't even notice.

Pitiful. Pathetically downright pitiful.

What he hated most was Elizabeta was happy. But he was sitting there alone in the café: his date deserted him and he wasted an hour of his life watching his ex with someone else.

A/N:

It's short...I have more written, but this makes a decent one-shot too.

The End or TBC?

Let me know! Reviews would be adored.